Chapter Twelve
"You didn't find them anywhere?"
I sat at the table in the kitchen as Rowan sat across from me with a mug of coffee and this morning's news paper pulled up on his tablet. Meanwhile, Simon was at the stove once again, making some gross heart healthy breakfast Rowan told me to eat or I'd have it funneled down my throat. Deciding not to piss him off anymore than I had yesterday with my creepy sex drive, I went with the heart healthy breakfast, even though it looked like goopy vomit in a bowl with fruity turds dropped on top of it. And let's not forget that whole grain toast that tasted more like tree bark, and some weird marmalade that tasted like the current black sludge in my veins.
"And I repeat to you, no," Rowan answered me without looking up from his tablet, "The books were nowhere to be found."
"How much you wanna bet they're at Xiphrus's place?" Simon asked with a smirk as he smeared cannabutter on my toast. Oh, and along with my new diet of heart healthy bullshit, I had to have a daily dose of marijuana to keep my mood swings in check and my panic attacks at bay. For once in my life, I wasn't waking up with sleep paralysis and screaming in the middle of the night. So I guess one good thing was happening.
"I fucking hope not," I muttered, taking a swallow of the weird ass tea Rowan was forcing me to drink because caffeine apparently only made my mood swings worse as well as the panic attacks. It tasted like flowers and honey. So basically, like everything fluffy and cute and offended my very masculinity.
And then there was the fact that Rowan hadn't found the books in Zeus's palace, so my trip to Joxeia was all for naught. Kind of anyway. I was still pissed at him, mocking me to try and piss me off so he could get me talking honestly. But then, he did say he was different from other therapists. It was nice to finally snap, though, and get that shit out in the open. I had been pretty passive-aggressive with Joxeia. When I found out he was Lucifer's little pet, I'd pretended not to recognize him. When he appeared before me, I just did an "oh, nice to see you again, how's it going, oh that's nice, gotta go, dead people to take care of" kind of thing. And from there, I avoided him and when we ran into each other, I basically ignored him or focused on the task at hand.
Now Joxeia finally knew I hated his guts and probably always would. So that was some progress for ya.
Too bad Joxeia now also knew I was infected and was probably gonna run around telling everyone so they could keep an eye on me or consider me an enemy. Which was going to make my job so much harder than it already was. As if being called out for catastrophes wasn't enough, now I was gonna have people gunning for me. And not just for gambling debts either.
Oh joy.
This probably meant Joxeia had told Xiphrus I was infected, which would make getting to him and snatching those books all the more impossible. And it was at that point I asked myself... why the fuck did I care? I wanted to know what Viviana was planning, sure. I was curious now. I had to know. At the same time, did I need to know? Not really. Life or death? Well, not for me apparently.
Now getting a hold of the books was more of a personal thing to satisfy the curiosity eating away at me. And I needed something to do now that I was single, bored, and living in a house with two other dudes who were batting for the other team.
Romantically in Rowan's case. Last night I'd confirmed that Rowan kind of had a thing for me, but typical Rowan. Brushed it off like it was none of his business, told me I needed to go back to Alaric, and to take care of my heart. For a guy who was supposed to be on the enemy's side, he was awfully nice and caring. Even Simon drew a line between us.
"I love you like a brother," Simon had told me earlier, "But if you start waltzing up in here in your underwear, I'm gonna love you like a sister, you feel me, man?" Oh yeah. I got the message alright. Deciding I enjoyed my genitalia where it belonged and not in the frying pan with Rowan's eggs, I kept my pants on for my own safety.
"So what's your evil plan for today," Rowan asked as Simon sat down with us, handing us our breakfasts, "Aside from giving me the stink eye for regulating your diet." I still glared at him for the gross bowl of diaper leftovers Simon had whipped up.
"I'm immortal. I can't die."
"No, but it'll be a very painful, very irritating and uncomfortable, immortal life."
"Ugh," I grunted and dug into breakfast, and while it looked like garbage, Simon managed to make it taste halfway decent, so I ate a few mouthfuls before answering Rowan's earlier question, "I still need to get a hold of those books. Just trying to figure out how I'm going to avoid running into Xiphrus. If you thought my run in with Jo was bad, you'll have to see me when he's around." Simon gave me a droll look, then turned to Rowan, who raised an eyebrow.
"I've been with them. They're both irritating as hell. Stanton with his bitching, Xiphrus with his passive-aggressive parenting. It's precious."
