69. Violette
VIOLETTE
The moment Levi opens the passenger door of his truck for me, a familiar scent hits me.
“It smells like blood in here.” Willing my wings, horns, and tail away, I climb in the front middle seat of Levi’s truck.
Azrael sticks his head in on the passenger’s side, nostrils flaring. “Oh, hm. Venison, yes.”
Levi tosses his duffel bag onto the backseat beside Azrael’s shadowy, incorporeal form. “And?”
He punctuates the question by slamming the rear passenger door shut. He and Azrael slide into the front seats on either side of me. Their rock-hard, muscled thighs press my own together as their masculine scents instantly fill the cabin of the truck and pervade my nostrils.
It takes conscious effort to not allow my eyes to roll into the back of my head. This restraint does not extend to my nethers or my mind, apparently. My core clenches and my imagination takes flight once more.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Hellish fuck.
Why is my throat dry again?
“And nothing. Let’s fucking go.”
Levi twists in his seat to look down at me, narrowing his eyes at me.
“You alright there, princess?”
Not even remotely.
“Yep.”
Azrael angles his enormous body to look down at me before glancing at Levi.
“Would you prefer I sit in the back? I am prone to motion sickness, so I can’t promise?—”
“Nope. You’re fine.”
How did I ever think this was a good idea?
Levi returns his attention to his truck, engine humming to life.
“Speak now or forever hold your peace.”
I remain dutifully silent.
The electric whir of Azrael’s passenger window slowly opening is a violent assault upon our silence.
Akash, help me.
Despite my anxieties, it doesn’t take long before the gentle purr of Levi’s truck engine lulls me to sleep.
A change in velocity gently stirs me from sleep.
Levi’s arm is draped around me, half perched on the seat behind me.
My head has lolled onto his chest. He’s leaned back in his seat with one hand on the wheel.
Azrael is also sound asleep beside me. Arms folded against his broad chest, head and shoulder resting on the door.
There’s a subtle tension in his brow and a slight frown tilting his lips.
As if he’s in the middle of a rather disappointing dream.
He holds a certain vulnerable air in his sleep state.
No masks or charisma... just this faint lingering sadness that’s palpable, even in his slumber.
A large, luminous sign comes into view, depicting a bizarre illustration of some strange buck-toothed creature wearing a red hat.
The smile on its face is comically wide.
Offensive, really.
No one can possibly be that happy, much less such an unfortunate-looking creature in urgent need of orthodontic intervention.
“Where are we?”
Levi glances down at me as he turns into the buck-toothed creature’s market. “A place called Virginia. Gotta get gas. You hungry?”
Azrael straightens, fingers grazing his neck as Levi’s truck drives over some bump in the road. It looks much improved, though still boasting tender pink flesh.
My too-dry tongue passes over my lips. “No, but I am parched.”
A corner of Levi’s mouth quirks at one corner. “We can take care of that.” His gaze slides to Azrael. “How about you, Lord of Darkness?”
Azrael huffs a laugh. “I need to relieve myself. And I wouldn’t mind some sustenance.”
The 360-degree glued-together gash around his throat demands attention.
“We need to cover that up.”
Azrael raises a hand, fingers whispering over the wound.
“Glamour it for me, will you, darling?”
I can feel the subtle tension in Levi’s body rise at the endearment, but he says nothing. With a bit of energy, I will a glamour over his throat.
He offers me a tired smile. “Thank you.”
“Shall I remove your earrings? Seeing as how their purpose is rather moot.”
Levi glances at Azrael. “That’s probably a good idea. The less attention we attract, the better, and you’d more than likely be the only guy in there wearing women’s earrings.”
Azrael frowns as I reach up and begin removing them. “But you made them for me.”
Chuckling, my heart squeezes with affection. “You’re welcome to keep them, obviously. Although I can’t imagine it’s good for you, especially considering our current predicament.”
Placing the earrings in his hand, a forlorn gaze falls to them. “Palladium or not, I shall cherish them always.”
Clearly, this male has been deprived of presents.
And I now have a soul-deep urge to remedy that.
“How about I make you a new pair, with a more suitable metal, the moment I return home?”
Azrael’s lips twitch. “That sounds like a pleasant compromise.”
Levi’s truck comes to a stop alongside what I can only assume is where he will retrieve this gas. In Caerwynath, mortals have vehicles somewhat similar to those in Terrenea, but they run on water.
Shutting off the engine, Levi twists in his seat to look at Azrael and me, examining us. “This still isn’t gonna work.”
Confusion scrunches my face. “I beg your pardon?”
Levi sighs. “You two are gonna attract attention. Which is the last thing we need.”
Azrael nods, sagely. “Yes. I thought as much. We need, if I recall correctly, Wall Market.”
Context clues aren’t helping me. “Which is?”
Levi blinks between the two of us for a moment before scrubbing a hand down his face. On a mumbled curse, he opens the truck door.
“Just wait a minute.”
Levi climbs out of the truck and opens the rear passenger door to begin rifling through his duffel bag before climbing back into the front seat and passing us a pile of clothing.
“Can you magically put those on or something?”
With thumb and forefinger, I lift a garment from the top of the pile. It is a threadbare bit of cloth peppered with a few holes, stains, and two short sleeves.
“What is this? A vintage nut rag?”
Levi snatches it from my pinched fingers and tosses it at Azrael.
“It’s just an old shirt, fancy-pants. I was gonna sleep in it, but now I guess it’s Azrael’s.” He grabs a slightly less threadbare shirt from the pile and unfolds it for me. It’s black, plain cotton.
I slide my gaze to his. “And what, may I ask, is so wrong with my current ensemble?”
Levi’s mouth hints at a smile. “Nothing is wrong with your ensemble.”
He leans forward and presses a kiss to my forehead before sitting back and passing his eyes over my silk trousers, low-cut blouse with a feathered neckline and cuffs, emerald necklace, and velvet slippers.
“It’s just that this is a gas station in the middle of nowhere, and you look like you’re ready to attend the Met Gala. You need to look casual. They’ve got security cameras everywhere. We need to be indistinguishable from the general public.”
A scoff escapes me. “Says the man with tattoos on his face. These are my pajamas, mortal. I dressed for the occassion—being stuck in a vehicle for hours on end and prepared to slumber when possible. I’m not sure how much more casual I can get.”
Levi gives an encouraging squeeze to my thigh. “I’m gonna need you to trust me on this, princess.”
As if the universe was determined to prove his point, the passenger door of the truck parked beside us swings open on a screech to announce a male dressed in a pair of denim trousers that appear to have had their pant legs torn straight off.
By what beast, I cannot fathom.
The male’s hair is a wild red color. The cut of which makes it abundantly clear that his barber must harbor a personal vendetta against him.
The flesh of a rather formidable-looking paunch hangs from beneath his t-shirt, which, like his trousers, has also been relieved of its sleeves.
His shoes are in a similarly violated state.
The man in question releases an odious belch, punctuated by another scream of his truck’s door hinges before it slams shut.
He then proceeds to waddle towards the market with a lumbering gait so wide it would suggest that the testicles dangling between his legs are too tender to permit his thighs to graze them.
“Akash in Heaven... What travesty has befallen that poor man?”
Levi’s resonant chuckle is a warm sound that I can feel in my soul. “Life?”
Azrael gives a foreboding laugh as he unbuttons the front of his shirt. “Not for much longer.”