(ZANE)
"The end? It can't be. I still have lots of other questions. This is just the beginning of the story." Then his words from earlier register. "Wait, you said earlier that you healed my injuries? I mean, you nursed them, right?"
"No. Healed them. For the most part anyway." Blaine looks down at his hand, then frowns. "The one on your chest gave me trouble though. It was deep. Too deep. I stopped the bleeding when I first found you, but my brothers had to help me to close up the wound."
I touch the wrapping on my chest and inhale shakily. Apart from an uncomfortable ache and pressure, I feel fine, considering some creature had tried to rip me apart. I am lucky to be alive. The details of the attack are a bit fuzzy, but I remember lying on the floor at the foot of the staircase as something tore my chest. I remember it hot breath on my skin too. There was so much blood.
"T…thanks." I say through the sudden tightness that I now feel in my throat. "For saving my life."
The expression on his face softens. "There are so many things that you could have said. So many questions that you could have asked. But you thanked me instead."
"Oh, the questions will come later. You can bet on that. I'm just in shock right now. I think. Being attacked by those shade demons and hearing you say things like you healed me like you are some kind of a magical sexy elf or something. It is a lot to process."
Blaine's jaw clenches. "I'm not an elf. I'm Nephilim."
"A what now?"
"Nephilim." He repeats. "My father was an angel. And my mother was human."
I stare at him blankly, then study the size of his arms, his wide chest, and his broad shoulders. He is wearing a shirt now, but I remember being pressed against his bare torso, one with chiselled abs. A sharp jawline and a hard set to his brow. He screams raw masculinity, though there is a softness to the curve of his lips.
"You're... an angel?"
"You look more shocked than you were when I told you about demons."
"Well, when I picture angels, I don't exactly imagine..." I wave a hand up and down his big, muscled body. "―this."
"Let me guess. You thought angels were cute little beings that played harps and wore diapers?"
I breathe out a laugh. "Yeah. Kind of."
"There are different classes of angels." Blaine explains. "There are the joy bringers, who are whimsical and spread happiness. But they wear a chiton, not diapers." I smile at that and listen as he keeps explaining. All of this is some crazy bs. I am probably dreaming. Or dead, who knows? This could even be my weird afterlife.
"I belong to the warrior class. I fight demons and protect the earth. However, just like I told you earlier, I'm only half angel."
"So what is being half an angel like? Can you fly?"
"Yes."
"Really?" I cock my head. "But you don't have wings."
"I do. They are just hidden at the moment."
"Can I see them?"
"No."
They need to create a new class of angelic beings. The killjoy angels. He will be a good leader to them.
"Why are you smiling?"
"No reason." I press my lip into a thin line. "If angels and demons are real, then I bet so is heaven and hell."
Blaine nods. "Yes. Though they are probably not what you think. Most people have their own versions of the two places. But the reality is different. For the underworld anyway. I have never been to the celestial realm."
"Celestial realm?"
"Yes. The home of angels. The place you think of as heaven."
"Why haven't you been there?"
"I'm not allowed. None of my brothers are."
"Why?"
Blaine exhales frustratedly, then rubs at his temple. "That is enough questions for now."
"Just one more, please." I plead. "You owe me that much. This whole thing is just crazy."
Then light grey eyes shift to me. Waiting.
"Why tell me all of this?"
"Because whether you like it or not, you are involved now." He answers in an irritated tone. Did I annoy him? Or is he annoyed by the situation? Maybe both. "The box that I took from you, the demons are after it. I thought that once I got it away from your shop, they would leave you alone. But it turns out I was wrong. The mistake that I made nearly cost you your life. Consider this me making amends."
I recall the conversation that I heard earlier before he came into the room. The other party was so pissed off about me being there. I remember him saying something about how their location should stay secret.
"So I am your prisoner now?" I ask, putting one plus one together.
"That is another question." His lips twitch. "No. You aren't my prisoner. But then you can't leave."
"That is literally the definition of a prisoner."
"Think of it more like protective custody." Blaine gets up from the bed then stares at me. "It could be worse. You could go home and be eaten by the shades. Staying here protected would be much better. Don't you think?"
"Then what about my business?" I ask, trying to slide off the bed but wincing at the pain that shoots through my loins. Blaine gently pushes me back to the pillow. "I have to go to work. I have bills to pay. Not to mention that the employees rely on me. Dante too."
"Tell him that you are closing the shop for the rest of the week." Blaine says. "A paid vacation. I will make sure that he is compensated for it. Now, quit stressing and get some rest."
I wonder how he expects me to rest when I have just been smacked with so much craziness at ago. Sleeping is the last thing on my mind even.
"Why would you do all this for me though? Why go through all the trouble to save somebody who you don't even know?"
"Zane, if you ask me one more question, I might be forced to smother you with a pillow."
That is the first time he ever said my name. And damn if I don't like the way it rolled off his tongue.
Blaine hovers over me, his fingers skating my jaw.
My pulse picks as I stare at him. But not from fear. I consider myself relatively tame when it comes to sex. I'm no virgin, nor do I sleep around a lot, especially with guys who I don't know. But being around Blaine has amped up my desire to fuck him nine ways to Sunday. And in every possible position.
And I feel something else. Some sort of pull towards him.
Drowsiness then hits me full force. I struggle to stay alert to no avail. He takes off my glasses and places them on the bedstand, and I lose the battle to keep my eyes open.
In seconds, I fall fast asleep.