"Fuck you," I deadpanned, making Simon smirk as he went to work on his bacon, and I reached over to snatch one, but he and Rowan both slapped my hand at the same time and I hissed, retracting my hand to rub it, "Ow, hey, watch it. I'm a heart patient over here. You can't go around hitting us."
"No, an eighty-five-year-old man in the hospital is a heart patient," Simon answered dryly, "You're just a juvenile delinquent with a heart problem. Speaking of heart problem, shouldn't you be trying to patch things up with your hubs?" I didn't answer that, just stuffed a spoonful of oatmeal mush in my mouth instead.
My phone had pinged earlier and I'd gotten a text from Alaric. Nothing sweet and romantic and begging me to come back. Just...
Come get your shit.
Yeah. I guess it was final. Things were over between us. No matter what Rowan or Simon said. Alaric had given up, and while there was still this urge inside me to run back to him, I resisted. Alaric didn't need me before and he didn't need me now, especially not now with this infection spreading through my veins. And I was only more of a pain in the ass now that I had to watch my diet, add a little sprinkle of mary jane to my meals. And that was all on top of the daddy issues and the fact that I was just too afraid to discuss anything with Alaric.
I didn't want to tell him I didn't want to have kids. What if he really wanted them? What if he had everything already planned and was ready to do it right when I said I might be okay with it? That'd be too much for me. And I didn't want to have kids like me. Kids that were fucked up in the head and had nightmares. And if I had a kid who was afraid of me... I wouldn't be able to do it.
Maybe I could do a dog... a hellhound. If he took care of it. And cuddled it. Because I wouldn't be able to do it. It would die on me.
No white picket fences.
Okay, maybe a wooden fence.
Wait, what the hell was I doing? Was that me caving in just to keep Alaric?
Yes.
No. This time it was different. This time, Alaric would be taking back an emotional basket case, who still had fucking daddy issues and a heart condition that would make grocery shopping a living hell. Part of me wanted to laugh, because come on. Alaric wouldn't bitch about extra grocery shopping. He wouldn't mind compromising about dogs and fences. I just didn't want to be a burden. I didn't want to be his poor husband who had health issues and needed to get with the family thing. Because if there was one thing I couldn't compromise, it was a family, and that was what Alaric valued the most. And I couldn't stand the thought of him being anywhere near Xiphrus, and knowing he went behind my back and did it anyway was infuriating.
Gods, forget it. No.
I was just going to go over there, pick up my shit, bring it back here, then figure out where the books were. Snatch 'em. Read 'em. Then find a new fixation. Maybe Viviana if the books revealed something bad enough. Like, I don't know, world domination or something.
Good on you, Stanton. Staying focused like this. Someone give this ADHD reaper a cookie.
A heart healthy cookie.
"Alright," I said, pushing myself back out of my seat and getting up, "I'm gonna head out for a little errand. I'm done eating. Can I go now, mom?" I looked at Rowan, who looked at me in the way a mother would definitely look at her smart mouthed child. A combination of seriously and I swear to god I'm going to spank you-- whoa, that was not an image I needed right now. Ew. Not okay. I cleared my throat and decided to just leave before I said anything or thought anything awkward. Thankfully, neither Simon or Rowan jumped up after me and let me go on their own. They probably had their own evil plot for the day.
As soon as I was out of the house, I teleported from Styx back to Hell. A beautiful warm day in Hell with a bright shining sun, clear blue skies, only a soft breeze that blew the hair back from my face as I stood at the end of the walkway that led up to the front of the house I used to call my home. A quaint two story craftsman with blue shingle siding and brown accents from the windows and front door, dark stonework making up the foundation and the chimney in the living room. Our lawn was neatly trimmed and a faded flagstone path led the way to the steps onto the front porch, to the large wooden door.
On the other side, a short foyer with arches going off to the kitchen and the living room. From the front door, you could see most of the house. You could see the open living room with a pair of french doors that led into the office, and in the office was an archway that led into the laundry room, where another pair of french doors opened up onto the back porch. On the back porch were a couple of cheap loungers and a glass coffee table where Alaric kept his ashtray stocked with smushed cigarette butts.
