Meeting royalty
The room he woke up in was gothic, tall and dark with big windows rounded at the top, semi-drawn curtains and black wallpaper on the walls, intricate designs, flirting with gold. Despite the darkness, he didn’t seem to have any trouble seeing, now able to differentiate black shapes and shadowy figures better than ever before.
His surroundings were heavily furnished, leaving almost no empty space in the room. The wide and comfortable bed below him made it clear that this was a bedroom, although it might as well be a living room and study all in one. Near the bed were two nightstands, a rug, an armchair, a dresser, pictures on the wall, a chandelier hanging from the ceiling and a mirror, all on a platform two steps high. It reminded him of The Resort.
His wings were both fully formed and flexible, like a bat’s, no longer painful. The full-length mirror was partially covered by a white sheet, so he pulled it off to look at himself, finding a perfect demon in his place, or almost perfect. The horns, fully formed, were larger at the base and sharp at the ends, in the shape of an S with the tips pointed up at the ceiling. His hair had turned jet black, but had remained just as straight as before, going from a meticulously styled combover to a messy one. Normally, he’d fix it.
The only difference between his and Zea’s transformations was that his irises had faded to white, making him seem blind despite his eyesight’s nocturnal improvements. The wounds that encased one of his eyes remained intact, shining gold on his skin, the same way he’d last seen it. Had the Oracle’s blood interfered with the mutations?
Footsteps outside the bedroom door, heavy and hurried, so sudden that they startled him. He had no idea where he was, whose house this belonged to, or how he’d even gotten here. Standing perfectly still, he held his breath and listened.
The footsteps seemed to be following a straight hallway, approaching. He held a breath—the steps walked past. His lungs exhaled. Who else was here? He walked slowly, carefully, so the sole of his boots didn’t make any noise, wings close to his sides. A positive attribute to this room’s over-the-top furnishing was the multiple rugs, which made crossing it very quiet.
One hand turned the doorknob and pulled it open just a slit, enough for one eye to peek through and see a dark wall. Pulling the door further, he glanced out and learned that the hallway crossed the entire floor, leading to a room on the right. He couldn’t see much from here, just an accent cabinet with intricate doors and a couple of windows. The fact they overlooked the top floors of other buildings meant this wasn’t the first floor.
The owner of the quick footsteps was nowhere to be found. This was the perfect time to do some exploring.
The mid-hallway area turned out to be a sitting room with a few couches, cabinets, and a fireplace. Did demons get cold or was the fireplace merely decorative? The thick rug muted his footfalls as he crossed for the arch, which opened to a big and opulent staircase covered by red velvet carpet. The steps before him climbed down to a landing with a big, heavy door on the wall where the two stairways converged. They morphed into one big set that climbed the rest of the way down.
Three distinct voices drifted up the stairway shaft as Nathaniel regarded it, letting him know there were people at the bottom. They joked around, somehow trying to make a point at the same time. He stood and listened for a minute. None of them sounded familiar, but he managed to catch a name amid the confusion: Dolion, The Prince, the demon who Charmaine had told him to find. Chances of him randomly waking up in the same place as the one guy whom he happened to be looking for were a little too slim to make it a coincidence. He continued down the stairs.
The ceiling in this room was two stories high, big and spacious with a big dungeon-like door at the very end and huge windows, rounded at the top, red curtains drawn over them. A massive chandelier hung above the center of a long dinner table that could comfortably fit about twenty people, laid out with a banquet and a lot of wine.
One of the demons sat at the head of the table with his back to the stairway, while the other two sat at each of his sides, chairs turned slightly askew to face him better. Due to their sitting arrangements, the two guests were the ones who caught sight of Nathaniel first, pausing the conversation. One of them was a woman with bright red eyes; the other was a man whose eyes were just like everybody else’s, but whose skin was much darker than the rest, closer to the angels in paradise.
“There you are,” the woman commented, voice light, almost delighted. Her long, straight hair reminded him of Charmaine’s, how delicately it spilled over a shoulder, except hers was black and split on the side. Besides her striking beauty, that was pretty much where their similarities ended. His heart squeezed, but he ignored it.
