"I don't understand," Tom said. Though really, he wasn't sure he wanted to in fear of jumping to the wrong conclusions. "What's that got to do with Ezra?"
"Everything."
"Why are you being so cryptic?"
"Because it is his story to tell, not mine."
"But you're a part of it. He said you condemned him to be a soul stripper." Tom never imagined that he would talk to an angel so bluntly.
"Yes. That I am guilty of."
"While Ezra's innocent?"
They stared at each other. Tom felt the angel's power, yet he didn't shrink. "I suggest you go and speak to your soul stripper," Othrowan said. "Because that is what he is now, and who he will remain for the rest of his life." He got up, and Tom did too. But all he did was watch him leave.
Tom's attention dropped to the book, and questions churned in his mind. He had to ask Ezra to explain his past. But maybe it was too delicate for him to talk about. Though how would Tom find out what really happened?
He cursed himself for not asking Othrowan, but would Ezra have been angry at him for turning to the person who had condemned him?
He sighed and sat back down. What was the angel trying to say? Ezra was a demon, how he felt and how he looked made that plainly obvious. He had a demon mark, he made those around him uneasy because of his demon aura. He had a short fuse, and Tom had seen him take souls with his own eyes.
Though he wasn't exactly like other demons either. He was calmer, and better at holding down his anger. He was shy and anxious like he was terrified of being judged. Other demons didn't like him, and Ezra didn't like himself.
I can't make assumptions like this.
Tom left the library and got two coffees from a small van parked at the base of a hill. He hiked until he was out of breath and hot under his windproof jacket. His cheeks burned red against pale skin. Brown hair ruffled in the wind. Tom scanned the area and sat down once he knew he was alone.
"Ezrakhell," he said quietly. No more than three heartbeats past before someone sat on the same bench. "Hi," Tom said with a smile, handing him a coffee.
"Morning," Ezra murmured, looking down at him with large curious eyes.
"How was your night of wandering?"
"Long."
"Where did you go?"
"To a beach on the east coast. Humans can't get to it without risking their lives."
"So naturally, it's one of your favourite places?"
"Yes."
Tom chuckled and sipped his drink. "So, um . . . I ran into that angel at the library this morning. Othrowan, is that his name?"
Ezra nodded.
"I was reading a book about demons when he approached me." Ezra was still staring down at him. Tom had to look away. "I asked him why the angels don't summon you, and he said that angels can't summon other angels." He waited for Ezra to say something, but he didn't even open his mouth to offer an explanation. "Please tell me if you can't or don't want to speak about this."
Ezra sipped his coffee, moving his attention to the beautiful view of the world beyond. "What did you say to him after?"
"I asked what that had to do with you."
"And?"
"He said everything."
Ezra sighed, blinking slowly as if the subject had drained him dry. "Othrowan has always enjoyed being confusing to appear wise."
"Ezra," Tom said softly, touching his leg. "What did he mean by it?"
"He meant what he said." Ezra studied Tom's hand on his thigh. "Angels can't summon other angels."
"But you're a demon."
"I was born an angel."
Tom inhaled sharply at the same time a gust of wind chopped at his skin. "What happened?"
"In the year nineteen seventeen, I was almost eleven, but I had been alive for more than a hundred years already." Ezra paused until Tom nodded. "There was a cricket match not far from Wileshire village, and because we were still in the middle of the great war, the match was guarded because humans of high status were there. My job was to walk the outskirts of the grounds and make sure all was well, until I heard screaming. It was the type of scream that someone made when they feared for their life. I ran from the match and two people were on the dirt road in a pool of their own blood. One was dead and the other was dying. The game of cricket had finished and the crowds poured onto the road as the woman pointed at me, and said that an angel had attacked her. She died, and there was uproar. For weeks, humans rioted. They thought I had done this awful crime because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Humans didn't want to hear what I had to say, they only cared that they couldn't trust the angels anymore. The murders made national papers. Riots were happening all over the country and people were losing faith that there was any good in the world at all. Other angels knew I was innocent, but I was condemned anyway to keep the peace. When humans saw that angels could also be punished, they calmed down, and I had to deal with . . . this." He touched his neck, and a tear travelled down his cheek. "Othrowan knew I was innocent. I begged for him to help me figure out who had killed those poor women. The angels only cared about the power they had on the people. I was disposable because I was so young."