Upstairs, there was a single guest room and our bedroom. Our bedroom that smelled like my cologne, like Alaric, like warmth. Our dresser, my drawers stuffed with black everything, and his stuffed with a variety of lacy lingerie. In the closet, my jackets and coats hung like black shadows from the rack and Alaric's were sedate in shades of green, cream, black, gray. Our bed, made big enough for us to roll around and get to business. His nightstand had a small modern lamp and an ashtray of cigarette remains. Mine had the hideous lamp he hated so much.
We bought the house when I'd proposed. Alaric thought it was best to move out of Lucifer's place and together with me. It was his first step toward adulthood, as he called it. We picked it out among all the others because something about the house spoke to us. Something about it said this is your home. It was cozy. It was warm. It was safe. It was familiar. Even though it was part of a fancy community with its own neighborhood committee and rules, we weren't going to pass it up. We needed the house. It was part of us. It was where we went to spend time together.
And now I was never going to see it again. It felt somehow haunting. Like it was just part of a nightmare that I was going to wake up from any minute. Except as I made my way down the worn flagstone path, my heavy boots thumping as I walked, I knew the nightmare was never going to be over. It was only beginning.
I stepped up onto the porch and started to reach for the door handle, then stopped. This wasn't my home anymore, I reminded myself. So I knocked, and it felt so weird, so fucking wrong, to knock on my own door. I waited a good couple minutes, because knowing Alaric, it would take him a while to get to the door.
And when the door opened and Alaric stood in the doorway, it took every ounce of control I had not to grab him in my arms. He looked so beautiful, but so fucking tired, so fucking destroyed. His white hair was pulled back from his face with a little blue barrette, his hazel eyes shadowed underneath like sleeping was impossible. And goddamn it, he was wearing one of my shirts. A black v-neck with bleach stains on it from when we were cleaning the bathroom together and I'd spilled it on myself.
"Stanton." I had to close my eyes for a moment when he said my name. It was like heaven. In a world full of screams and wails and crying, his voice was like an angel's. He pronounced his Ts so clearly, his breath hitching like he was trying to control himself.
No, this was just too hard. I could feel the weight settling in my bones. The pain, the sorrow, building up inside me until I wanted nothing more than to start bawling like a fucking baby and throw myself at him. I needed him, needed to feel him in my arms again, needed to hear him say my name again. I wanted him to do that thing he did when he ran his fingers through my hair, then stroked my arm, then lingered at my neck, petting me like I was precious to him. I wanted to have him lay on my arm, cradled against me, even if it made my arm fall asleep and prickle and tingle to the tips of my fingers.
Gods, this hurt. This hurt so much. It hurt infinitely worse than Xiphrus's betrayal. It hurt worse than standing there while my own creator's fangs sank into my skin, ripping with the intention to tear my fucking head off. It hurt worse than standing in front of Joxeia in tears, saying his name over and over again while he did nothing, but stare right through me as if I didn't exist. It hurt worse than watching Satanika turn her back on me and vanish from sight. It hurt worse than the pitying looks from the others as they gave up on our Paradise and left.
I couldn't take it. It hurt so much. It felt like my soul was being ripped out of my vessel, stomped on, smashed into the ground. It made me breath, my vision tilted and I felt like I was going to pass out.
"Stanton? Are you alright?" I blinked a little, focusing on Alaric in front of me as he stared up at me in concern, gripping the doorframe with one hand. He pressed his lips together tight for a moment, then ditched his own personal feelings about our meeting. He went into full on worried husband mode, when he should've just kicked me down the steps of the house and told me to fuck off. He took me by the arm and led me inside, and I couldn't find it in me to pull away. I let him lead me into the living room where I sat on the sofa, trying to catch my breath. Alaric stayed standing, looking at me like he waiting for signs of a heart attack or something. I cleared my throat after a while before looking up.
"My stuff," I said after a moment, and he frowned, "I came to pick up my stuff?" Alaric's eyes watered immediately, his lips working like he was trying to swallow back his emotions. He looked down quickly.
"Oh." That was all he said. Oh. He didn't elaborate, or move. He just stood there, looking down at the floor. He was crying. The tears overflowed those hazel eyes, streamed down his cheeks. I wanted to jump up and grab him and hold him tight. I wanted to smash my face through a fucking window for being the prick that made him cry. Instead, all I could manage was sitting there, staring up at him, feeling my eyes burn with unshed tears, as he sniffed. He gave his nose a pinch, then blinked rapidly and brushed the tears away.