The woman’s greeting caused the demon at the head of the table to turn for a glance, eyes bright red as well, horns shooting up into the air, curved inwards like a bison’s. The demon grinned big and wide as soon as their eyes met.
“Oh my god, you're up!” the man exclaimed, springing from his chair to join Nathaniel. “Holy shit, dude. We were seriously starting to consider our options in case you were actually dead.”
Had he been unconscious for that long?
“What's wrong with your face?” the woman asked. Glancing at her once again, the similarities between her and the demon standing up suddenly became perfectly clear. They must be twins.
“Are you Dolion?” Nathaniel asked, ignoring her question.
“Yes. This is Venn and this is Victoria.” A hand indicated each of them respectively.
“We work together,” Venn explained, almost bored. The wine glass in his hand was promptly brought up for a sip, eyes watching Nathaniel over the rim. The fact they didn’t match the twins’ red eyes, his skin tone was off and his horns curled by each one of his ears made Nathaniel believe he wasn’t another sibling.
“We found you in a tavern outside of town, passed out cold on a cot,” Victoria commented, her bison-like horns glinting burgundy red under the chandelier lights. “What happened there? You were asleep for three whole days.”
Three whole days?!
“Zea was looking for you,” Venn added carelessly.
The remark made Nathaniel’s pulse jump. “He’s already found me.”
“Hey, okay, listen.” Dolion waved his guests off to preemptively dismiss anything they might bring up, which they didn’t. “You're in my house; this is my house. You can stay as long as you want. It's totally fine; I really don’t mind it. We’re a little loud sometimes and things can get pretty wild late at night, but if that doesn't bother you, then you’re welcome to stay. Victoria is my sister, and Venn is my—my business partner. We run a very successful firm together. Please, have a seat.” That last part was spoken with a gesture.
Nathaniel refused to move. “What do you and your… partner… do?”
“We create fate.” Dolion’s lips curled into a suspicious smile, eyes wide, jazz hands up in the air.
“No, we don’t. Stop saying that,” Venn interrupted. “We give our clients the opportunity to right a few wrongs. Particularly if the system has failed them in some way.”
“The system is perfect,” Nathaniel defended.
“Then why is Blaz still in Paradise?” Dolion argued. “Why is he working for Salus again?”
Of course he would be. That didn’t surprise Nathaniel at all. “Has his trial passed?”
“Yes. He’s right back at it, baby; all engines up running like nothing ever happened, like you were never even there.”
“Adila doesn’t know the full story; she’s only been given his accounts of what happened. You know exactly what he did and didn’t tell her. It’s not the system; it’s the mistrials.”
“Would you like a chance to set the record straight?” Venn asked. His interest put a squint on Nathaniel’s face.
“What’s in it for you?”
“Business. Fame. Power.” Dolion’s eyes widened. “That’s our currency. The more you’re needed, the more people know you, the more powerful you are. I run this town.”
Over Dolion’s shoulder, Nathaniel caught Venn rolling his eyes.
“Is that why they call you The Prince?”
“Yes, The Prince of Vengeance. Now, if you’d follow me to my study, I have someone who’d love to hear from you…” Dolion started for the left wing of the room, under the stairway. Nathaniel tagged behind with his heart punching him in the throat, a deep poignancy washing over his body. “In fact, she’s been calling me every day for the last week. Are you sure you two aren’t in love?”
For the last week?
“Wasn’t I only asleep for three days?”
“Well, you’ve been here for three days; that’s when we found you, but you fell eight days ago.”
“Eight days ago?!”
“I guess you’ve been asleep for longer than I thought.” Dolion turned around to face him so suddenly that Nathaniel almost ran into him, stopping just in time. “You know, a human would’ve straight up died from the number of pills you took in that room. Just—what were you trying to do? Kill yourself? There are way more efficient ways to do that here. We were worried sick.”
“I’m sure you know exactly how it feels to have two giant horns growing out of your skull. I was just trying to get that over with; I wasn’t going to kill myself. It was calculated.”
Dolion breathed in deeply, red eyes glancing off with his thoughts, showing more of the black that surrounded it. This close to each other, it occurred to Nathaniel just how short Dolion was, a good six inches below him.
