seventeen.

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I was asleep when Ezra returned. I stirred from the familiar purring sounds of his Ducati bike and woke up when the mattress depressed under his weight.
I turned to him as he cuddled me close and blinked the sleep from eyes to see him.
He looked guarded. "What's the time?" I asked, wondering why he'd taken so long.
"Very late. Go back to sleep." clipped responses which were signs of his vexation.
I was awake now and I asked. "Tell me, you hate me for what I did today."
Ezra frowned in confusion as if he'd just heard a cockroach speak to him. "What? No, you're dreaming about Chris eating your lunch at Rita's."
I snorted. "That's the most ridiculous thing you could ever think I'd be dreaming about."
"No? Then what do you dream about? Me dancing around in a tutu?"
I smirked, "Close enough." And he chortled, I reached to touch his face, still bristled by the stubble.
"Ezra,"
He shut his eyes, drawing a deep frustrated breath against the crook my shoulder but muttered a response, kissing the cheek facing to him.
"We'll talk in the morning, okay. I'm exhausted." He murmured in drowsiness.

When I woke up, Ezra wasn't beside me. For a split second I panicked but then started hearing hammering and shuffling motion from somewhere in the house.
I found him putting up fixtures in the corridor of the house that led to his art studio.
He must've been working for hours as I could tell he'd made considerable progress panelling the walls.
He hadn't exactly gotten good sleep when he came in early this morning.
From that I guessed, something weighed heavily on his mind. Most likely what had transpired with his father.
The air was dank with varnish chemicals and adhesive, the ground littered with sawdust and wood shavings.
I watched him for a few minutes, unaware of my presence and intently fixed on the task, and what a sight for sore eyes he was to ogle.
He wore corduroy blue dungarees, with goggles and gloves. His bare arms and chest held a sheen of sweat which trapped sawdust to his skin.
I didn't want to break his concentration so I went back to put on a pair of sweatpants before I went down to do the bodywork regimen which Fiona had doctored on me.
But I'd brought Angurvadal out with me and after a few short hours, I practiced some blade work.
Mostly because I was still surprised I had beaten Aristyl and a sense of daunting hubris was growing from that achievement.
"Aren't you supposed to have a partner for that to be worthwhile?"
I panted and dropped the hand holding the sword. I blinked hack sweat dripping down my forehead to look at him.
He smiled coyly at me as he pulled at the gloves to free his hands.
"Morning." I swallowed a breath and stabbed the black sword into the ground. "I didn't want to disturb you, seems you were busy with your thoughts."
Ezra pocketed the gloves and scratched at his forehead before drawing closer. "That and trying to get some work done."
"I could help, you know." I grinned at him.
He raised a brow. "Help me finish building a house? Have you ever held a hammer before?"
He was amused, taking my hands into his dusty large ones.
I shrugged nonchalantly, "Can't be as hard as holding a sword? If you're letting me stay here, I should help around."
He jerked me forward with his hold on me and enveloped me into a hug from where he stared down meaningfully.
"I'm not letting you. Senoy I want you to live here with me. I want you to want to live with me."
I watched him cautiously. "Are you sure, Ezra? I mean with what that would mean for you...for your family, the Legion?"
I realized I was pushing for what had happened after I'd left the Manor yesterday. What he'd meant by he and his father had fought.
And he knew that too because he sighed and shook his head as if trying to shake off the memory.
"I can't talk with an empty stomach. We should clean up, we'll eat at Rita's."
We took a shower together and drove to the cafe a street away from Redwood High.
It was only when I came through the door and caught the offensive glares and scowled directed at me did I realize how bad the morning could get.
Rita's Bakery was owned by a family of witches, and not doubt bled me for all that had befallen the Redwood covens.
Ezra must've noticed as well because he threw an arm over my shoulders,  drawing me close and glowering back at the customers in a daring threatening way.
Before we found a table, we were met by the familiar stout plump man with balding head.
Albert. The owner of Rita's Bakery and he looked almost as uncomfortable as I felt on entering here.
He looked from Ezra to me, his kind grey eyes softening on my face before he spoke to Ezra.
"I'm sorry but I don't want no trouble today."
I frowned not understanding what he means, "Of course we're not looking for trouble, Albert. Just a table."
But he ignored me, staring at Ezra which was a weird feeling because Albert and his niece Caroline were the few witches- well the only ones I was completely friendly with.
"The covens have shunned Senoy of the Fey. No establishment owned by a witch should open its doors to him nor interact in any way with him."
My mouth fell open for a moment but then I straightened and bore a smile at the kind old man.
It was clear he didn't like what he was doing but he had to abide by the laws of his coven.
