Chapter 22
Given how I’m still thinking about Abaddon’s unintentional kinkiness, I make the mistake of not sticking nearly as close to his side as I should.
The crowd gives him a decent berth, but with more than a few feet between us, a locust slides between the gap.
One turns into two, three, a dozen—a whole line of them, enveloping me in the crowd in mere moments.
Panic seeps into me.
My arm grazes against someone’s metal plates, cold and full of tiny ridges, and my stomach turns sour.
I mumble an apology, though I don’t even know which locust I bumped into.
They hurry around like little fucking ants, indistinguishable from each other.
And I’m lost, so lost amongst these foreign beings—
A warm hand snakes around my waist, and a wing stretches out over my back, casting me in shadows. “I thought I told you to stay close?”
Abaddon’s low voice stills my heart.
“You didn’t, actually.” I grit my teeth, fixing my eyes ahead. He stays touching me, holding me, for far too long. Goddammit—I might even like it, too. I feel safe, protected, yet totally out of my wits. It’s both terrifying and comforting.
I hold my breath as long as I can, which isn’t very long. It eventually shudders out of me, easily loud enough for him to hear.
Immediately, he lets go of me.
“Stay close,” he commands, his voice slightly less confident.
“Yep. Got it.” My hands flex into fists, relax, and flex again. I don’t know what to do with myself. “Lead the way, Your Highness.”
So we walk, not too close, together but not too far apart.
Abaddon doesn’t directly point out different booths of interest, but he does slow his pace in a way that gives me a chance to decide to browse or not.
I think about buying another journal, but I still have plenty of room in my current one.
I have more than enough clothes. And there isn’t a single book for sale…
I’m really in need of nothing; I’d only be buying something frivolous because he wants me to.
At least, I think he does, but I can’t get a good read on him.
Why is he being so generous? Is he lonely, bored? Does he pity me? Is he trying to impress me? I don’t know.
I don’t know!
So many smells of spices and God-knows-what float into the air from the various vendors. And the crowd keeps getting more packed, the walkways narrowing, collapsing the precious personal space I so desperately try to hold between the angel and me.
“You look unwell,” Abaddon states, slowing to a stop.
I drag my eyes from the crowd, getting caught in his intense, unblinking focus as he waits for my answer to his not-question-question. I decide to offer him the truth.
“I’m a bit overwhelmed.”
He acts instantly, leading me off the main path to the nearest shop, opening the door for me. “We’ll stop here for a moment.”
A bell chimes as I walk, somewhat hesitantly, into the… apothecary? I can’t tell if I’m looking at spices for cooking or traditional medicine. All sorts of natural materials line the shelves, fill baskets on the floor, and hang from the ceiling.
Whatever it is, business is booming. There’s a line at the counter, where the shopkeeper is so busy furiously processing sales that she doesn’t even notice her special guest. She’s even more elaborately decorated than the last vendor.
Her crown is painted in a rainbow of luminescent shades, topped with jewels like pretty little berries on a thornbush.
I look back to Abaddon—or, where I left him.
So much for sticking close to me; the damn angel is beelining for the back of the store.
I just barely catch the tips of his wings, heading down an aisle, and I hurry to catch up.
When I make it to him, he’s reaching for a fruit the size of a grape and the color of fire opal.
“This is called Vitas,” he says casually, as if he didn’t just leave me in the middle of the store. “It’s a fruit painstakingly grown deep within the blackwater caverns. Quite the delicacy here—popular in our trading networks, too. It has mild calming properties. Would you like one?”
That actually sounds great right about now. How considerate of him. “Sure. You’re not going to steal it again, are you?”
“No. Why would you think I’d steal from my people? Are you referencing the necklace?” He looks up at me, seeming confused. “It would have been rude for me to insist on paying for what was clearly a gift.”
I was making a joke, but if he’s going to harp on rudeness… “Well, I could name quite a few rude things you’ve said and done to me, but it seems like you only care about your own culture’s customs.”
He frowns, but doesn’t respond.
I might have actually stumped him, and it turns out that Abaddon being lost for words is ridiculously amusing. His grumpy face is much more fun than confusing him with my jokes.
Holding his gaze, I cross my arms, shift my weight to one side, and lift an eyebrow. “Well? Would you like me to go down the list, or should we skip to scheduling some dedicated etiquette lessons?”