“Yeah, the itching could drive anyone crazy. I almost gored Victoria raging bull style when we were kids, just because I was so tired of scratching myself. She beat me to it, though.”
Hm.
“I see our experiences were vastly different. There was no itching for me.”
“Must be because you grew two adult-sized horns in the span of a week when it usually takes us about twenty years to do it, like wisdom teeth. You got wisdom teeth?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Well, do you?”
Nathaniel scowled at him.
Dolion shrugged, turning around to enter what looked like a sunroom with glass panels for walls. “We’re different; you said it yourself. I made a comparison without checking if you’d even get it, or if I was just making it all worse for myself. I mean, how would I even go about explaining what wisdom teeth are? I’d just be digging my own grave there. I’m glad we both have that in common.”
“We are almost exactly the same.”
Despite there being no actual sunlight, there was still a kind of brightness that shone into the room and cast dull, moving shadows across the floor in the vague shape of the plants outside. The garden was so full that nothing else could be seen from these windows. Rounding the corner was an open door that led to what must be Dolion’s office, directly in front of the garden.
“You didn’t have horns before this,” Dolion expertly commented.
“No, but everything else is pretty much the same. That’s the point I’m making.”
The office was a relatively small room with no windows, very private. The east and west walls were practically made of bookshelves that completely covered them up, big and heavy. In the dead center of the room was a thick red rug, and at the end was a heavy wooden desk with some chairs, a desk phone, and a few decorative pieces.
“You got fangs?” Dolion asked, throwing him a glance as they crossed for the desk.
“No. Do you?”
With a wide grin, Dolion took a seat. Admittedly, they were small, barely noticeable from a distance, but still there.
“Alright, you’ve got me; there’s nothing about us that’s even remotely similar.” Nathaniel’s eyes rolled.
“What are you talking about? We’re practically the same.”
Oh my god.
“Dolion, can you please just call Charmaine for me?”
With a click of the tongue, Dolion reached for the desk phone and brought it closer, cord extending across the surface. Holding the receiver to one ear, he punched a few buttons.
They waited in silence. Dolion’s eyes roamed aimlessly, hair covering up his forehead, brushed to the side like a short version of his sister’s. In a white dress shirt and a black cashmere sweater, he looked nothing like what the words Prince of Vengeance made Nathaniel think of. He’d even go so far as to say Dolion was actually pretty cute for a demon. Not his type, however.
“Hey, guess who I have in my office!” Dolion suddenly exclaimed, lips curling into a smile. “Yes, of course.” Letting the smile drop, he offered Nathaniel the handset.
“Charmaine?”
“Oh my god, I’m so glad to hear from you.” While her tone was relieved, there was still something beneath the surface, a hint of tension that made his blood run cold. “I thought you were dead.”
“I’m fine; don’t worry. There were some setbacks when I got here, but they’ve been dealt with.” Fortunately, she couldn’t see what he’d become. “I’m sorry for taking so long to contact you.”
“A lot’s happened since you left. Blaz’s trial—”
“I know; Dolion told me. He’s Salus’ Representative again.”
“Yes. The trial was very quick; only Striker came to the stand, and nothing he said implicated Blaz in any way, because of course it wouldn’t. Your statement was brought up too, but not clarified or detailed, so Adila was forced to dismiss it. I tried to get in contact with you to maybe gather some more evidence against him, but there was no way to reach you. They said you were comatose. What happened?”
“I—” He felt like an idiot now. “I screwed up. I didn’t know it was possible to contact The Abyss for the trial of an angel; it’s never happened before. I didn’t think I could help.”
“While it is true that your word isn’t as relevant anymore, what you said before falling still counts. I don’t know what he did to you; I don’t know what to look for. I need your help to find evidence.”
“There’s no evidence; only what I experienced.”
“Then… I suppose you never had a case.”
His heart skipped. “You could’ve asked Aiden to take the stand. He knows what happened.”
“He refused to come.”
A tight knot closed around his throat. “Right.”
