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Arden waved a hand. “You don’t need to sir me. I’m just a guy,” he said as he glanced around the building again. When his eyes landed on the stranger, he frowned. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Jaygen,” the man said, holding out a hand. “My name is Jaygen. You?”
“Arden.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Arden,” he said with a nod. “If you’d like, I’m familiar with this city and could get you in contact with designers, carpenters-”
“The carpentry I can do myself,” Arden cut in. “But designing I know nothing about.”
“Okay, then I’ll let that be my first assignment. There’s also the matter of hosts, security guards, servers, and bartenders. I know this area well and the people in it. Maybe I could help you get the place staffed.”
Arden grunted. “Now, that I might need. My social skills are…rusty. At best.”
“Then I’ll be happy to take over that area and let you focus on other things. Of course, you will have the final say.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Should I get started?”
Arden nodded. “Yes and get in contact with all the companies I need to turn on electricity, gas, water, internet. I’m going to go upstairs and inspect the living quarters.” He paused. “This goes without saying, but I’m going to do any checking I have to do to make sure you’re not full of shit. Oh and if you do anything while I’m upstairs…”
“I’m guessing there’s some non-specific threat surrounding you and kicking my ass?” He looked Arden up and down. “No, thanks. Whatever you are, I can feel power coming off of you. I have no desire to get into a fight with you. Ever.” He scratched at a sheet of brown paper stuck to the inside of the window and sunlight flooded in. “I’ll get started down here.”
“Alright.”
When Arden turned on his heels, he smiled to himself. He didn’t even know the man, but every word out of Jaygen’s mouth didn’t sound like anything less than truth. As Arden climbed the stairs and inspected the floors above he saw it all; living quarters with a huge shared kitchen and each room protected with a password instead of keys, a floor of his own where he would have an office and a bedroom.
It was the perfect space.
Arden pushed open a dusty set of curtains and peered out of the window. The city was alive with movement, supernaturals going about their days laughing and chatting. All while he stood there in the shadows.
It was where he needed to be. Arden was a killer and this was going to be his own little prison cell until the day he died.
"You've been therefor months, give me something," the dark voice over the line ground out.
Micha began to chew on his bottom lip; he had nothing. He'd dreaded check-up day, knowing that the man would get angry with him.
"Micha, how hard is it to do what I asked?"
Micha flinched; he couldn't stop the reaction even though he'd tried. His gaze skirted around the alley, trying to look out for the threat. But no one was there, and still, the fine hair on the back of Micha's neck stood to attention.When would he ever be normal again?When would shadows and loud, angry voices not scare him and have him cowering in a corner? Micha swallowed back the ball of nerves lodged in his throat, trying to get his voice to work once again.
"Micha, are you really falling for his bullshit act? You aren't turning on me boy, are you?"
Micha shook his head.Why was it always him?Right, because he had shit taste in men and ended up with the worst kind. Love was blind but it did nothing to protect him from bruises or mental exhaustion. His pink gaze swept over the back alley three blocks from Paranormal Guilty Delights.
"Do I need to remind you of what kind of man hereallyis?"
Micha gulped in the rancid air; it smelled of rotten meat and puke, but the strong smells would help him stay hidden from any shifters. "No, that isn't necessary."
Micha had seen the pictures of the blood and bodies littered on the ground without a care. He still had difficulty placing the images with the man he knew now.
But Micha knew first hand how deceiving people could be. "I don't have anything, I swear," Micha said. It wasn't the first time, and he was sure it wouldn't be the last time he came up empty. "I've looked everywhere I can, but he just seems like a really good guy. Everyone at the host bar loves him.”
The shout that pierced his eardrum had Micha dropping down and flinching away from the phone. He was back in that small apartment, his feathers being plucked out of his wings and his ex standing over him yelling, the foul smell of his beer laden breath blowing into Micha’s face.
Micha fought it, but the memory refused to be denied, and bile burned the back of his throat as he was thrust back in time.
"You just think you're high and mighty because humans see you as a fucking angel, a holy creature." Spittle landed on Micha's face, and a fist followed, crashing into his face.
The strength of the blow cracked against his skin. His head whipped to the side, and he stumbled back as colors danced in his vision.
"You ain’t shit. Just a pathetic little parrot," his ex shouted and followed the berating with a swift kick to Micha's torso.