"At least I can finally get rid of that ugly lamp," he said at last. I couldn't help it. I laughed. It was hard and quick, and it only brought my vision to a further blur. My throat and nose felt clogged. I could feel the sobs wanting to come up, but instead, I just fucking laughed. He laughed a little too. The sound was so sweet, but so helpless. He didn't want to let that stupid lamp go.
He's trying to figure out why you don't want him anymore. Rowan's words rang loud and clear in my head, as if Rowan himself were sitting beside me, but there was no telltale tingle of him being in the shadows around me. I just couldn't let his words go. And I couldn't let Alaric know without telling him the truth either.
"I lied," I said at last, blinking and looking back up at Alaric, who looked at me in confusion, "Before. About not needing you. That was a fucking lie. I don't need anyone or anything else in the world, but you. You're the only thing that I absolutely have to have in my life." Alaric's tears overflowed and he choked on a sob. I put my hand out and he took it, squeezing as I led him over to me until he was seated in my lap.
He wrapped his arms around me tightly and cried against my neck. I held onto him, closing my eyes tightly to keep any tears at bay. I didn't want to cry on him. I didn't want to look anymore pathetic than I already did. He pulled back and I reached up to take his face in my hands, wiping his cheeks.
"You're a real jerk, you know that," he sniffled, and I gave him a pained smile, because he was so right, "Do you have any idea how much you scared me? Why did you say all of that?" I lowered my eyes to his lips for a moment, brushing my thumb over his bottom lip before looking back up to meet his eyes.
"Because I'm so tired of people promising they're going to be there for me," I murmured, watching him open his mouth to argue, but I touched my finger to his lips, "I know. I know you're different. That's why I fucking love you so much. I just... I'm just so tired of not being good enough for anyone. And I'm not good enough for you, Ric."
"What are you talking about--"
"Look at me," I said, sitting back and taking his hands in mine, "I'm fucking Death. I have heart issues. I've had panic attacks every single night for as long as I can remember. I'm antisocial. I'm not a nice person. I don't want to have kids, kids that I could fuck up, and before you tell me I won't, I will. I'm already fucking up our relationship, and the relationship I have with what few people will even stand me. I can't have a dog because the idea of it dying on me and leaving me hurts. And I know you want this big happily ever after family where we all hold hands and sing kumbaya and shit, but I can't do that, Alaric. I can't. I can't forgive Xiphrus for what he did. He didn't just kill people I loved. He promised me he was going to be there for me. And I believed him. And he turned around and tried to kill me, not once, not twice, but several times. I went to Joxeia. Joxeia told me I could trust him, that he would be there for me, but when I needed him most, I didn't exist to him. I was nothing to him. He walked away from me. And so did everyone else. My idea of family is someone who makes empty promises and uses you and hurts you. I don't want a family, Alaric. I don't want or need any of that shit. I just need you. You're the only thing in my life that makes getting up in the morning worth it." Alaric's eyes watered up again and spilled over. I reached up to stop his tears and he let me.
He reached up after a moment, taking my hands in his, drawing them to his lips where he kissed them, and the feel of his soft lips kissing me so gently sent a shiver through me. He closed his eyes and kissed my hands again, then looked at me.
"Stanton, I don't love you because you think you have to be perfect. I love you because you're you. The only reason I brought up kids was because everyone else around me was having kids and I had never talked to you about it, and I wasn't sure if it was because you didn't want to have children with me, because of me, or if it had to do with your own personal trauma, and it does, and it hurts me to see you stop yourself from something that could be great for you, because you're still stuck in the past."
"Alaric--"
"My turn," Alaric said, touching my lips and I took his hand, pressing it against my face, savoring the warmth and softness of him before I peered up at him so he could continue, "And I see the way you look at the neighbor's dog. You want one. You've probably always wanted one. That's why I brought that up. But, Stanton, you can't let it stop you. A dog only lives twenty years at the most if they're mortal, but you're not getting a dog just for yourself. You're getting a dog for them too. You're giving them the best damn life they can have before they're gone. Just because something has a short life span doesn't mean they can't have a good life while it lasts. And yes, it's going to hurt so much when it dies, but it's because you loved them is why it hurts. It's okay to love and it's okay for it to hurt like that sometimes." Gods, he was so right. I'd felt that pain before, though, watching a loved one die and being powerless to help them. All the magic in the world could be at my disposal and there was only so much I could do with it.
And I was Death. I didn't create life. I took it.
And it wasn't fair.
