Blood and Apples: An Annora Park Novel: Book One

Chapter Fifteen: Temporal Lobes and Twilight

   "So, how long do you think you're going to sulk," I clear my throat and snort, "...just thought I'd get a time frame here for how long we're gonna have to put up with it."
   Walker shoots me a dirty look.   "I do not sulk."
   I laugh.  "Uh, you're definitely sulking, Walker." I wave my hand in his face, "This...this is a very very sulking face." I sigh, "I mean, it's not like I'm doing the dirty with the angel in your house."  I had definitely shot down Chamuel's idea of finalizing the bond right away, as in, the moment he'd finished explaining it all to me.  There was no way in ever loving hell I was sleeping with the angel in Walker's house while he and Garrett just hung out downstairs.  Talk about rude, and awkward as fuck.  I had, however, promised Chamuel that I'd find an appropriate place and time to finalize the bond and then, and only then, would be uh, 'do it.'
   "Did I not say it was okay, my darling?" Walker grinds out.  "I said you should complete the link."
   "You did.  And now you're sulking."
   "Again, I do not sulk."
   "Fine," I roll my eyes, "You're not sulking. You're just staring at me like I killed your familiar..." I narrow my eyes.  "By the way...where IS your familiar, Walker?"
   "Oh, mother has Bento right now."
   "Why does your mother have your familiar, Walker?"
   "He was feeling a little under the weather.  She took him to check him out.  Actually, she should be bringing him by tonight." He brightens then.  "She'll be delighted to see you, darling."
   "It'll be nice to see Leanore again," I murmur.  I liked Walker's mother.  Her Coven and their practices made me slightly nervous, but Leanore, as a person, was wonderful, and had been like a second mother to me when my own had died...or as Chamuel informed me, had faded.
   "She has always considered you the daughter she never had, my darling."
   Now that wasn't weird or anything, riiiiight...considering her son's relationship, or his, apparent wanting of a relationship with me.
   As if he could read my mind Walker laughs heartily.  "A daughter by marriage, dearheart."
   "Walker," I sigh, "Again, we're not getting married."
   "We are, you just haven't realized it yet."
   I roll my eyes.  "You're delusional."
   "You accept that you have a soul link with the Leader of The Angelic Host, that you need to finalize said link to live forever, and that your mother was in fact, an angel, but you cant accept that we are going to be married one day, my sweetheart?"
   "Walker, everything you just said, well, it just is.  I can't do anything about it.  But marriage to you...that I can do something about.  If I don't want to marry you, then I'm not going to marry you.  So no, I don't accept that we're going to get married."
   "Annora..."
   "Oh, don't get me wrong, I believe that YOU believe we're going to get married.  But that doesn't change anything for me." I groan.  "And why are we talking about this now anyway?  Hell, Walker, we haven't even been on one date and already you have us walking down the aisle to the altar."
   Walker brightens instantly.  "That is right, we haven't had our dates yet, Annora darling.  We are going to rectify that immediately."
   "Maybe not immediately, Walker.  There IS the matter of a serial killer Dark Fae running around murdering humans, you know."
   Walker waves his hand carelessly.  "Oh, I know, I know...but that shouldn't stop us from having our dates.  We can work around that.  Do not worry about a thing, Annora dearheart.  I will handle everything.  You won't have to deal with a thing."
   And that's what worried me.   "Walker..."
   "No...no...you said it yourself, we haven't had our dates yet, of course you're slightly reticent to accept our marriage.  We will rectify all of that, though."
   Talking to Walker was like trying to talk to a super caffeinated, overly charged completely deranged psychopath—impossible. "Walker, we don't have time to date right now."
"We'll make time, Annora darling." Walker narrows his eyes. "If you can make time to get it on with the bird, you certainly can make time to go on a few dates with me, my darling."
Ugh. I didn't like how he put it. But he DID have a point. "Fine, fine, we'll go on a few dates. But, really Walker, we need to sort this all out. There is a LOT going on right now."
Walker claps his hands, "Which is why I told you not to worry your pretty little head about anything. I'll handle everything, darling."
    I drop my head into my hands and groan. The raucous chiming of bells signals Chamuel's reappearance. He'd gone to 'handle a few things.' When I'd asked him what he had to handle, he had told me 'not to worry.' Actually he'd sounded a lot like Walker then. I really hated the whole, 'oh don't worry about anything, Annora, we'll handle it all.' I didn't like the feeling of being out of control. And with these two, the topic of control was laughable. Half the time I felt as if I were losing my ever lovin' mind.
    I get up and walk to the foyer, and yup, there is Chamuel in all of his glory, still wielding a sword in one hand, but now strung across his back is a quiver of golden arrows, and in his other hand he holds a golden bow.
"Okay, so what's the deal? Are we going to war with King Midas or something?" I laugh dryly. "What's with all the weapons, Chamuel?"
"I told you, amour, I had a few things to deal with."
"Yup, things that you wouldn't tell me about." I narrow my eyes. "Care to share now?"
Chamuel strides over to my side and gifts me a small, serene smile. "My beloved, you're so suspicious."
"It's called natural curiosity, Chamuel. I have a lot of it. Especially when I think these matters have something to do with me."
"Come..." Chamuel says, "Let us find your Romanoff. I take it Goodson has returned to his...domicile?"
"Garrett went to the station. He had paperwork to do, and well, he went to fill in our Captain."