“There wasn’t much insistence, to be honest; it was all very rushed. The eagerness to declare Blaz’s innocence took over the trial completely. We needed someone capable of leading the army, so letting him walk was in everyone’s best interests. You started a war, after all.”
“I never meant to. I didn’t know my fall was the signal until I saw all the demons fly out.”
“There was no way you could’ve known. Out of the two of us, I should’ve been the one to put all the pieces together. I’ve been working with Dolion for years; I can usually tell when he’s up to something.”
Dolion? His lips parted with a question, but she beat him to it, speaking first.
“Oh, I see why he cut contact with me during that time. That explains it.”
What did Dolion do? he almost asked when it all hit him. Dolion’s involvement explained the extreme lengths of the operation and how professionally it’d been managed, something that was completely outside of Zea’s reach. A business built on vengeance, righting the wrongs of the system—how could Zea pass that up? Fire burned in his chest. Instead of strangling Dolion with the coil cord, Nathaniel swiveled his chair around.
“Did you—were you part of it?” he asked her.
“Of course not! I’ve never been involved in their operations; they’re completely immoral. If I knew anything about it, I would’ve told you right away. You know that.”
“I know, I—” Fuck. “It doesn’t matter; I’m already here.”
“Blaz can still be brought to justice, if we manage to form a strong case against him. It all depends if you’re going to pursue it. Are you?”
He grimaced, feeling the fire in his chest begin to subside, giving way to a deep-seated ache. “I don’t know. I don’t think I can.”
“We could try, at the very least. It’s worth a shot.”
“There’s no evidence, Charmaine. No proof, just the words of a fallen and a human eyewitness who was part of the scheme and refuses to speak. We have nothing.”
“Well… if that’s it, then there’s always a second option, depending on how badly you want to see it done. The ones who planned your demise know exactly what Blaz did, but you know what getting involved means. You, better than anyone, know how immoral it is.”
“Would you do it?” His leg bounced. “If you were in my place.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to answer that.”
A silent nod, even though Charmaine couldn’t see it.
“I don’t endorse Dolion’s business in any way, but if you decide to sign… I’ll support you. I’ll always support you.”
A lump in his throat made it hard to swallow, heart beating deeply. “How’s Aiden?” The name barely made it past his lips, slicing his tongue on the way out. The sentimentality of that question hurt.
“I haven’t seen him since…” Charmaine trailed off. So she wasn’t able to say it, either. “I don’t know how he is. I could send him a letter, if you want.”
“Please,” he muttered.
“I’ll contact you when he responds, hopefully tomorrow. In the meantime, I’d like for you to consider all your options and decide how you want to proceed. If you’re not signing with Dolion, we’ll need to start gathering what we can right away.”
He didn’t think he’d be able to make a decision of that magnitude in twenty-four hours, but her point still stood. “I’ll do my best.”
“Now tell me what happened to you.”
His pulse jumped, eyebrows lifted halfway up his forehead. “What do you mean?”
“Why were you comatose? What happened?”
Oh. A breath left his lungs. “I—there’s a transformation that takes place when angels fall down here; our bodies change to assimilate and survive. It starts pretty much instantly. I was going through it when you tried to call me.”
“Do you… look like one of them now?”
“Yes. You wouldn’t want to see me.”
“He looks like a freak,” Dolion cut in, making Nathaniel turn around to shoot him a look.
Charmaine scoffed. “Tell him you still look better than he does.”
“Have you seen him?”
“I don’t need to.”
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but he decided not to use this one on Dolion just yet; he’d save it for a special occasion. Right now, he let the guy lean back on his chair and enjoy the smugness of his unrequited remark, and if that smirk reminded him of somebody else, it really wasn’t the point.
The rest of their conversation was a mixture of friendly banter and poignant commentary on how their days had been going without each other. He’d known Charmaine ever since becoming a Representative, coming to find a steady and loyal figure in her, motherly even. She was so important to him that carrying on without her felt wrong, like he’d taken a wrong turn and never made it back home. Her absence made everything a whole lot worse.
When the call ended, he placed the handset back on the hook. Dolion watched him half-lidded, with the ghost of a smile on his face.
“So you orchestrated everything,” Nathaniel started, keeping his voice level. “You made me fall.”