"And I totally get why you don't forgive Xiphrus," Alaric continued, making me blink and look up at him, "You are your own person. I'm not going to force you to forgive someone. That's not my place. It's no one's, but yours. It's between you and him. But, baby, what scares me is how toxic it is for you. Because of this hatred you have for him, you can't move on. You can't get a dog, you can't talk about children, you can't feel good enough for me, because you're so stuck on hating him. That's what really hurts me. Seeing you suffer because you can't move on." I swallowed hard at that.
And here I thought he just wanted me to be friends with Xiphrus to fit his own idea of perfection. Everyone wanted me to make up with Xiphrus because it was good for them, not me. They just wanted to live in some fantasy world where killing everyone you loved, betraying them, was something you could get over, and maybe it was easier for some people. We lived for eternity. We had to learn to let some things go, but when those things affected your life like a poison, when it destroyed your very perception of life, that was when forgiveness was just too hard.
Xiphrus had done so much more than betray me and kill our family.
He destroyed my reality.
He'd led me to believe the world was a warm and safe and fluffy place. Completely perfect and innocent. Nothing bad could ever happen. And when it did, and when he was the cause of it, it was like someone had ripped the rug out from under me and I didn't know what to do anymore. I was lost in a world I no longer understood. Kindness, to me, was a mask for evil. For betrayal. For pain. I didn't know what trust was anymore. I didn't know what family meant. I associated it with war, brutality, wrath.
Jesus fuck, my entire life had been warped. I didn't know nearly as much as I thought I did. I couldn't just get over that. I couldn't just shrug it off and move on. Because I didn't know how. I just could not for the life of me comprehend this world everyone else lived in. What was real anymore?
"He hurt me," I said after a moment, my breath hitching. I looked up at Alaric, who pressed his lips together hard and nodded.
"He hurt me. He made me believe everything was okay. He made me think the world was safe, that everything was good. And he turned around and hurt me. He tore apart what I'd been led to believe... Alaric, he hurt me." Pain split my chest open wide, and everything in me burned. It felt like my very blood was being boiled to an unbelievable temperature, but instead of feeling angry, I just felt incredible pain. My eyes burned and I felt a knot in my throat the size of a golfball, and I reached up to rub at my face to keep myself from making a total ass out of myself, but Alaric caught my hands and I looked up at him.
"I know," Alaric said softly, his voice so gentle and so sweet, his hazel eyes not burning with pity or disgust, but empathy, "I know, Stanton." I felt the last of my strength get sucked out of me. I slumped forward, my head against Alaric's chest as a sob broke my throat, smashed down the barriers I'd made around myself to keep myself safe. Everything crumpled apart, except Alaric, who wrapped his arms around me tightly to keep me from falling away with everything else.
It wasn't fair. I'd trusted Xiphrus. I'd devoted myself completely to him. He was more than just my creator, more than my father, more than my mentor, he was my entire world. He was my God. In the world he raised me in, everything was perfect. Safety, freedom, love, affection, kindness, love, all of those things made up the flowery world he'd made me believe in. And the day he came to me and told me he would disown me if I didn't side with Atlan in his war to break everything apart, I'd been far more confused than anything else. It felt like he'd been speaking a different language.
And when he'd snapped and bit me, when he attacked me every time he went into beast mode after that, the whole world came crashing down on top of me. Where was the safety I felt when I was with him? Why was he hurting me? Why was he hurting everyone else? Why didn't he love me anymore?
What had I done to make him like that? What was so fucking wrong with me that he didn't want me anymore? What did I do? Even Joxeia didn't want me, Satanika, Alexion. No one else wanted me. Everyone saw something in me they hated, they didn't want. What was it? What made people not want me?
Be an asshole. At least then I would know why people hated me. Be antisocial. No wonder people didn't want to be around me. Embrace it. Embrace what I'd created. Now it all made sense.
It was a basic equation. Xiphrus loved me, then he hated me, he tried to kill me. What had I done? Well, clearly I was a shitty person. That's why he did all those things. Of course. Joxeia loved me, then he forgot about me. How come? Oh, right, because I'm shitty. Satanika loved me, then she left me. Ah, I know. I'm really good at solving this kind of thing. Because I'm a horrible person.
It was my fault they all left.
It was my fault Xiphrus didn't love me. It was my fault he killed my siblings. It was my fault he went dark side. I did it. Me. It was because of me.