Ezra looked piqued but I spoke up already turning the both of us towards the door.
"It's fine. We can go somewhere else." Causing a scene would only be making things harder for Albert.
"This is bullshit." Ezra cursed, fists clenched and feet stomping to the sidewalks where the bike parked.
"Ezra, it was expected. I did say they should have nothing to do with me."
He snorted, he is pissed no doubt. "So now you're a pariah because you saved them?"
I smirked, "Because I killed my brother." I reached him and took his hand into mine.
"Come on, this gives you the chance to take me to the French Quarter like you said you wanted.
Ezra arched a brow, folding his arms across his chest and looking incredibly sexy.
"Senoy, are you suggesting we ditch school?"
"School, schmool." I shrugged casually and added. "I want a full free day with you."
He broadly smiled and started for the bike but I stopped him and made a gimme gesture with my hand, he looked confused.
"Only condition is, I want to drive." I grinned.
Ezra blanched to my amusement. "What? Hell no!" He blinks with wide eyes.
I rolled my eyes, already expecting his adamance. "Ezra, I passed driver's ed."
He pursed a face at him like that mattered. "Driving a car isn't the same."
"What's the worse that could happen? We crash, we'll heal right back up."
"Like I'm worried about us. My fucking bike would be totaled."
But Ezra sighed, shoving his keys out of his pockets and pressed into my hand as he mumbled disgruntingly.
"Crazy Fey boyfriend of mine." to which I chuckled and mounted the front of the sleek death machine.
"Holy shit, slow down a bit!" He yelled into my ear as I hit the freeway leading towards New Orleans.
I revved the beauty of a bike, loving the purr of engine as I rode.
I laughed into the wind and I could feel Ezra smiling behind me despite his comments on my driving.
"I've always wanted to ride one of these."
When we got into the city, Ezra directed me towards a restaurant he suggested we eat at.
It was a demure casual setting with an entire glass wall. The smell of decadent spices and grill wafted through from behind swivel white doors leading to the kitchen.
The restaurant was sparsely filled with a few customers. Most looked like corporate lawyers in tailored suits, a few students with laptops and sipping coffee.
A brunette young woman of same age as Fleur, stunning even in white waitress top and black apron, came to us as we sat down.
She beamed with a slight flush of color in her cheeks as she saw Ezra.
"Ezra hi, it's been a while. You just up and forgot the rest of us over at your kingdom." She pouted, her southern drawl a thick honey.
I arched a brow. They know each other? Ezra smiled cheekily at her.
"Of course not Greta. We've all been strung thin."
And Greta's face withered of her smile to a worried expression.
Was she seriously going to continue the conversation like she doesn't have a job to do?
"Heard about them murders even out here. And the earthquakes... Hope you're good and how's that butterfly girl of yours. What's her name, Carla...Cheryl? Haven't seen her around."
Ezra stiffened suddenly and I blanched on realizing whom she was referring to.
Celia. The girlfriend he murdered. Did he eat here with her...why the fuck would he bring me here?
I was on my feet the next instant and walking out of the restaurant.
Maybe I was overreacting but I didn't stop when I heard him call after me.
Ezra grabbed my arm and pulled me to a stop. "Senoy, what's wrong? Why did you leave like that, it was rude?"
I gaped at him. "Rude? I came to have something to eat not have some chic blatantly flirt with you in my face. And what the fuck, Ezra, you brought me to a place you brought the ex you-"
He glowered a silence from me. "I told you that in confidence. And don't make it sound like I'm some psychopathic killer."
"I'm not. I'm just confused and hungry-pissed."
"You forgot jealous."
I narrowed at him. "Are you trying to be funny?"
He bit his lip to keep from laughing, eyes shining with mirth. "Fuck you, Ezra Khan."
He kept me from turning away and spoke. "I only brought Celia here twice. She made an impression on Greta, who is like a sister to me. My mother and her father were adopted siblings."
"And she's got a crush on you still."
To that he scoffed. "Just like you did. Only difference is, it's you I love."
My mouth dropped in surprise. "What're you talking about, being my crush?"
Ezra beamed like he'd won the fucking lottery. "Toby might have let it slip one time."
I'm going to kill that motherfucker.
"Don't feel so good about it, Khan. I had crushes upon and down Redwood. Not to mention the Moors."
That wiped the smug look on his face. "Are you trying to be funny?" He threw back.
"Look I just want to eat something and then you can tell me what happened last night."
"Then let's go back in. I'm sorry if bringing you here was stupid of me but I swear this place has the best omelette."
And of course he was right. The omelette was divine and resplendent in mushrooms, cheese and what seemed to be clover.