“It’s a living, my friend. We get hired; we do our jobs—no hard feelings. I’d like to help with your retribution as I’d help anybody else. It’s not because you were a subject of my work that I have anything against you. This is really not personal at all.”
Nathaniel nodded, teeth clenching. It was just business, after all; impersonal and detached. The hit on him had been carried out for its own benefits. “Did you get Blaz and Striker to work for you too?”
“Striker’s been with us for years; he’s our eyes in Paradise. Blaz was actually Venn’s idea. We needed an invisible man to do some of the more delicate jobs. Without him, we would’ve never had a plan.”
“I take it Zea brought in Aiden, and everything fell into place.”
“It wasn’t as simple as that, you know; the whole thing took us three years to perfect, but yeah. We put together a skeleton, then filled in the blanks. Venn and I have been at this for years; there’s nothing we can’t do at this point.”
“Clearly.”
The smile on Dolion’s face slowly materialized, little fangs glinting. “We could bring Blaz to justice. Real justice.”
“I’m aware.”
“We could make him fall too.”
“And have him here with me for the rest of eternity? That’s a hard pass.”
“Well… there are other ways to ruin his life. We could end his career. We could send him back into obscurity.”
A pang hit the forefront of his head, letting him know this conversation was over. He could no longer hear this man’s name. “Can we move past this? I know his trial was unjust and he doesn’t deserve his job back, but that’s not my problem. All I want right now is to never see him again, alright?”
The smile on Dolion’s face slowly faded as he went on, eyebrows moving closer together with disappointment. “But Blaz ruined your life and got away with it. He told the Oracle to share your private information with Aiden, exposed your relationship to everyone in The Resort, and blatantly provoked you before beating you into a pulp. He played you better than anyone and now has a shining reputation for being the guy who banned the sinful angel. He’s living it up, dude. Are you sure you don’t care?”
“Yes, I care. Of course I care, but talking about it, I can’t help thinking of all the ways I could’ve changed what happened. I could’ve let everyone at The Resort think what they wanted, and been harsher with Aiden from the very beginning. I could’ve uncovered the whole thing by myself. The altercation in the bathroom…” His heart raced with the memories; Aiden on his knees, Blaz staring directly at him. Even now, his blood still boiled. “Did he force himself on Aiden?” The question practically flew out of his mouth, too fast for him to catch it.
Dolion scowled. “In the bathroom?”
“Yes. Was it all part of the plan, or were they just lovers bonding over their hatred for me?”
“I mean, you walking in on them kissing or whatever was part of the plan, yeah, but only Blaz knew about that. Aiden wasn’t in on it.”
“Kissing?” he scoffed, a sarcastic half-smirk on his lips. “What do you think happened in there?”
Dolion’s face promptly reddened, eyes growing wide. “I don’t know the specifics, dude! I gave him the general outline of what we needed and he ran with it. If anything happened, it was because he got Aiden to do it.”
“So what did Aiden know?”
“Just that he was supposed to sleep with you. He didn’t have to do it more than once.”
“I thought… he knew Blaz. I thought he knew everyone involved.”
“Nah, it would’ve been too risky; we didn’t really tell him anything.”
“Did he at last know Blaz beforehand?”
“Maybe; I don’t know. Blaz could’ve been talking to him for a while before the bathroom thing happened. It might’ve been why he was able to take things further than expected that day.”
That made sense. It was obvious that Aiden had been sleeping around; he’d even admitted to it. They weren’t together, anyway. Feeling any which way about it was pointless. Aiden had always been free to do whatever he wanted; so what? It didn’t matter. Whether he’d been seeing Blaz behind Nathaniel’s back or directly in front of him didn’t change anything. It didn’t break any rules either, because their involvement had never been exclusive. It hadn’t even meant anything, all for the success of the plan. Zea had been telling him the truth all along.
“Is the Oracle still alive?” he asked, a whisper.
“I don’t know; haven’t heard anything about her.”
“She said you’d free her. Not you, but the plan overall; that she was only in it to break out of jail.”
