Page 35 of The Devil’s Feather

He blinked. “Of course.”

“And no yelling. Never again. My dad is a Southern Baptist preacher. When I had meltdowns, he used to scream at me about being possessed by the devil and slap me in the face until I got ready for church. I will not live through that again. It is not acceptable.”

Rafael’s eyes lit with fury, voice falling into a growl. “I will fucking kill your father.”

“You will not. I have handled him myself, and you will respect my boundaries. Do not yell at me again.”

He hung his head. “I am sorry.”

I patted his hand. “It’s ok. I’m telling you this for future reference. We need to be able to work through disagreements and high emotion without creating more trauma for either of us.”

He nodded slowly. “My voice carries such that even a small increase in volume can get intense, and I have enough operatic training to give it real force. I will do my best to control myself.”

“You sing opera too? God, I need to hear that.”

An indulgent smile lit his face. “You already have. Not many oktavist background vocalists around, so I record my own.” At my questioning look, he clarified, “I can sing an octave lower than the bass staff; deeper than a typical basso profondo.”

“Is that your natural range or from your training?”

Rafael waved an airy hand. “You may have noticed I am tall.”

I threw a pillow at him.

He batted it away with a chuckle. “I meant I have longer vocal cords and a larger larynx than most people. It is a combo of nature and training. My voice is shit right now though, so you will have to wait for proof.”

“Well damn. Who needs a vibrator when I can just have you hit a low note?”

With a wicked glimmer in his eyes, he leaned forward and dropped his voice. “Challenge accepted.”

Bemused, I shook my head. “The voice cracks in puberty must have been wild.”

Rafael’s expression turned to stone. “Puberty was absolute fucking hell. Trying to stay clothed when I was broke as fuck was a never-ending challenge. I learned to hand sew under duress. Shoes were harder, especially in winter.”

I’d never even considered that.

“Oh, it gets worse.” His mouth twisted. “My legs and back hurt so much some days I could not walk. I grew so fast my left lung collapsed. Nearly died when the right one did the same. It took a long time to strengthen them after that.”

Horrified, I hugged my arms. “God, that can happen?”

He relaxed and tapped the tip of his nose. “You should have seen this before I grew into it. Shoulders too.” What a mental image. “Now, continue your story.”

The hamster wheel in my brain spun as I searched for my previous point. “I’m mostly no contact with my parents. I don’t expect you to meet them, and I’m an only child so you’re off the hook with siblings. But I want you to at least try to get along with my friends. They’re all the family I’ve got.”

He groaned. “Deandra, yes, but I have no desire to speak to Annie again.”

“That’s fair. Annie is still unlearning a lot of stuff that most of us got to a while ago, but that doesn’t mean you have to be there for it. I have other friends, too. Not a ton of them, and not all of them live here, but I want you to actually be a part of my life, not just some weird recluse I hide away with and fuck.”

Rafael took my empty coffee cup and saucer with a feline smile. “A recluse fuck-hideaway does not sound so bad.”

1 “Provider” – Sleep Token

10

DUNGEON CRAWLING

Rafael’s shower was easily big enough to fit multiple people, even at his size. Much to my disappointment, he requested privacy.

“I will get there, but this is the part I must take slowly.”