Two sides of the same coin
The plants outside swayed, casting long shadows that moved with the breeze. The sun was a forgotten presence, reduced to a dull glow. The handset against his ear was cold.
“He’s strangely defensive of his feelings, but it’s clear he’s not happy,” Charmaine told him. “His response was very short and didn’t exactly give me any answers, which told me all I needed to know, that he’s miserable.”
Deep inside, his heart ached. Outside, the wind blew.
“Jean found him in The Valley.”
His body went cold. “What was he doing there?” he asked, his own voice distant enough to belong to somebody else.
“We have no idea; the nurses just found him on the ground, scattered to pieces, so they put him in the bath. No one really saw how he got there. He woke up yesterday.”
“Did they ask him?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t mention it in his letter. I think he jumped.”
A knot closed tightly around his throat, making it hard to breathe.
“He’s doing fine now,” she continued. “I don’t know if they’ll keep him there, or send him back to The Resort, but I asked Jean to return tomorrow and find out for me. He said his hair is darker now.”
“Black?”
“No, chocolate-brown; Jean’s own words. It seems he was a brunette all along, but his soul had decided on a blond color until now. We both know why.”
“When’s the trial?”
“Aiden’s? In three days. If you want him to testify against Blaz, we have to change his mind as soon as possible.”
“That’s not why I asked. I don’t think Blaz will get a second trial.”
“So you’ve decided?”
Distant footfalls echoed, quick but not hurried.
“I haven’t decided anything yet; we drank all night and talked about nothing. No one’s been doing any work, either. They’re waiting for me to sign.”
“If I could get Aiden to testify, you might not need to do anything. I’ll offer him residence across the valley for a week or so in exchange for his testament. He won’t be able to pass that up.”
“He’s very curious about The Court. I know he was just there, but we didn’t stay long. Offer to tell him about it.”
“I’ll add that to my arsenal.”
“Why won’t he do it?”
“He didn’t say; he was too grief-stricken. We all were.”
“Except for—”
“Yes, I know.”
The footsteps grew closer.
“Even if Aiden testifies, I can’t promise you Blaz will fall, especially since he’s leading the army,” she continued. “Whatever comes of the trial will only go in effect after his return.”
“Don’t let him fall.”
One of Dolion’s servants walked in, surprised to find the office doors open. Their eyes met Nathaniel’s across the room. As they parted their lips, Nathaniel covered the transmitter with a hand.
“Zea’s here to see you,” they informed him.
“You know I can’t promise you that,” Charmaine added.
“I’m busy,” he whispered, just loud enough for the human to hear it.
“Adila’s ruling will be the last word; I have no pull there.” Charmaine’s voice flowed from the speaker.
“What should I tell him?” the servant asked.
“If he falls, you’ll simply have to avoid him,” Charmaine continued. “I’m sure The Abyss is big enough for that.”
“Tell him I’m busy.” Nathaniel waved them away. His hand uncovered the transmitter for the next part. “Just don’t let him fall. Don’t get Aiden to testify, don’t put together a second trial; don’t do anything. Just leave it at that for now.”
Hesitantly, the human left the door frame.
“We have three days to act on something that will only take effect months from now,” she explained. “If you miss that window, there’s no going back; Aiden’s word will mean nothing then.”
“Why?” As soon as the question left his lips, realization hit him. “Do you think Aiden’s going to fall?”
“He doesn’t belong here, Nathaniel; he never did. Why would Adila let him stay?”
“He sold his soul. He never actually had any chance to enter Paradise. He deserves that chance.”
“Unfortunately, his soul is bound by a contract and legally belongs to The Abyss. The only way he could get that second chance would be if the contract was nullified.”
“How can we do that?”
“I don’t know the terms to break them; only the demon he signed with could tell you that.”
Heavier, louder footsteps echoed down the same hallway.
“If we null the contract, can he stay in Paradise?” Nathaniel asked.
“He will be sent down to Earth for a second shot. That’s how it works.”
“Is that what he wants?”
“I’d have to ask him.”
Zea stormed into the office with a deep, ugly scowl on his forehead and two hands up in the air, baffled.