That was the logic I came up with over the years. And now Alaric was in front of me, breaking it all up into pieces and now I felt lost all over again. So why did Xiphrus hurt me? Why didn't he love me? Had he never loved me in the first place? Was I just unlovable from the very beginning? What went wrong? What did I do?
What did I do?
I lost track of how long we sat there. Alaric kept his arms around me the whole time. Eventually I found myself laying on the sofa with Alaric on top of me, propping himself up with his elbow on the back of the sofa as he ran his fingers through my hair, brushing it back out of my face. I swallowed hard, staring up at him, those hazel eyes that seemed to know everything.
I was eons old and Alaric somehow knew so much more than me. He was so smart. So fucking smart. He was so beautiful. In a world where nothing was perfect, he was the closest thing to it.
"Feeling a little better?" Alaric asked me softly.
"My nose is stuffy, my throat hurts, my eyes feel puffy," I responded hoarsely, and he raised an eyebrow at me and I smiled faintly, "But yeah. A bit." He smiled at that and leaned down, kissing me on the lips. He started to pull back, but I couldn't let him go. I put my arm around him, reaching up to sink my fingers in his feathery soft white hair, holding him down so I could kiss him. I parted my lips against his, felt around with my tongue until I could taste him. His mouth was a wet sweet cavern I explored fully and with relish.
He moaned softly and I felt him wedge my thick thigh between his legs, rubbing against the bulge forming at the front of his pants. I growled low in my throat, savoring the feel of him rubbing himself against me, taking over his mouth. His breath was a hot blast against my face as we paused our kiss to take in oxygen, his chest pressing down on mine. I stared into his hooded hazel eyes, my tongue creeping across my lips.
"I love you, Alaric. I love you so fucking much," I whispered. He smiled, bit his lip a little, then kissed me.
"I love you too, baby. I love everything about you," he answered, then slowly sat up on top of me, wrestling his pants off and throwing them on the floor. I reached down, frantically unzipping my jeans and taking myself out while Alaric dug in the drawers nearby to get the lube out. Everything was jerky and quick, like neither one of us wanted to dink around with foreplay right now. It was a hungry desperation to have each other and not wanting to wait.
Our breaths were quick gasps, our movements fevered, and focus locked on the task at hand. Once he was good at wet and my cock standing up straight, he picked himself up and dropped himself right down on top of me. I shouted, throwing my head back against the sofa, grabbing onto it for support. I took a few deep breathes, thinking of old grannies to try and keep myself from coming right away. It did the trick, because I managed to sit there, buried balls deep inside Alaric, who was breathing hard and shoving up my shirt. I helped him peel it off and threw it over my head so it landed on the television.
Not wanting to wait another minute, he started to roll his hips against me and I groaned, arching my back, thrusting myself up inside him. He gasped and purred sensually, body surging in a hypnotic sway, his eyelids falling shut as if he could think of nothing better than me inside him. He kneaded at my chest, pushing his fingers over my nipples, making them hard and I growled as I felt the same electric charge rushing through my veins and straight down to my cock.
And goddamn, I hated myself as my cock kicked and I hissed as I came, filling him up inside. Thankfully, Alaric was already on pins and needles himself as he hit his peak and cried out, spilling himself onto my chest. I reached up, took his hand, dragged his fingers through the mess he made on me, and suckled it off his digits. He moaned and pushed his fingers into my mouth so I could suck on them nice and deep. He kept rocking himself on top of me, riding straight into another orgasm.
The feel of him so tight around me, sucking me deep inside him, drinking me up, sent another pulse rushing straight down my spine, causing my hips to jack up off the sofa so I was coming a second time.
Fuck, it was so good. So delicious. So perfect. It was everything I needed in a healthy dose. I went from crying like a bitch to totally having my way with Alaric. Because the fun didn't stop on the sofa. We went to the kitchen with the intention to eat, since gurgling stomachs protested anything else, but as I watched Alaric bend over to grab a loaf of bread from the cupboard, I couldn't help myself.
I mounted him from behind, and he cried out, clutching onto the countertop for support as I slammed into him, rocking him up against the granite, his fingernails scraping the smooth surface. He threw himself back against me, reaching around to cup my head and drawing our lips together as I arched into him and came again. A couple more rounds on the island counter, another on the floor, and one more in the shower and I think we were pretty much spent.