"Good, good. This is better dealt with just the three of us, amour."
"Did I hear my name?" Walker strides purposefully towards us.
"Yes, we have matters to discuss. Do you have a room in this House of Halloween suited to any sort of comfort where we can speak?"
I bust out laughing, like gut wrenching laughter. Even the angel thought Walker's house was a horror. "I think...I think..." I say, trying to get my laughter under control. "You mean haunted house. People don't really say house of Halloween. But we both get the idea, Chamuel." I snort, "And Walker's parlor actually has the heavenly chair."
"Impossible, the Heavenly Chair is in..."
I laugh again, "...I meant it's like the most comfortable chair I've ever sat in, in my entire life, trust me on this. It's ahhhhmaaaaazing!"
Walker gives Chamuel a dirty look. "Come on bird boy, my Annora darling wants to sit in her chair."
   "Do not call me bird boy," Chamuel shoots back, but follows Walker and I to the parlor.  He casts his eyes around, his face growing darker by the second.  "This...this is the best you can do?"
   "Don't like it? Feel free to leave," Walker says dryly.
   "Don't be like that," I grab Chamuel's hand and pull him over to the black chair, laughing at the look of horror on his face.  "I promise that it feels better than it looks.  No, not better...it feels amazing.  Trust me." I smile at him.  Take off the quiver, put down the bow, and sword and sit down, Chamuel."  After a long minute, Chamuel does as I bid, and sinks into the chair.  His face instantly transforms, and a beautiful, a beyond beautiful smile overtakes it.
   "This is..." he murmurs.
   "I know, right?" I look at Walker then, "I want to know where you got this chair, Walker."
   "No, darling girl, then you'd have no reason to come in here and partake of it's glory." Walker grins at my annoyed look.  "But again, I said it earlier, feel free to make use of it whenever you like, sweetheart.  Okay, get out of the chair, bird bo—Chamuel," Walker spits out then.  "Let Annora darling sit."
   Chamuel slowly gets up from the chair and I take his place, closing my eyes in pleasure as I sink into the deep softness.  This really is a magically wonderful chair.
"Gahhh...I REALLY need to know where you got this chair, Walker." I moan.
Walker grins. "Never gonna happen Annora darling, but do feel free to keep on trying. Those sounds you make don't hurt either."
I shoot him a dirty look and turn my eyes back to Chamuel. "Sit...take a load off," The fact that I was inviting him to relax in a home that was not my own, did not, in fact, escape my notice. Still I did so. It just felt, right. The moment he's seated on the loveseat closest to me, I give him a big smile. "There, not too bad, right?"
Chamuel gives me a side grin, and it looks adorable on his beautiful face. "Yes, amour, not too bad."
"Sooooooo...you were going to tell us about 'these things' you had to deal with when you went to wherever it is that you went to."
"Was I now?" Chamuel says, side grin still present.
Now I give him the stink eyes. "Yes, you most certainly were. Look, you don't just disappear with a 'soyanora folks, gotta go see something or someone, about a something or someone,' only to return and keep your trap closed about it. Where were you? What were you doing? And why did you return dressed looking, like a better looking Brad Pitt from the movie 'Troy,'?"
"You think me handsome, amour," And his side grin now splits his face, it's so wide. His eyes begin to glow again and I smack my forehead.
"Focus here, Chamuel," I shake my head, "God, you both are impossible. Of course I think you're handsome. I think you're stunning, but then, doesn't everyone? You're an angel, the head of The Host, you're pretty much spectacularly splendid. The fact that I think you're eye candy has nothing to do with anything here. So again, what's going on?"
"Yes, can we get on with it, I think I'm going to throw up a bit," Walker bites out.
"The bathroom is..." Chamuel narrows his eyes, "...I, in fact, have no idea where the bathroom is, in this horror of a haunted mansion you call a house, but wherever it is, feel free to go and use it if you feel as if you are indeed going to vomit."
And this is how a conversation with these two runs away from me. "Please, both of you, stop, just stop. Let's rewind, and go back just a tad bit, take it down in testosterone a notch or two, or two hundred and try this again. Walker sit down, you're not actually going to throw up. Chamuel, don't try and bait him, and give us both the answers we need so that we can get out there and do something productive, like, oh, catch a killer, okay?" I watch as Walker slowly slides his long frame into a chair on the opposite side of me, and where Chamuel is sitting and then I turn pointed eyes to Chamuel, as if daring him to deny me.
Chamuel sighs. "Again, I must apologize, amour, for this...baiting you speak of. I know that Romanoff is in your life, it is exactly as The Graces have said, and yet the acceptance...it is harder than I thought it would be. I had not expected this level of... of..."
"Hatred? Loathing? Obsessive near-like violent urge to main and destroy?" Walker finishes for him dryly. "I know exactly how you feel, birdie."
Chamuel narrows his eyes and speaks through grit teeth, "I was saying...I had not expected this level of...jealousy and competitiveness. And Romanoff and I...we do have a bit of history between us, or should I say he has a bit of history with The Host, which complicates matters a bit, makes things...more difficult to say the very least."
I nod. Makes sense. "Thanks for the apology Chamuel," and I really mean it. It takes a big man, or in this case, angel, to apologize. "It seems as if this was all 'written' somewhere, uh, inevitable, you know. So, well, we'll 'get there guys,'" agonizingly slowly, with a side helping of torture and murder, and discarded body parts, but get there we would.