Nathaniel’s heart jumped. “I’ll have to call you back. How’s tomorrow morning?”
“Who are you talking to?” Zea asked, loud and angry.
“Is that Zea?”
With his pulse racing loudly in his ears, Nathaniel hung up the phone. “Have you forgotten your manners? I was on the phone.”
Zea flipped him off.
“What do you want?” Nathaniel asked.
“I told you I was coming today. Were you too drunk to remember that?”
His eyes rolled. “You know, Dolion might’ve been onto something when he banned you from his house. I probably shouldn’t have changed that.”
“Who were you talking to?”
“Are you here for any other reason than to vex me?”
“Was Paradise on the line?”
With a breath pulled deep into his chest, Nathaniel leaned back in his seat and stretched his legs under the desk. “Sit down.”
Obediently, Zea complied. The frustration from a second ago was quickly replaced with interest, black eyes wide.
“Why do you care?” Nathaniel asked.
“I’m not allowed to talk to them; no one is. Only Dolion and Venn touch that phone.”
“Well, you didn’t exactly make a name for yourself when you were up there, did you? You were a nobody when you fell, and you’re not going anywhere down here either; of course Paradise won’t pick up your calls.”
Zea scowled again, lips pouting. “Fuck you.”
Nathaniel smirked. “What do you want to call them for?”
Black eyes glanced off, shoulders raised a bit, suddenly shy. “That’s none of your business.”
“It could be. Whatever you tell me, I could pass on to them.”
Their eyes met. Slowly, Zea swallowed. “What do you want?”
“A lot less than what you’re asking me.”
There was suspicion on Zea’s face, eyes slitted up at him.
“Tell me what you want me to say and I’ll tell you what I want from you,” Nathaniel offered, fingers laced.
Zea squinted. “Don’t comment on what I’m going to say. I don’t want to hear a single fucking word about it.”
“Pinky promise.”
A breath filled Zea’s lungs, boots shuffling over the rug. “Tell Adila that Blaz only did what he did because he was following orders. Tell her he didn’t know he was doing anything wrong, and that his intentions were pure.”
His lips parted, but Zea beat him to it.
“Shut up! His trial must be soon, and I know you want to kill him, but I don’t want him down here! He can’t fall!”
“Why not?”
“Because he’ll come after me. He’ll rally the boys and chase me down and I don’t ever want to see him again. I’ve had enough of his shit.”
“Well, you’re a little late; the trial’s already happened. He’s not falling. Actually, he’s been reinstated.”
Black eyes watched him big and wide. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. Now let me tell you my part of the deal…”
“What? There’s no deal; you’re not making the call, so I don’t owe you any favors.”
“Do this for me, and I’ll owe you one. C’mon, we can work something out.”
Leaning back in his seat, Zea crossed both arms over his chest.
Nathaniel sat upright. “Show me the soul contract.”
The scowl on Zea’s face deepened. “Why?”
“Because I’ve never seen one.”
Zea searched his face, trying to find the lie, except there wasn’t one. “If I do that, will you stop being an asshole?”
“I’ll owe you a favor, not a miracle.”
A wide grin cut across Zea’s face, rounding out his cheeks, no dimples in them. Nathaniel decided they looked better that way. “Fine, I’ll let you see it.” There was amusement in his tone, nothing like the mood he’d been in last night.
“But…?”
A shrug, loose and careless. “I don’t know; maybe I’ll just do this for you.”
“If you hold it over my head, I’ll kill you.”
“I mean, you’ll still owe me a favor; I’m just not gonna hound you for it.”
“Alright, then. Where is it?”
“Right behind you.”
His eyebrows promptly furrowed. Swiveling the chair around, he came across a big baroque painting of a demon holding the decapitated head of an angel, very original. He pulled the painting off the wall just enough to peek underneath and see a safe behind it, once again a very original concept.
“It’s in the safe,” Zea added, as if Nathaniel couldn’t have figured that out for himself.
He gave Zea a look over the shoulder, chair swiveling back around. “Yes. Thank you.” With that, he took the painting off the wall. “What’s the combination?”
“I don’t know.”