Now, I found myself sitting on the sofa as Alaric came in with some food. Instead of my fatty greasy usual meals, he came in with a heart healthy meal of quinoa mixed with veggies and some kind of glazed chicken. It didn't look half bad, so I gave it a shot and why was I even surprised when it turned out to be fucking delicious? Everything Alaric made was delicious.
"Did we already have this stuff in the fridge?" I asked as I ate a bite of chicken. Alaric shook his head.
"All we had were frozen burgers, frozen corn dogs, some leftover takeout, a ton of half eaten bags of chips. All of which I threw out."
"Aw, what?"
"Yeah. I wanted you to be healthy. So... while I was giving you time to cool off, I went out and bought a whole bunch of stuff. I had Mia come over and show me how to whip up a few things. After destroying a new grille and burning three batches of chicken, I managed to find a few things I could make without destroying the house," Alaric explained as he sat next to me. I laughed at that, taking another bite of food and washing it back with some black coffee.
And then something occurred to me in that moment.
"Wait, what?" I asked, looking at him. He looked at me curiously.
"What?"
"What do you mean time to cool off? You went and bought stuff? I thought you didn't want me back."
"What? No way, absolutely not. When you told me earlier you were here for your stuff, I was confused. I thought maybe it was just another one of our things. I mean, obviously a little more intense, but I never thought we were going to break up over it," Alaric said, shaking his head. I scowled, then leaned over and took my phone out of my jacket pocket. I flipped it open and showed him the next he'd sent me, and now he looked confused.
"Well, that makes no sense at all. I never sent that."
"But you sent Raven to me. Back at the hospital. He came and told me you didn't want to see me anymore."
"What? No, I didn't. I haven't talked to Raven in days. In fact, I don't think he's talked to anyone in days. Last I checked, he and Dev were on vacation in Greece," Alaric explained. I looked back down at my phone, scowling. That didn't make any sense. Raven himself had come to see me. I recognized him. Same old Rave, or bunny as some people called him. Tall, dark, and handsome with a head of black curly hair and soft blue eyes, dressed from head to toe in coverings, despite the weather, in order to hide the scars from his imprisonment in Hades.
"But, I saw him," I muttered, then slowly turned to Alaric, who looked stiff now.
"What?" I asked.
"Xiphrus told me something a while back," he said slowly, making me frown, "He said he didn't even notice Viviana when they first met. She was disguised as a janitor working in the tower where the UP meetings are held, in Seattle. She looked like a decrepit old woman and he was none the wiser." I stared at him.
"You think Viviana came to me in the hospital?" I asked. Alaric nodded.
"She had to. There's no way that was Raven. And for the record, I am totally not prepared to break up with you. You can't leave me that easily, baby. We fight, sure, but that's what being married is about. You fight, you have really great make up sex, then move on."
"That's good to know. Except now I'm kind of freaking out because why the hell is Viviana out and about? She sent her cronies in for her."
"Huh?"
"Her minions, her shadows. Rowan and Simon. I thought Viviana had sent them in to do her dirty work."
"You know them by name?"
"They're not nearly as bad as you think they are," I muttered, deciding not to mention to Alaric that Rowan had a thing for me and that Simon tried to jump my ass on two different occasions, "Listen, let me give them a call real quick. I need to figure out what the hell is going on." Alaric just nodded numbly, watching me as I stood up and dialed Rowan's number. I waited impatiently as the phone rang before finally it picked up.
"Are you alright?" Immediately how Rowan greeted me. I was briefly caught off guard, and I don't know why because that's just the kind of person Rowan was.
"Viviana visited me in the hospital," I stated.
"What?" Now Rowan sounded confused, genuinely confused. So he had no idea Viviana had disguised herself and walked into the hospital right under our noses. Rowan had been out in the hallway when "Raven" had some to see me. He hadn't acted the least bit suspicious.
"Did you know she came to me in the form of another person?" I asked.
"What? No. That's impossible--"
"No, Xiphrus told everyone that Viviana first appeared to him as another person--"
"No, Stanton, you don't understand. That's literally impossible. Viviana doesn't have a shapeshifting ability. In order to shape shift, you have to have perfect vision to be able to take the exact form of someone else. Vivian's colorblind. She's got tritanopia. They cannot shapeshift."
"Wait, that doesn't make any sense. So if Xiphrus didn't meet Viviana, and if that person who came to me wasn't Viviana... Then who the fuck are we dealing with?