After I'd had my fill, Ezra hadn't because he had an appetite for the entire continent, I made him talk.
"You scared the shit out of everybody. My father was livid, he...he tried compelling me to stay away from you."
That bad huh?
"Did it work?"
He snorted and gave me an obvious look as he said. "I'm here, aren't I? We had a fight, I had to stay longer to make him understand that he can't keep us apart so much as he'd like tearing me in half. It didn't make any headway, it was infuriating that I sort of exiled myself."
Ice flowed into my body. "What do you mean?" God I hope it isn't what I think.
Ezra chewed on the bacon and slice of omelette for a while before he answered, raising his face to mine.
"I made it clear that I'd rather give up my birthright than stay any distance from you."
"Oh Ezra, no." I dropped my face into my hands, resting my elbows on the table.
"You can't...Ezra they're your family. The Legion is your home, how do you think this makes me feel?"
He cocked his head like it was a ridiculous question.
"That I don't give a fuck about all that legacy shit. I love you and nothing...not even the Saints will keep me from you."
He reached across the table and took my hand, deep resolve shining in his eyes.
"It'll only make them hate me more. I can't have both the Legion and the covens against me. Not without protection of my own."
"My father knows better than to try and do anything to you. He's angry with me and the outcome of yesterday but I think he's scared of you."
Ezra sipped from his glass of juice as I gaped at him. What?
"That's ridiculous. Eleazar Khan isn't scared of anything, much less me."
Ezra snorted out a laugh as he chewed. "Oh he's scared alright. If not he'd have you brought to a trial for killing Jean as the covens expect. You scared me too, for a moment. It was like last time...but worse."
I remembered the absolute dread that had sparked in his eyes that day at school after what happened with Paul and Benny.
"But I guess, it's the same as me having to rip out Johann's throat if you hadn't survived."
"What I did yesterday was mind torture, much worse. It broke something in him, seeing his firstborn son dead because of his wrong choice. He won't forget yesterday...what I took from him." I muttered.
"Nor should he forget he brought it on himself for the way he's treated you for years."
I veered back to the main point. "Still, you cannot choose me over the Legion."
His face seized in a scowl. "Yes I can. My father's the one making me choose."
I sighed out. "You're both just stubborn. Just talk it out with him."
Ezra shook his head as he finally stopped eating, taking a napkin to his mouth.
"This way he'll know I'm serious. If I go back, he'll think he's won and have leverage or something. Besides I get to finish the house in the meantime."
Guilt was still as chilling as an icicle in my mind. I didn't want to be the wedge between him and his family.
"Is it because I'm a guy?"
Ezra raised a brow but shook his head.
"You're not exactly the first guy I've been with, remember? It's because you're Fey well half more than he likes. He's always been wary of the Court for some reason."
Hmm.
Wanting to distract me, Ezra asked me. "I saw some of the stuff about the murders when I came in last night. Did you find something new?"
"Just that the killer is Fey. Aristyl told me."
His silence made me suspicious and I watched him slip into a guarded composure as if he didn't want to reveal much.
Which meant he knew something. "What? Do you know something I don't?"
"I think it'd be better if I showed you. Unless you're still interested in that whole free day with me." He gave an endearing lopsided smile.
"Fine then later." I started to bring out some money from my pocket to pay for the meal.
"The fuck you doing?" And he yanked the bill from the table before I could slip the notes in.
"Paying for breakfast."
"Not in my restaurant, you aren't." His mischievous smirk told me a lot in such few words.
"Your restaurant?" I sputtered.
Ezra nodded. "It's been in my mother's family for generations. She left it to me when she died though I couldn't do much with it till I was of age."
"You never told me this."
He quirked his eyebrows. "There's still a lot to know about each other, babe. Which is the purpose for this date."
I gasped and watched him wave Greta back to us. Date with Ezra.
She sauntered over with a cautious smile due to my earlier reaction to her and the restaurant. And now knowing Ezra was sort of her boss, I figured sue didn't want to upset him.
Odd.
"It'll be on the house, thanks Greta. And tell Chuck, the food is even better." He flashed a smile which does it credit in pulling a blush from her.
Ezra stood and offered a hand to me which I took to head out into the most vibrant city in the south.
The French Quarter or as the locals fancied calling it Vieux Carré was the most decadent and oldest neighborhood in New Orleans.
Most of the families and architecture were relics of the earlier French settlers in early 1700s. Though natural fusiliers over the years had demolished nearly all the French influence.
All this I learnt from History class as well as the classic novels.
Here all the folktales and legends were saturated in modern day lifestyles.
Ezra took me to a galleria which featured most of the earliest arts of the south. Much of it based in Creole, Haitian and Spanish cultures.