He turned around to stare Zea in the face. “What do you mean, you don’t know? Why would you keep a soul contract in a safe that you don’t know the combination to?”
“Why wouldn’t I? That’s the safest way to keep it, locked away in the most secure building of The Abyss in a safe that only one person knows the combination to. It’s foolproof.”
“I don’t think you know what foolproof means; Dolion can do whatever he wants with this contract, and he’s one of the biggest fools around here, if not the inventor of fools himself. Don’t you have your own place?”
“Yeah, but you’re missing the point; Dolion doesn’t have the combination, either. Venn does.”
“Why? What a circus.”
“He’s the equivalent of Adila here, the Representative of Justice, except they call themselves prince and princess for some reason.”
Thoughtfully, he hummed. “The Prince of Justice, huh.”
“Yeah.”
“So if everyone’s a prince, why is Dolion The Prince?”
“Probably because he’s the best-known one, I mean, everyone’s looking for revenge.”
Hm. Yeah, that sounded about right. With a start, Nathaniel got up from the chair and circled the desk.
“Venn’s busy,” Zea hurriedly informed him, swiveling the chair around to follow him.
“Doing what?”
“He’s in a meeting with Dolion. Listen,” Zea tried, joining him in the middle of the room. There was a sudden anxiety in him that hadn’t been there a moment ago, in the slight scowl on his forehead and the breath in his throat. It pinched Nathaniel’s eyebrows together. “I actually—I wanted to talk to you about… well… everything, I guess. I—last night, you actually made a pretty good point that I hadn’t really thought about, um, when you said we’re stuck here, so like, the most we can do is just… chill, you know? I—I’ve been—there’s a lot of…” Zea’s hands gesticulated as he talked, squeezing his own fingers as his thoughts came and went. He shut his eyes to center himself, a breath filling up his lungs.
Watching him put his thoughts back in order, Nathaniel was hit with the heavy realization that he’d missed him beyond measure.
“I’ve been so hung up on what you did to me, and for so long too that I guess I haven’t really recognized what I did to you. I pulled you down and fucked you over, but for some reason, it just doesn’t feel like it was enough. Obviously, I’ll always think I got the worst of it, but… I don’t know.” Zea shrugged, eyes off in thought. “Seeing you hanging out with everyone last night made me wonder if you felt even remotely bad about falling as I did, which is stupid, because of course you did, I mean, we ruined each other’s lives, but it also made me realize that this is kind of it, you know? There’s nowhere else to go, nothing else to do; we fucked each other over and now we’re both here. You’re just… better at moving on than I am. It took me ages to just sit down and laugh with everybody else.”
Their eyes met. Deep inside his chest, a warm, fuzzy feeling wrapped around his heart and spread across his ribs, muffling his heart beats, touching his skin like silk. The eyes that watched him were big and honest, just how they used to be in Paradise, when Zea had held his hand under the shade of a cottonwood tree and confessed his feelings, telling him how much he wanted the two of them to be best friends. When Nathaniel made their friendship official, the grin that had cut across Zea’s face had been the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Even now, with horns twisting out of his head, Zea was still strikingly beautiful.
“I didn’t mean to undermine how you felt or sell some absurd idea that I love being here; I’m just trying to get through it in whatever way I can. Sometimes, drinking with a bunch of demons is it,” Nathaniel explained, much nicer than he’d intended to be.
Zea offered him a small, sheepish smile. “I guess I’m just jealous that you always seem to handle everything much better than I can, but then, everything looks easier when somebody else is doing it, huh?”
“Maybe it looks that way because I am, in fact, better than you.”
Zea scoffed through a grin, shoving him on the chest. It put a smile on his face too. “Asshole. You’re such a dick.” His words had no bite, spoken around a wide grin that made Nathaniel’s heart flutter.
The atmosphere between them grew lighter, bringing a familiar feeling of how things used to be, even though he knew nothing would ever be the same again. Still, Zea held the stare and invited him to a sparring match, just like the ones they used to have in the army, when training was done for the day and they had the whole field for themselves. This time, however, they were confined to a building, which Zea let him know actually had a pretty big ballroom halfway up the stairs. It wouldn’t be the same as training on grass, but they’d take it.