Ezra quickly wiped away his tear, blinking until they dried up. Tom only noticed he was crying too when Ezra reached over to dry his cheek. "It's sad, and cruel, but nothing could have been done. Back then, hundreds of witnesses saying that they saw the woman accuse me was more than enough. They women had been butchered by a knife yet there was no murder weapon anywhere. Still, once the public made their mind up, that was it for me," Ezra mumbled. "I've lived half of my life as an angel, and half as a demon. Though my own soul still feels like a stranger in this body. I'm not meant to be this person. I feel that most when we're together."
"You do?" Tom asked, forcing himself to speak. Ezra didn't need his pity, despite it pooling in his heart, weighing him down.
"You're a beautiful person. My soul was beautiful once too. So when I say that you deserve someone better, I mourn that better part of myself. I used to think I could still feel myself in there somewhere, but as time went on, I started to feel lost. When I'm with you, sometimes I don't feel so lost anymore."
"Oh Ezra." Tom cried and hugged him, until they were both crying into each other's shoulders. "But you are beautiful," he whispered through a quivering lip. "I see it."
Ezra clung to him like Tom was what helped him to stay alive.
Tom rocked him and soothed him until he stopped crying. Ezra, with his head on his shoulder, stared emptily at the view from the hilltop. The sun warmed and the wind died down. Their coffees turned cold, and sometimes a hiker marched past with walking sticks and sturdy boots.
Nobody noticed them, and Tom wouldn't have cared if they did.
"I've not cried like that in a very long time."
"Do you feel better for it?"
"I have a headache."
Tom smiled, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. "Seems to me like you needed to let that out. Thank you for telling me what happened. I know that must have been hard."
"Every day I try not to think about it."
Tom kissed him on his cheek and rubbed the back of his neck until any evidence of a breakdown faded away. "So, do you still age like an angel?"
"Yes, one year every ten human years."
"Wow. I'll be winning the jackpot when I'm old and wrinkly, and dating someone not even in their thirties."
Ezra's face softened. "I wish we could grow old together."
"Our souls can, and that's enough, isn't it?"
"Yes."
They kissed and connected foreheads, but Tom still had questions. "Is this why other demons don't like you?"
"I'm not truly one of them. I never will be, but I still care about how horribly they're treated."
Tom nodded against him. "When did you leave Wileshire village? Was it soon after you were punished?"
"I tried to stay, but then the accident happened where the angel's place of worship was destroyed, and that little girl was crushed on the fountain. She was the daughter of one of the murdered women. I left before they found a way to blame me for that too."
Tom rubbed his back. "What's the real reason you returned to Wileshire village?"
Birds chirping, leaves rusting, and distant cars fell between them. "It happened to another angel. She was recently turned into a soul stripper. She said she was innocent and they still punished her to keep the peace. I'm not sure if she's innocent or not, there's nothing about the crime anywhere."
"How did you hear about it?"
"Demons like gossip."
"And you think the angels are covering it up?"
"Yes. It happened in the same county. But I can't find the victim anywhere. She disappeared like I did."
"Why don't we question Othrowan? Or will he speak in riddles?"
"I can't even stand to look at him. I wouldn't be able to question him."
"Do you think this is linked to the rise in violence?"
"I don't see how it can be."
Tom couldn't either. "Well, something is going on."
Ezra agreed, but he was done talking. He kissed Tom softly. Tenderly holding him close. They kissed until their hearts were full, and until the rain started.
Tom put his hood up, smiling at Ezra who suddenly looked very tired. "You didn't sleep at all last night, did you?" Ezra shook his head to say no, so Tom held out his hand. He pulled him down the hill, not letting go when they reached the village. They ran together down the street and through the rain.
Nobody noticed them because they had their own hoods up against the wind, watching where they stepped.
Tom let his hood blow down and stomped with him in all the puddles until they reached the pub, soaked and out of breath. The main doors were still locked, so they went through the back to hang their coats up to try.
Tom gave him a pair of shorts and a t-shirt that was loose on him, though would be tight around Ezra's broad chest and shoulders. "Wear these while I dry your clothes in the tumble dryer. Have a shower, and go to sleep in my bed. I'll wake you when we need you to start your shift."
Ezra grabbed Tom's arm before he could hurry downstairs to help his parents. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Instead, he kissed Tom on his forehead, an unspoken gesture of his gratitude.