Chapter 10 Orion #2
“After I became proficient, I was told to find a new career and not to discuss my training. I went to culinary school, but Michael didn’t think that provided good cover for when he needed me to use my knowledge.
So I became a private detective and did my best to never come to his attention.
Amazingly, he never called on me until this assignment. ”
I nodded, unsurprised by how his life had been scripted for him. As a soldier, they didn’t care what we did, so long as we stayed in fighting shape. I never received an assignment, but I suspected most of my travels with Ares originated from Michael.
Zeke watched me carefully. It was his turn, but he was giving me an out.
“Go ahead, it’s your turn,” I said.
Zeke held my gaze for a beat, searching my face, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the road long enough for him to find what he wanted. “Do you have any hobbies or interests other than fighting, martial arts, training?”
I blinked, surprised by the unexpected direction of his question. I should’ve seen this coming. I’d been a coward and not asked what I really wanted to know.
“No,” I said, trying to hide my embarrassment at being so one-dimensional.
“You have to remember it was a different time when I was born in 1105. Life was more survival focused. Not for angels but in general. Most of those with artistic talent joined the church, either as a brother, priest, or as a sponsored artist. Again, not angels, but it was harder to blend in if you were an artist or sculptor and weren’t attached to the church.
“Once your father saw my fighting skills, my path was set.”
“Dad has a lot of hobbies. He paints, plays six instruments, can fix cars, hell, he can even knit.”
“You’re lying.”
Zeke laughed and crossed his heart. “I swear. He and Mom sit on the couch and knit while they talk. Come visit me in Virginia and I’ll show you a few of the blankets they’ve made for me.”
There was too much to unpack. Ares knitting was a crazy idea, but it explained the blankets and sweaters from “Ruth and Ares” I got over the years. What really set me back was his invitation to visit him.
“Does learning to play violin about five hundred years ago count?”
“Do you still play?”
Such a simple question and it dredged up bad memories. “I haven’t in . . . not anymore. I would like to take it up again and maybe learn to draw.”
“You should do both.” Zeke’s eyes danced with interest. “And anything else that piques your curiosity.”
A flush crept up the back of my neck at the half-compliment, half-flirtation in his tone.
I also liked the idea, unexpected though it was.
Having an outlet separate from combat and celestial politics did hold some appeal, especially if it helped quiet the storm of emotions that had been revived within me lately.
“Maybe I will.”
“Better than a no,” Zeke said with a silly grin. “Your turn.”
My pulse kicked up a notch as I considered what to ask.
I wanted to go deeper and start to strip away the protective layers we’d built around ourselves.
It meant revealing those vulnerable places inside I was terrified to share.
If I found the courage to go there, I’d also learn more about Zeke.
A prospect that thrilled me more than I’d admitted before that moment.
Drawing in a steadying breath, I met his gaze. “Have you ever been in love before? Truly, deeply in love?”
I had to keep my attention on the road, but before I turned my head, I saw Zeke swallow. I did what he wanted, and he had to pay the price of his desire.
“Once,” he said slowly. “I think.”
He snorted, and I let him take his time before finishing his answer. Or if that was all he was going to say, to ask his question.
“His name was Joaquin. We met in Milan back in 1899. I was twenty-two and he four hundred and sixty-eight. He worked for Michael and I’d just arrived to study Drevlin technology.
I assumed because I thought about him all the time, I was in love.
He was sweet, affectionate, a great lover who taught me so much. ”
The ache of loss resonated clearly in Zeke’s voice and expression. He’d been in love, even if he wasn’t sure. “What happened?” I asked gently.
A rueful smile played across Zeke’s lips. “What always happens, I suppose. After ten years, someone new caught his eye. He said I was too busy with my responsibilities or gone too often. I thought because we had forever, a few weeks here or there wouldn’t matter. I was wrong.
“One day, right before I had to go to Tibet to meet with one of the Drevlin experts, we woke up and he told me he needed to move on. For years I chided myself for not fighting harder, but after time I realized he wasn’t the one for me.
I was the son of Ares to him, not Ezekiel.
