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Well hell.
I sink into the pillow and blink against the darkness.
I really work better when I have goals. Stomping through the snow last night, everything seemed so clear. But now… what comes next?
Because despite the sex, I can’t imagine it’s as simple as happily ever after.
I roll over in bed toward him, a little panicked.
He’s a light sleeper, and he immediately wakens, his wings lifting out behind him. His chest flares with light, illuminating his golden-colored cat’s eyes.
I thought they were creepy when I first met him.
But now… well, they’re actually kinda beautiful. Not that I’m going to let him know I think that.
“Trying to run again, little consort?” he growls.
I roll my eyes. “Please. If I was trying to run, I’d be much sneakier.”
A growl comes from low in his chest which glows brighter.
“Oh please.” I smack his shoulder lightly. His eyes dart to where I just touched him, then back to my face.
“I’m not trying to run,” I say softly. “I just thought…” I lower my eyes. “Since it seems like this is gonna be, ya know, a long-term kinda thing—”
“Forever,” he interjects.
I roll my eyes again. “Would you let me finish?”
He just lets out one of those little snuffling huffs he does.
I raise my eyes to his again. “Then I thought maybe we should actually know each other’s names.”
This time he’s the one who blinks in surprise. Ha. For once I’ve caught him off guard.
I suck in a breath, surprised at the nervousness that’s suddenly hit my chest. I say it in a rush. “I’ll start. My name’s Hannah. What’s yours?”
“Han-nah,” he tries it out, putting emphasis on both syllables like they’re two separate words. I can’t help but smile.
“Now yours,” I urge.
“Abaddon,” he says. “The Destroyer.”
“Oh.” I nod, trying not to show any alarm. “Nice.”
“Creator-Father said it was a good name for a chimera demon.”
“A what?” I try not to choke, my voice going high-pitched. He did not just say what I think he did. Did he? Did he? I’ve been having sex with a freaking demon?
Abaddon sighs. “Not that I’m a real demon.”
“Oh,” I nod, trying to look as non-judgmental as possible while my sky-rocketing heartbeat slows. A little, anyway. Now that I’ve finally got him talking—who knew all it took was sleepy morning-after running away and kinky sex that was the trick? Okay, I’m still only feeling slightly hysterical. “From everything you’ve said, I take it you and… Creator-Father didn’t get along?”
He huffs out a bitter laugh. “No. I wasn’t a real angel. I’d come out a demon instead, and he’d tried so hard.”
His wings flare out behind him. They usually only do that when he’s turned on or angry. I’m taking that it’s anger this time.
“He stole the angel-spark from the Great Hall when he left. He thought he could take it and recreate more like himself.” He shakes his head, a grimace turning his mouth down. “But all he could find on earth was… bits and pieces. Like your Frankenstein story. He tried to stitch things together and infuse us with angel spark.”
He stares at the dark ceiling, his chest glowing brighter still. “He hoped to create a great army to follow him. Thinking that one day we might even retake the Great Hall on the plane of light.”
“Like… Heaven?” I ask, my voice an octave higher than normal.
He waves a hand dismissively. “Not like you mortals think of it. But yes, there are great beings of light there. Others like Creator-Father’s forebearers were once was before they fell. Anyway—”
I want to protest. Uh, can we go back to the part where Heaven, or something like it, might be real?
But he’s already moving on. “Creator-Father failed at his every attempt. First came Thing.”
“Thing?”
“My brother with many arms and the wicked tail.”
Oh. Yes, I remember Thing quite well.
“Then he reached in the forge and tried again to create me, Abaddon, who might be his great Destroyer after all. But I was only another disappointment, having nowhere near the beauty of the angels he sought to recreate. Not that it deterred Creator-Father. He simply tried again. Thus came Romulus and Remus, and… other experiments gone awry.” His eyes go distant.
It feels like I’m hearing some sort of new mythology being read out of a book. And I’ve always loved a good story.
“What happened then?” I ask.
He looks back at me. “You really want to know?”
“Are you kidding? You can’t stop now! What happened?”
He blinks, those cat’s eyes of his sliding sideways. “Well, for a time, though he was disappointed by our ugliness, we still tried to be all that Creator-Father hoped. My brothers and I were… good at destruction. But we were unruly, too, and the world was changing, no longer welcoming gods among them…”
He is slow to speak, and I get the sense that for every bit that he is telling me, there is a mountain he is leaving out, like I’m getting only a glimpse of the iceberg visible above the surface. But I’m grateful for even scraps of information, so I listen avidly as he continues.