Suddenly, laughter erupted from Dolion’s throat, little fangs glinting under the light. “Holy shit, I forgot about that! We totally promised her freedom, didn’t we? Man, what a ride. She’s gonna be pissed.”
“You lied to her.”
“Fuck yeah, I lied! We might have an awesome reach in both realms, but there’s no way I can actually free her. That’s way beyond us.”
Shaking his head, Nathaniel got up. “You’re a fucking asshole. C’mon, let’s have a drink.”
Dolion followed him out grinning from ear to ear.
Both Victoria and Venn had remained at the dinner table. Their conversation ended as the other two arrived, dark eyes watching over the rim of their glasses, lips stained red. Nathaniel took a seat by Venn, and without invitation, helped himself to a glass of wine. Dolion reclaimed his previous seat.
“Are we in business?” Victoria asked, watching Nathaniel drink.
“He’s still thinking about it,” Dolion cut in.
“I wasn’t aware you were in the business,” Nathaniel remarked, holding Victoria’s stare.
She smiled. “Not technically, but it interests me very much. My ideas can be rather useful sometimes.”
“What kind of ideas do you have?”
“Awful ones.” The words left her through a threatening whisper, lips baring her full-sized fangs. “Bloody and gory, like a horror movie. Blaz gave you that terrible thing on your face, didn’t he? I think you should repay him in kind. Make him sparkle.”
“That’s a solid idea. Why aren’t you hired?”
“Oh, I’m busy enough as it is.” Nonchalant and relaxed, Victoria leaned back on her chair and sipped on her wine.
“How much would you like to do that?” Venn asked, turning to glance at Nathaniel. White irises watched him patiently as he drank from his glass, intrigue on Venn’s face. When he brought the glass back down, Venn graciously refilled it for him.
“I’d like not to think about him before making any compromising decisions. Thank you.”
“That’s fair.” A shrug and Venn placed the bottle back down.
“While you two were chatting, Venn was telling me about all the people that might be liable for your fall. For as much as Blaz deserves judgment, he didn’t work alone. Aiden, for example. What do you think he deserves?” Victoria wickedly asked, a proper devil’s smirk on her face.
His lips parted to answer, interrupted by a loud noise coming from the front of the room. Turning to face it, the table found none other than Zea walking in, wooden doors slamming against the walls, footfalls loud and heavy across the floor. A couple of human servants rushed in behind him, wide-eyed and bewildered, quickly apologizing for failing to stop him. He’d simply barged in.
“Where the fuck is he, Dolion? I know you’re keeping him here!” Zea shouted while walking the length of the table on Victoria’s side. “The barman saw you at the tavern, so stop lying to me!”
A deep breath left Nathaniel’s lungs. “Zea, please calm down.”
Zea stopped in his tracks, staring at him wide-eyed. He clearly hadn’t recognized Nathaniel after the transformations.
In addition to his own glass, Nathaniel filled up another. “Take a seat.”
Despite his command, Zea didn’t move. Shock had turned him mute.
“He was unconscious,” Dolion explained, a certain irk in his voice. “And, anyway, this is not about you. We’re doing business, so if you could please show yourself out…”
“No, let him stay.” Nathaniel nodded at the empty spot on his right. “C’mon, have a seat.”
Coming out of the shock, Zea slowly scowled, eyes squinting with suspicion. Still, he started around the table. “You look different. Is the transformation still in progress, or are your eyes gonna look like that forever? It’s bizarre.”
“Tell me what isn’t bizarre about all this,” Nathaniel challenged. “We’re not even proper demons, Zea; we’re cheap rip-offs, and the most screwed up part is that we’ll be this way forever. I know it’s all very natural to you now, considering you’ve been acting like one of them for years. You even signed with them—”
“I had no choice!” Zea snapped.
“That’s not the point. You did have a choice, but that’s not the point.”
“No one does what they do. There was no one I could call. I had no one to help me—!”
Nathaniel shushed him. “I don’t care; just listen. None of this is normal. None of it is even remotely what I envisioned for myself, but we’re both already down here. It doesn’t matter if you took the deal. It doesn’t matter if you did anything at all; none of it is going to change the fact we’re stuck here forever. This mansion belongs to the most powerful demon in The Abyss, so why don’t you just take a seat and have some wine with me? Please. We’re trying to decide on a fitting punishment for Blaz.”
