Fear the Reaper [malexmale]

Chapter Thirteen

"Normally I'd suggest you go on your own," he said, and I muttered the word traitor under my breath that made Rowan shrug, "However. There may be things you cannot translate that I can."

"How could you translate it? You weren't born during that period," I muttered. Rowan didn't answer. I looked at him for a while longer, then felt my expression pinch with confusion.

"You weren't around during my time," I said again, more clearly. Rowan still didn't say anything. Now he just stared across the room at me and I stared back. I was trying to cope with what that silence meant. It couldn't be possible. I'd pick up on it. I'd know. I'd recognize him. There weren't many of us during that time and we all knew one another. There was no way Rowan could've gotten by without my knowing.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked, taking a step forward. Alaric took my arm to keep me from doing anything physical, and frankly he didn't have to. Even I knew that beating the shit out of Rowan wasn't going to give me an answer. Simon was eyeing Rowan out the corner of his eye, his arms folded over his chest.

"Damn," he commented, "So you're an old guy too then. Like, really old."

"I never said I was or wasn't," Rowan answered coolly. I looked at Rowan, who looked back at me. There was something so familiar about him, but I'd passed it off as simply the fact that we somehow ended up good friends. Even though we just met, it'd felt like we'd known each other for years. And apparently, we literally knew each other for years. Eons, apparently. And yet, I couldn't put my finger on what made him so familiar.

But I knew someone who would recognize him right on the spot.

"Fine," I stated, "Can't believe I'm saying this, but time to visit Xiphrus." Alaric raised an eyebrow. Rowan didn't agree or deny the offer. But there was something about the way his eyes seemed to narrow for a split second, seem to implode with anxiety, that told me things were about to get sticky. And yet, he didn't offer to stay put or anything, just inclined his head after a moment of silence. Simon shrugged and looked back at me.

I came into the center of the room and held my hand out. Alaric took my hand, followed by Simon, then Rowan laid his hand out on top. Together as one, we teleported from my house in Hell to Xiphrus's in Heaven. Once upon a time, the guy lived in Atlantis as Hannibal's private guard, but since he'd hooked up with Michael, he'd moved in with him and the two lived in a quaint little neighborhood in Heaven.

It looked totally out of whack for all of us, decked out in fighting clothes, to appear on the street among cute cottage style houses with flower beds and children playing with puppies. Everything was so flowery and warm, the sunlight a buttery glow instead of an intense shine. The house Xiphrus and Michael lived in was a small two story Tudor style with a door painted bright green.

I let Alaric lead the way, because I still didn't want to be that close to Xiphrus. Especially now. In fact, the moment we approached the door, my anxiety decided to rev its filthy engine and drive adrenaline through my system. My lungs clenched tight, expanded hard, clenched tight, expanded hard. I was a combination of wanting to get behind Alaric and wanting to put him behind me to protect him. Instead, I forced myself to stand perfectly still.

Logically I knew Xiphrus wasn't going to just attack out of the blue, and especially not Alaric since the guys were apparently best buds now or some shit. But there was the roaring rear that maybe, just maybe, Xiphrus would decide the beast needed some exercise.

Alaric knocked, but it sounded like someone banging on a gong inside my head. My chest started to hurt, like I was breathing too hard. But when I glanced at everyone around me, they seemed calm and didn't appear to notice the panic attack that was starting to rear its ugly head. I slammed my eyes shut, pursing my lips.