His chest rises and falls in a stifled sigh, losing air from his nose in a long drag. “I will ensure the vendor takes an appropriate amount of tokens for the fruit on our way out.”
I barely resist the urge to groan in frustration.
His seriousness is incessant. I swear, he hasn’t had a day of fun in his entire life.
He probably doesn’t even know what his own laugh sounds like!
I wonder if I could tickle him to force the noise out, just for science.
He’d probably think I’m torturing him, maybe even curse my entire bloodline with his creepy blood magic, but it might be worth the risk…
“Are you ready to go?”
“Yes, yes, you big stick in the mud. I’m right behind you.”
As promised, he sneaks up to the shopkeeper and slips a gold coin onto the counter—then ignores the locust’s fervent chattering as he floats out of the store. Or storms out. I can’t really tell.
The crowd is just as packed as before, causing me to pause at the doorstep.
Abaddon grabs my wrist and proceeds to all but drag me along. I’d be shocked, but I’m too busy practically running to keep up with him. Twisting and turning around corners and alleys like there’s no tomorrow.
“Why the fuck are we walking so fast?”
“One more turn.”
“Until what?”
“Patience.”
I roll my eyes, but bite back my retort.
My answer comes within moments when Abaddon pops open an inconspicuous side door. It leads down a set of stairs, off the market’s wooden platform, which I suspect marks its boundary.
I didn’t realize the market walls had turned into a chain-link gate at some point. And, strangely, I don’t remember the platform being so high, either.
Down the flight of stairs, we land in a quaint, quiet neighborhood. A few locusts are off in the distance, going about their casual lives. Some children kick around a ball, while an adult is tending to the side of a house.
Conveniently enough, nobody seems to notice us.
Abaddon steps in front of my line of sight, wordlessly offering me the small, rainbow-colored fruit in his palm.
I’d already forgotten about the thing in our haste to exit the market, which, I suppose, could have been for my own benefit. I can’t even remember what he called it.
“Mild calming effects, you said?” I take the opal grape from his hand, inspecting it.
“Yes.”
That doesn’t sound much different from alcohol or marijuana, and my nerves could definitely use the softening… Abyss weed. Sure. Why not?
Without another word, I take the fruit and pop it into my mouth. It’s fleshy, yet sweet. It tastes like vanilla, butter, egg whites... cake. It tastes just like cake. Except the texture is very off.
“Can’t say I’m a fan—” Warmth quickly spreads from my stomach outward, enveloping my whole body with mild euphoria. I’ve never felt something quite like it before. “You know what? I take it back. This is nice.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Abaddon hums, his lips growing into a… what the fuck?
I stare at him, bewildered. “Am I imagining things, or are you actually smiling right now?”
“You’re not imagining it.”
“Why?”
“Why am I smiling?” He lets out a little huff, almost sounding like a laugh, but that is entirely impossible. “Because you are at peace for once.”
I blink, still staring at his stunning smile.
It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. God, everything is beautiful. The lights, colors, sounds. Gone is the grating on my senses from every direction. What was once cacophony has melted into euphony.
“Kae,” he says slowly, and I bask in the sound of my name on his tongue. What lovely music. “How are you feeling?”
“Hmm?” My words seem to drift off like wisps of smoke. I can see the sound so distinctly, I swear I could pluck the lingering echoes out of the air. “I’m great.”
Are they growing little pieces of Heaven here? Wow. I can see how this would be profitable. I’d buy all the little bits o’ heaven beans. I need to invest in this business.
I’m vaguely aware of my legs swaying beneath me, threatening to crumble—
Abaddon has his arm around my waist in an instant, steadying me.
Ohhh, fuck yes.
My eyelids flutter closed, all my muscles clenching. His hand feels so, so good against me. I bet it’d be even better if I didn’t have a shirt on. Him, too. Why were clothes even invented? They’re so stupid. Dumb, dumb, dumb. Big dumb.
“I don’t see why you need… all of that…” I wave a limp hand vaguely towards his torso, the right words evading me. “You know. The big dumb metal.”
His smile is completely gone now, replaced by a concerned little frown.
“I didn’t realize Vitas would have such a strong effect on humans,” he mumbles. “This is my fault. I miscalculated.”
“Non… sense,” My words are slow and heavy. They won’t seem to listen to my mind, as much as I want to reassure him. “I’m gooood. I’d take it… every day…”
Abaddon slides his hand across my back—fucking hell fuck—and grabs me by the shoulders, turning me directly toward him.