The table stared at him.
“Well, I gave you my opinion,” Victoria chimed in. “I think it’d be cathartic for you to beat him up, or at least have the chance to do it.”
“Does that mean we’re in business?” Dolion asked, eyebrows raised with his interest.
“Don’t pressure him,” Venn hissed, not even sparing his business partner a glance. “The man is simply humoring us; let him have it. If he wants a deal, he’ll come forward with one.”
“Please, Dolion, have some fun.” Nathaniel took his glass and drank from it.
Rounding the end of the table, Zea quietly approached.
“Blaz took away your dignity, so take away his. It’s payback.” Victoria shrugged.
“What else have you got?” Nathaniel asked.
“If we’re not pushing him down, then we can bring The Abyss up to him. Make his life miserable; take away any semblance of comfort and respect he still has. Isn’t that Paradise’s currency? A pristine reputation, respect? We can make him wish he’d fallen,” Dolion added, swirling the wine in his glass.
Nathaniel smirked. “And then what?”
“Make sure he crawls back into the hole he’s spent the last century in. We all know how much he despises it,” Venn continued, a nonchalance in the tone of his voice.
Zea took the seat Nathaniel had offered. “If we turn the army against him, he’ll never feel joy again.”
The table turned to look at him, pleasantly surprised. Dark eyes promptly found Nathaniel. Holding the stare, Nathaniel clinked their glasses together, even though Zea hadn’t touched his yet. As the evening progressed, that didn’t change. Come to think of it, he hadn’t touched his glass of whiskey back at that tavern either.
The table bounced from topic to topic, light and fun to keep the atmosphere pleasant. Zea was the only one who preferred not to join in, so Nathaniel nudged him, striking parallel conversations. It was strange to see him act so shy when he used to be the center of attention, a drunk and popular mess.
“What’s going on with you?” Nathaniel whispered.
“What do you mean, what’s going on with me? You’re the one being weird right now. You don’t even know these people.”
“I’m trying to get to know them, but you’re being a huge buzzkill. I hope you realize that.”
Zea shook his head. “This is so fucked up. You hate demons, Nathaniel, even more than I do! But here you are anyway, at fucking Dolion’s house, getting all chummy with his friends like you’re siblings. I don’t get it.”
“Yeah, it’s crazy. It’s fucking insane, but what am I supposed to do, huh? Go on a killing spree where I’m severely outnumbered? Antagonize the most powerful people in The Abyss? We’re one of them, Zea. Just look at us. You know that better than I do; you made a deal with them. You’ve worked with them for years. So where’s the criticism coming from? What is this?”
“I just find it hard to believe you woke up like, three hours ago after being asleep for a whole week and you’re already making friends, acting like you’re in some kind of clique. It’s bullshit.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Why are you avoiding me?!” Zea practically shouted, getting the table’s attention by accident. The stares burned the back of Nathaniel’s head.
“I’m not avoiding you, and I’m not lying to you either. I literally just woke up.”
“Yeah, I’m not buying that, not when Dolion’s been throwing me out all week. How long are you gonna hate me for?”
The table quickly picked up a separate discussion, disinterested in engaging with the other two. Zea didn’t even flinch, holding the stare so steadfastly that nothing else mattered. The look on his face, the hurt in his eyes was familiar. They brought Nathaniel back to the Great Expunging, standing at the top of the mountain, betrayal in glassy brown eyes. His throat closed.
“I didn’t ask him to do that, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Nathaniel explained. “I don’t know why he’s avoiding you. I didn’t even know he was, because, as I said, I just got up. I’m serious. This isn’t some elaborate plan to keep you away from me.”
“You tell me to, and I quote, stay the fuck away from you, then disappear for an entire week, like someone who doesn’t want to be found, and when I do find you, you wanna talk all of a sudden? You wanna be near me again? It all just seems a little premeditated, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, okay, so I had a change of heart. Big deal. I just want to sit back and have some wine.”
“A change of heart?” Zea scoffed.