We joined a tour group and joked about what the humans insinuated about the supernatural society which they made the wide eyed tourists believe.
He took me to St. Ann Cathedral which was where he'd been baptised and confirmed because his mother had been raised by a staunch Catholic priest/uncle who was consequently a Hound.
"It didn't seem to matter that it was entirely contradictory." Ezra had smirked saying.
I always caught the conflicted gleam in his eyes whenever he brought up his mother and I wondered if he had haphazard feelings toward her.
It had been scandalous but not sympathetic news, years ago, in the Agnate about her death.
Scandalous in the sense that a few of the Agnate believed Eleazar had killed her so he could marry his true love and mistress, Fiona.
The latter because Vivien Khan hadn't been liked by the few who even knew her.
"You don't seem to like talking about her."
Ezra shrugged, one hand squeezing mine slightly while the other was hidden in the pocket of his jacket.
A mild serious look came over him as the wheels of recollection rolled behind his eyes.
"She wasn't a terrible person like they say she was. But she had serious psychological faults which my father likes to overexaggerate to insanity."
I just nodded as we strolled down Royal Street and made it into Faubourg Marigny.
Here the stats of African and coloured people demographic was staggering.
Lines of stores, apartment buildings and a few cafés were owned by them. So close to Jackson Square and Jazz Corner that it would usually food by nightfall.
"She kidnapped me once." Ezra hashed out as we stood a moment with a small crowd watching a group of artists paint with a playing violinist.
I looked at him in surprise. I hadn't known that.
"How old were you?"
"Barely older than Joshua and Ephraim. My father just started cheating on her with Fiona and she got so paranoid that she picked me up from school one day which was unusual because my Dad or Aunt Lucie did that."
His eyes were fixed straight ahead but I doubted he was admiring the landscape work of the artists.
"I remember trying to find Oreos in her bag, she always had some, in the car. She said things about not wanting to be separated from me...that my father would turn me against her. We barely got past state lines when a few of the Legion caught up. My father sequestered her to a cabin on constant watch and away from me. She got better after a while and Dad stopped seeing Fiona to give her peace of mind. I was thirteen when she slipped back, this time triggered by my betrothal to Margot."
"And that's the time you met Celia?"
"Give a few months, at first it was to please her and calm her. I didn't want her to hurt herself and I liked spending time with her, much to my father's dismay. But then she died and I was grief-stricken and overwhelmed with rage because I blamed my father and his cheating ass. I blamed her, I blamed myself. But Celia...well you know the rest."
I breathed in heavily, feeling the strong emotions of pity and love for him rise with the violinist's staccato.
"I guess we're both damaged."
Ezra chuckled lightly. "Perfectly made for each other."
To lighten the mood, "What's your favorite music?" He asked, no doubt noticing my intent attention on the violinist.
I shrugged, "Don't have much of music taste. But I loved listening to Aunt Hetta's Russian classical opera like Tchaikovsky, Rachmanioff and Shostakovich. I used to hide in the greenhouse where she spent most of her time, both to hide from Jean and his gang and for the music."
Ezra gaped at me like I'd just said I was born on Uranus. It made me uncomfortable.
"What! So you know nothing of pop- Coldplay...The Weeknd or Bon Jovi?"
I rolled my eyes at the absurdity. "Of course I know who they are. Just not hooked on them."
"Who the fuck doesn't get hooked on Queen or Lady Gaga?"
I burst out laughing as we moved on from the talent show. "You listen to her?"
Ezra gave me a death serious look which killed the laugh in my throat but then he started singing to my shock and chagrin.
"I want your love cause only love has revenge, you and me gonna have a bad romance."
I instantly clapped a hand over his mouth to cut off the song and stop the stares we were receiving from amused passers-by.
"Oh my God!" I stifled an embarassed flush as he laughed into my hand.
Ezra pulled my hand away and spun me around to face him, arms around my back.
He was smiling with boyish charm. "You sounded like a strangled pig." I goaded with a smile.
"Wait till you hear me go all MJ on you."
"That I'd like to see." I chuckled.
We had lunch at a place called Nouveau Eve and spent the hours exchanging favorites and dislikes.
I discovered he was a huge fan of Doctor Who and X-files but was objective about most of Shakespeare.
I knew he was smart but I just suspected he studied for school.
But he was well read; Edgar Allan Poe being his best poet, Homer and Ovid his authors, and he loved his jazz best of all because his mother used to be a show singer here in the Quarter.
" 'And we loved with a love greater than love.'" He quoted in a loving caress of his hand on my face.

Folks Of Fury (#1; Tales Of Elysia [COMPLETED])Tempat cerita menjadi hidup. Temukan sekarang