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CHAPTER SEVEN: BRASS TACKS - PART FOUR
They walked in silence back toward Harri’s apartment. Azel’s wings itched to stretch out and wrap around Harri’s shoulders to shield her from the biting breeze. But he wasn’t sure that would be welcome, so he clutched them tight against his back, hunching his shoulders and holding himself as still as possible so he didn’t accidentally brush against her as they made their way.
“I’m sorry about all that.” Her words were so soft he almost lost them on the whipping wind.
He shrugged. Like she’d said to the servers. “It wasn’t your fault.” Wasn’t the first person to react to him simply existing like that. Wouldn’t be the last, he was sure. He shoved his free hand into his pocket. “That was kind of you to tip them.” It was incredibly kind of her to stand up for him too, but he didn’t know how to say that without… Crying? Falling at her feet? He didn’t quite know, but he was sure it would be embarrassing, for them both.
She scoffed. “No one gets paid enough to deal with people like that.”
Azel nodded. Didn’t he know it. And it always seemed to be the lowest paid among them who were always forced to. “Which just makes your gesture mean more.” He was sure those two guys appreciated it. He knew he would.
Which made him feel somehow more conflicted. About everything. If he was honest, a part of him, the poor, struggling part, chafed at her ability — her easy, carefree, reflexive propensity — to, once again, throw her money around to make problems disappear. And to have her do so yet again at his expense… It made him feel greedily envious, and graspingly inadequate, and just… small.
Why had she done it anyway? Because that holier-than-thou hymn-hummer insulted him? Why did she care? She’d literally spiked him with holy oil; now she wanted to be offended that some pathetic pew-warmer said mean words to him. It didn’t make sense.
Neither did his reaction to it. Her anger on his behalf had been humbling and humiliating, yes, but also… hot as hell. She was the last person in the world — or any other for that matter — he would have ever wanted to see him being yelled at, being insulted and belittled, like that. He’d felt so helpless, knowing that there was nothing he could do or say that would change that stuffed pantsuit’s mind or make the situation better. So he’d just sat there, trying to make himself as imperceptible as possible.
And then, out of nowhere, Harri had appeared, standing taller than her 5’ 2” stature should be able to, right between him and the big bad. Her furious indignation had lit her up from the inside out, making her look glorious. Like an avenging angel in cashmere and pressed pants. He hadn’t been able to look away from her.
And the taste of it! All that confidence and righteous indignation, like crackling lightning, was somehow both chilling and searing, yet so very sweet. It was satisfying in a way he’d never experienced before and couldn’t get enough of. He could have gorged himself on her defense of him forever, drank deeply of it from her fiery lips and licked its lingering taste from her skin, and still stayed hungry for it. For her.
For someone so impossibly out of his reach, he had to remind himself. He needed to remember that. His fingers brushed Xara’s business card in his pocket. She’d been right; he should cut his losses and run. Take the job Xara was offering and forget this whole thing with Harri.
Except, as they approached her apartment, the look on Harri’s face, the way her gaze anxiously darted up at her ex’s window, fucking gutted Azel. She’d just goddamed smited that simpering piety pusher like it was nothing. Even if he hated it, it’d been audacious as hell to poison a literal demon one night then schedule a meeting with him a few days later. Woman was fearless.
A small smile teased his lips before a frown stole it. Yet that smarmy, khaki-wearing, minivan-made asshole next door scared her. It wasn’t right.
Azel kicked a fallen stick along the sidewalk leading up to her building. “Need me to walk you to your door?” It was the least he could do for her. And then, if he was smart, he should walk the fuck away and not look back.
She shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine.”
She didn’t sound like she even believed that. But Azel simply nodded and held out the delivery bag. “Here.”
She wrinkled her nose at it. “Take it.”
He shook his head resolutely. “No free meals, remember? You paid for it.”
She sighed, her shoulders slumping tiredly. “I really don’t want it; I think that whole experience ruined me for breakfast foods.”
He snorted. Yeah, he got that, but he wasn’t exactly in a position to waste food like that. He let his arm drop to his side with a shrug. “I’ll pay you back then.”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to do that. It’s just fucking pancakes, Azel.”
But it wasn’t and they both knew it, so he didn’t say anything.
“Sorry,” she said, pressing her fingers to her temple. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
He shrugged. “It’s fine.”
“No!” she said, her voice rising again. “It’s not.” She sighed and licked her lips. “I don’t want to be mean or cold or distant. I don’t want to scare servers or make scenes in cafés. I feel like I don’t even recognize myself anymore.”
It was strange. Because, yes, Azel knew that the Harri standing in front of him now — certainly the one who’d stood up for him in the café — appeared different than the lonelyhearts woman he’d met in that bar. But, having felt her emotions every step of the way — the longing, the betrayed sense of justice at the way people too often treat each other, the strength and resilience to have lived with that day after day and still keep going — she felt the exact same. She was simply acting on those feelings more. She was choosing to act on them differently. Allowing those secret inner emotions to rise to the surface, showing in her words and actions.
And, for the life of him, Azel would never see that as a bad thing. Trying to find a way to say all that, he sighed and tilted his head thoughtfully. “Maybe you’re not yourself anymore.” She jerked her gaze to look at him questioningly, defensively. “Maybe you’re not who you used to be, behaving and believing exactly as you did before. But who said you’re supposed to be the same person forever? Maybe you’re who you need to be in this moment?”
She shook her head. “What do you mean? I’m supposed to be mean and cold and scary?”
Azel clutched the bag in his hands, feeling and hearing the paper bag crinkle as he fidgeted so he couldn’t reach out to comfort her like he wanted to. “I think you’re scared right now. You have an ex who won’t leave you alone, yet who also has left you alone, isolated you from and pitted you against your family and friends. Your whole life has been turned upside down. The people you thought you could trust don’t feel trustworthy any longer. The places and activities you thought were safe don’t feel that way anymore.” He scoffed, fisting the bag in frustration at wanting to — needing to — defend her with the same fervor she’d defended him. “You’re not mean, Harri; you’re mad. And you have every right to be.”
Her face went slack for a moment as his words whirred in that buzzing, fascinating, little computer in her brain. “But I don’t want to be.”
He clenched the bag in his hand so hard his talons pierced the thick paper as he fought the urge to smooth her furrowed brow. He didn’t understand why he wanted to make her feel better so much. He really shouldn’t — it wasn’t his place as her… employee, her fake boyfriend, whatever the fuck he was to her — but he needed to. “You don’t have to be. Not forever,” he told her softly. “Right now, everything in you is telling you to be wary, defensive, because, if you can’t tell who or what to trust, you can’t trust anything.” Was that why she’d poisoned him? “But, in time, you’ll learn how to have faith again, both in other people as well as in yourself.”
She smirked a little. “Is it weird to be getting advice about having faith from a demon?”
He chuckled, his stomach clenching over that tiny, light curve of her lips. “Yeah, I’m probably not the most qualified person on the subject.”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged, her expression widening into a genuine smile. “I really needed to hear someone say that; it was pretty perfect to me.” The relaxed, grateful look in her eyes eased a strange tension inside him that he hadn’t even been aware of until it was gone. “Thanks.”
He stared back at her, grinning himself, feeling almost dumbstruck by her words. By her, really. “You’re welcome.” He liked seeing her like this, lighter, freer. Because of something he‘d said. It made him feel… useful, powerful, wise. He blushed a bit at the fluttery thought. “Anytime.”
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