“All I’ve heard so far was bad news. My life is over, Zea; you won. It’s through. Can we just have a pleasant evening now, please?”
Zea acquiesced, lips pouting. The pain was still there, in the curve of his mouth, in the depths of his eyes, unspoken but perfectly visible. He didn’t care to hide it. Where had it come from? The distrust was clear as day, roots that traced all the way back to Paradise, but the hurt was unexpected, from a source Nathaniel couldn’t identify. If it came from his silence this last week, then it wasn’t his fault, but Zea refused to believe him, still wary. Could this pain still be the original one, from his first betrayal? If Zea still held onto that, then he probably still held onto the pain, too.
“Are you still upset with me?” Nathaniel asked.
Zea’s eyes dropped to his own lap, a delicate scowl on his face. Oh my god.
“After all this time, after everything you did, you’re still upset with me.”
“You have no idea what you did to me.” Zea’s voice trembled.
“Yeah, I think I do.”
“No, you don’t, and yeah, I still resent you for what happened.” Zea spoke louder now, eyes up at Nathaniel, big and pained. “I fucking hate you for that, and I hate that I can’t stay away from you, or move on from you, or live a life without you in it. You sacrificed me and I still fucking want you. I’m sick.” His speech became consistently more strained as he talked, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He turned his face away, eyes shining under the soft glow of the chandelier.
Nathaniel reached across the small gap between them and touched Zea’s hand, closed into a tight fist in his own lap. He delicately traced the bumps of his knuckles, feeling the leather of his gloves give way to the softness of his fingers, scars jutting from the skin. The hand remained closed.
“I missed you,” Nathaniel confessed.
Zea’s lip quivered, eyes glinting with tears.
“I hate what you did to me, but I understand why you did it. I betrayed you first.”
“No shit,” Zea spat, snatching his hand away. “You’re fucking disgusting.” He swallowed, lips pressed together to try and stop the quivering. His words had bite, but didn’t actually sting; Nathaniel was far too focused on the pain that he consistently failed to conceal to let himself be affected by that. He didn’t even disagree with it, after all. Staring at the shine on Zea’s eyes, he felt his heart ache.
“Why were you looking for me?” Nathaniel asked.
“You know why.”
His hand squeezed, a hole in his chest—the inseparable nature of their relationship was his fault. Without a word, he reached for his glass and drank from it. Zea’s glass had remained untouched. When Nathaniel turned to glance at him, Zea furtively looked away.
“Why aren’t you drinking?”
“I don’t feel like it.”
“You used to.”
Zea declined further explanation, keeping quiet as the others talked, filling the room with laughter. He obviously didn’t feel like talking, so Nathaniel decided against pushing him and joined the others. Resting his chin in a hand, Zea watched the table, unimpressed. He didn’t find any of their jokes funny, keeping to himself for the rest of the night.
At one point, he stopped avoiding Nathaniel’s gaze, holding the stare every now and then. It probably didn’t mean anything, but Nathaniel’s pulse still skipped. In silence, Zea reached across the small space between them and touched his forearm, fingertips over his wrist, hidden away from view. He watched him out of the corner of his eye, his touch featherlight and secretive, almost timid. Delicate fingers drew invisible patterns on the back of his hand until he flipped it over, letting Zea hold it, palms resting comfortably together, just how they used to. They hadn’t done this in years.
Jokes died as the table grew quiet, eyelids drooping with intoxication, smiles wide on their faces. The night had naturally come to an end.
Perhaps it was the emptiness that came with the parting of Zea’s hand from his own, or perhaps it was the sight of Zea getting up to leave, but anxiety suddenly took him over and, as they stood in the gap between their chairs, he invited Zea to stay the night. He’d been discreet, in case the others happened to be listening, which they most likely weren’t. A scowl found him in response, black eyes that searched his face and the ghost of a grimace that told him he’d asked the wrong question. Had he been inappropriate? The alcohol content in his bloodstream prevented him from feeling any which way about it. Swallowing hard, Zea took a step away from him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Zea promised, scowl slowly dissipating.
For some reason, Nathaniel decided against contesting that.
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