The familiarity of it almost got the best of him. What happened at that tavern had been completely different; for as much as they hadn’t aimed to actually hurt each other, they’d still fought to win. In the ballroom, however, exchanging blows and dodging kicks, they sparred to have fun. Zea showed off his athleticism, while Nathaniel showed off his strength. It was clear that Zea had maintained some sort of training regimen, because he wasn’t out of practice at all, still able to chain cartwheels and pull out back bridges as if they were nothing, reflexes still on point. His fighting style had only gotten dirtier, actually, which Nathaniel couldn’t exactly criticize, or be too surprised by, given the circumstances. Still, the overall atmosphere was the same, and as they did their best to impress one another, he was transported back to the training grounds and the grassy fields.
Eventually, he let Zea push him down and sit on his hips, breathing hard, sweat on their brows. The whole world crumbled around them, closing in on this one moment. Panting, Zea stared at him, hands flat on his chest, moving down his body. The weight on his crotch made his blood burn; the hands on his stomach singed. He knew exactly where this was going, the classic end to most of their friendly matches.
His hands ran up Zea’s thighs, feeling the fabric of his jeans, how tightly they hugged him. He squeezed the crease where Zea’s thighs met with his hips—he’d missed him. His heart raced, body shivering. The fire in his veins burned with memories he could never forget. When he ground against him, however, Zea snatched his wrists away and got up.
Still on the floor, Nathaniel propped himself up on an elbow, watching Zea step away. “What is it?”
With his back turned, Zea shook his head, shoulders raised up to his ears. “I can’t, I—I gotta go.” Hurried steps took him across the room.
Getting back up, Nathaniel called out his name, bloodstream pumping ice, a knot in his throat. Zea didn’t stop. It didn’t take much for Nathaniel to catch up to him and grab his elbow, pulling him back. Surprisingly, Zea didn’t jerk his arm away, half-heartedly tugging instead. Nathaniel’s hold loosened, unable to let go completely.
“What’s going on?” he asked, lungs squeezing with guilt.
With his eyes cast down, Zea gently pulled his arm away. “I can’t do this.” His face, always warm, now looked deathly pale. “I look at you and… I remember what happened to me and that it was your fault and I just—I can’t… do this. I can’t be near you. I’m sorry.”
“What happened to you?”
Zea’s hands shook. “We were captured as soon as we fell. The semita, the big door; it leads you straight into the military base. You know that; you’ve been there. The army made us fight each other for freedom. The other angels... They hate me, Nathaniel. They were so angry. They thought they’d be heroes, that they’d be revered in Paradise, not thrown down the mountain and treated like animals.” Zea’s entire body trembled, eyebrows pinched together. “They dogpiled on me while the demons watched.”
His heart raced, a fire in his soul. “How did you survive?”
“They tossed me out at some point. I don’t remember. I woke up in a cell by myself, and after that, it was always just one-on-ones. I was there for weeks.”
“I mean how you got out.”
Zea hugged himself. “I killed one of the demons. They’d come in sometimes, and when this guy showed up alone, I took him out. All of the transformations were already done at that point, so I just flew out and never looked back.”
“Did they give you those tattoos?”
Zea’s hands squeezed his own arms, eyes glancing up at him. “Do you know what they are?”
He made a face in response, causing Zea to shake his head.
“I’m gonna go,” Zea informed him, a poignancy in his voice. “I’ll come back later.”
“I’m sorry,” he spoke quickly, before missing his chance.
Zea glanced up very briefly, a helplessness that hurt to see. In silence, Nathaniel followed him out of the ballroom.
Zea had been treated much differently than him. Did the soldiers at the military base only let Nathaniel go because they were late for the war? If there wasn’t one, would they have captured and tortured him too? Considering just how many times Nathaniel had met them on the battlefield, it’d be understandable to see them take their frustrations out on him. Zea, on the other hand, hadn’t had a strong presence in any wars before falling. It’d be surprising to learn they even knew who he was. Judging the cruelty they’d treated a complete stranger with, Nathaniel had reason to believe they’d do him, their actual enemy, much worse, so why hadn’t they?
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