(BLAINE)
I watch Zane as he sleeps. Sandy-brown bangs fall across his brow, and I fight the urge to brush them aside. To touch him.
I can't explain why, but I am drawn to him. I have been since the day I walked into his shop and saw his big hazel eyes staring up at me.
He is an ordinary human. Average. His wardrobe seems to mostly consist of cardigan sweaters and vests, mainly grey and navy blue with a few green ones thrown in. He has little to no muscle, and his body is soft. Not the body of someone who could fight off a pair of shades.
The memory of him lying in a pool of his own blood with his chest slashed to hell is one I won't soon forget.
Throughout my life, I've seen countless humans die at the hands of demons. We have saved many of them, but the ones we'd lost, though disappointing, haven't affected me quite as much as seeing Zane that way had, him barely clinging to consciousness as he bled out on the floor of his shop.
A protective instinct had kicked in. Letting him die was out of the question.
So is letting him out of my sight.
Does it make sense? No. All I know about him is his name. Yet, being in his presence calms me. My wrathful urges dissipate. I am used to being angry all the time, but not when around him.
Perhaps that's what drew me to him, that sense of peace he instills in my mind. Simon stirrs in his sleep, making the softest of sounds. I find myself leaning closer, the pull to him unstoppable.
I ghost my fingers over his jaw, then down the side of his neck. He smells like rain. Guilt clings to my insides as I look at the bandages around his arm and chest. I should've known the scent of the box was still at the shop.
Shades might be dumb as doornails, but they are incredible trackers. Killers. If they are ordered to retrieve something, they kill anything in their way.
Knowing he'd be asleep for a while, I leave the room and softly close the door behind me.
"How's the human?" Thereon asks, leaning against the wall.
"Have you been standing there this entire time?"
"No." He pushes from the wall and keeps pace beside me as I walk toward the entertainment room.
"Long enough to see your little internal dilemma though."
"What are you talking about?"
"He means something to you."
"No, he doesn't. He's only here because he has a target on his back. Leaving him somewhere to die goes against everything we stand for."
Thereon smirks. "So why is he in your bed?"
"Because I don't trust any of you assholes." I shove him away as he starts to laugh.
"Get that dumbass look off your face. The human means nothing to me."
"Maybe. But you totally want to fuck him."
I glare over at Thereon. He wiggles his pierced eyebrows up and down, and that stupid grin returns. I want to punch him.
When we enter the entertainment room, Kaiser looks up from where he was leaning over the pool table. He shoots the stripe into the upper left pocket before coming over to us. His bare chest has claw marks from where a shade had attacked him. The wound had been deep and gushing blood an hour ago but appears as faint scratches now, thanks to our quick healing abilities.
"Where is he?" Kaiser asks.
"Sleeping," I answer.
Loki sits up on the couch, his hair messy from sleep."I want to meet the human."
"Me too," Valerian says, entering the room. His golden hair hangs in waves to the middle of his ears, and his eyes flash to brown, then to hazel. "He smells divine. Like a spring morning before it rains."
I squeeze my hand into a fist. "Lay a finger on him and I'll chop off the part of your body you love the most."
"Now that's just cruel." Valerian tips back his glass of wine infused with ambrosia.
"What did my cock ever do to you?"
"I know you, Lust," I growl, taking a step forward.
"Keep. Your. Hands. Off. Him."
"Fine, fine. I'll keep my hands off him."
Valerian smiles.
"But what about other parts of me?"
I leave the room before I accidentally rip his head off. I have too much in my mind, which doesn't help my sour mood. Being around my brothers at the moment would only fuel my anger. They have a way of making it worse with their smart-ass comments and pestering personalities.
"Blaine."
I stop in the hall and turn toward the open door to Kian's study. Stepping through the doorway, I see him sitting in a high-back red chair, a book on his lap and a cup of hot tea beside him.
"Come in," he says, his expression neutral.
"You want to bitch at me some more?" He presses his lips together.
"Not exactly." Bracing myself for a lecture, I walk inside and sit in the chair beside him. Wood crackles in the fireplace in front of us, the warmth of it soothing. Shelves line the walls, filled with his favorite novels, a majority of them first editions. He knows many of the authors. Slept with several of them too.
The floor-to-ceiling windows show trees and a rock garden, along with a bench for him to sit outside on nice days and read. His study is his sanctuary, the place he goes when he needs to think or to get away from us for a while.
"Cyrus still hasn't answered me," Kian says, staring at the crackling fire.
"He must be dealing with problems elsewhere. Last we spoke, he said Godric and Astaroth were in Norfolk meeting with a powerful witch. The angels are keeping tabs on them in hopes of learning their plan. There've been demon attacks all over the world, more so than usual."
Astaroth is a general of the underworld, and Godric is his newly appointed lieutenant. They are two of the most powerful beings in the underworld.
They pass down orders and send shades to do their dirty work.
Astaroth is also Loki's father. The rest of our fathers had been killed when Zenith was defeated and locked away.
"They must be after the box," I say, glancing over at the safe in which Kian had placed it. Warding against demons marks the outside of the safe. Just as an extra precaution.
"Why else would the shades be searching for it?"
"I've come to the same conclusion. Which brings me to my next point. The human."
Here we go.