I see that now, but at the time I was heartbroken. ”
“I’m sorry you went through that,” I murmured. Without thinking I put my hand over his. “Losing someone important to you leaves scars. It doesn’t matter if in hindsight you never had what you thought you did at the time.”
Zeke put his hand over mine. “You don’t have to answer this, but if you want to tell me, I’d like to know more about you and Lael.”
I didn’t need him to show me more compassion to know he had a kind heart. He was right that I didn’t want to share this pain. I wasn’t ready, but I probably never would be.
A lump formed in my throat as I marshaled my emotions to respond. Dredging up memories of my lost love was still remarkably painful all these years later.
“Lael was one of the most vibrant, passionate people I’d met.
His father was Lucien, who’d helped fight the Drevlin before we came to Earth.
We met in Italy after the fall of Constantinople.
Michael was preparing to defend Europe from the Ottomans.
Ares and Gabriel were gathering fighters and Lael was there with his father.
From the moment we met, he was the sun my world revolved around. ”
I smiled wistfully as I recalled those heady, joyous early days of our romance.
“We were inseparable for centuries. He had this fire inside that I was drawn to like a moth to a flame. We’d travel the world, settling in major cities for a decade or two, then find a new place to call home.
During those years, we’d fought in every major war, sometimes on the winning side, other times we lost. Rarely did we have a vested interest in who won.
Certainly, we wanted our side to win, but there were very few wars that would affect angels.
Whenever those happened, Gabriel called a muster and we’d fight for the side most aligned with our interests.
“One of those conflicts was World War I. Lael and I led a small group of soldiers at Marne that almost single-handedly held back the German army. We thought we were invincible, and for years we were. In August 1918, we were at Amiens. It was the start of the end of the war.
“Lael was horrifically injured, his entire body ravaged by an explosion near his position. If he hadn’t been an angel, he’d have died instantly.
As it was, he almost died three times before we could stabilize him.
His recovery took almost a year, but we’d both been injured before, so I assumed we’d go back to our old life once he was better. It didn’t work out that way.
“The doctors had healed his body, but his mind was haunted by rage and demons I couldn’t comprehend. The Lael I knew and loved disappeared, replaced by this caustic, mocking shadow.”
My hands clenched against the steering wheel as the memories washed over me.
“I tried; we all did. Your Dad, Lucien, Gabriel. The best doctors were brought in to try to bring back the person he’d been before the injury.
Nothing worked. I clung to the belief that if I loved him enough, he would come back to me. ”
I shook my head slowly, swallowing hard. “It was like he was disgusted by the way I still loved him. After four decades of that torment, he finally left. I found a brief note telling me not to look for him, that we were through. It broke me in half.”
Lapsing into silence, I fought against the sting of tears in my eyes. Zeke reached over and squeezed my shoulder firmly.
“I can’t begin to imagine what it was like to watch this happen to the person you loved most and be powerless to help.” His thumb rubbed a small, soothing circle against the fabric of my shirt. “I’m in awe of your resilience, Orion.”
My breath hitched at the intimate gesture and the sincere compassion in Zeke’s voice. Perhaps sensing he was cracking the armor around my heart, he squeezed my shoulder once more before withdrawing his hand.
“Thank you for trusting me with that,” he murmured. “I know it wasn’t easy.”
I turned to look at him directly, feeling naked and vulnerable in a way I hadn’t allowed myself for decades. “Thank you for caring enough to give me someone I can trust again.”
Zeke held my gaze, his eyes swirling with so many unvoiced thoughts and emotions. My heart thundered, waiting with bated breath to see if he would open that door for me or not.
Just then, a soft ping sounded from the dashboard, drawing our attention. The moment shattered as we snapped back into mission mode, the weights of duty dropping squarely back onto our shoulders.
“Looks like we’re here,” I said gruffly, putting the car in park. I drew a steadying breath, firmly boxing up the whirlwind of feelings the last few minutes had unleashed.
There would be time to unpack and dissect it all later. For now, we had a job to do—and I needed to be focused with a clear head. Sliding my game face back into place, I cast one final indecipherable look at Zeke before pushing open the door. “Let’s go.”