Page 13
Story: The River of Hatred
But I cansmellher body. It’s not unpleasant, no; she obviously washed herself in the bathroom along with the… underthings she hung to dry over the headboard. She smells of soft, warm musk and the citrus soap she uses, a scent I familiarized myself with these last days.
I can nearly feel her warmth against the side of my body…
“We took naps in the Crystal Forest together as younglings, Itha.”
“That was different,” I mutter, holding my breath.
“Why?” he drawls again. “Because you didn’t have impure thoughts then?”
I shoot up into a seated position and hiss at the Fallen, “I am not having impure thoughts!”
“Because I sure was,” he continues, a grin in his voice.
Pins and needles travel from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. What is he saying? Was he having impure thoughts… about me? No… It was likely the humans he spied on. And that demoness from downstairs. What type of relationship does he have with her? For some reason my ears are feeling very hot.
I turn my pillow and lie back down, determined to ignore the scoundrel. Odd sensations stir in my lower stomach.
As time passes, I manage to quiet my mind, the sound of Sariel tending to his axe with an oiled cloth lulling me into a meditative state. Until the Nephilim loses a breathy moan. My eyes open at the sound and Sariel chuckles.
“I wonder if she’s dreaming about us again,” he says. I remain quiet, almost straining to hear if Jessica will make another sound like that again. “The three of us,” he clarifies. “Our hands on her willing body.” Warmth spreads from my chest and now-pounding heart, over my neck. “You taking her from the front as I slide in from the back.”
I launch my pillow at him and awhumpsounds before multicolored feathers burst out of it and float around us. He intercepted it with his axe.
Jessica gasps and jumps up. “What? Are we under attack?”
“Yes,” Sariel laughs. “By down stuffing. You’re paying for the pillow, angel.”
I like the way he said ‘angel’ as little as I like anything else that came out of that sinful mouth tonight.
Chapter 8 – Jessica
Iwake up to Ithuriel sitting at the table. I wonder if he got any sleep at all, with all the bickering he and Sariel did during the night. Bickering that ended with the demise of the angel's pillow, the evidence of which still lies strewn over the foot of the bed.
"Where's your broodier half?" I ask the angel.
"He is not my anything," he replies icily.
"I'm sorry." I try to sound contrite, but to be honest, I think Sariel's mischief is rubbing off on me and I'm enjoying teasing Ithuriel almost as much as he is.
"He went to have breakfast downstairs when I awoke."
"Okay." I chew on my lip, then muster the courage to ask the question I've been dying to ask since we left Purgatory. "What's the deal with you two?"
Ithuriel looks away to stare into emptiness. "There is no deal. I am an angel, he is Fallen."
"Yeah, but..." I hesitate. When am I going to have another chance like this though? "You used to be friends?" The angel's gaze returns to mine, and though his eyes are the same crystalline icy color as before, they now hold a vulnerability he probably doesn't know how to hide. I'm suddenly glad Sariel isn't here to press on the wound.
"We were inseparable. Our elders often commented that Father must have created us to complement each other." The angel's mouth twists. "And yet, I did not know his intentions."
I pick at the skin around my thumbnail. "Did you know he had feelings for you?"
Ithuriel laughs mirthlessly. "There are no feelings, nor were there then. Do not let him convince you that his behavior is anything other than the need to cause discomfort to everyone around him.”
I’m not so sure about that, but I don’t say it. I feel like this angel isn’t the type to change his mind easily. “I should go downstairs and see if I can get breakfast too,” I say instead and he immediately bristles.
“I don’t believe it’s a good idea for you to be near those creatures.”
“That’s okay.” I hop out of bed and gather my stuff, strapping on my weapons.Wonder if they have coffee?“Sariel’s there. And I can take care of myself.” I glance at Ithuriel in time to see his jaw muscles tick.
I can nearly feel her warmth against the side of my body…
“We took naps in the Crystal Forest together as younglings, Itha.”
“That was different,” I mutter, holding my breath.
“Why?” he drawls again. “Because you didn’t have impure thoughts then?”
I shoot up into a seated position and hiss at the Fallen, “I am not having impure thoughts!”
“Because I sure was,” he continues, a grin in his voice.
Pins and needles travel from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. What is he saying? Was he having impure thoughts… about me? No… It was likely the humans he spied on. And that demoness from downstairs. What type of relationship does he have with her? For some reason my ears are feeling very hot.
I turn my pillow and lie back down, determined to ignore the scoundrel. Odd sensations stir in my lower stomach.
As time passes, I manage to quiet my mind, the sound of Sariel tending to his axe with an oiled cloth lulling me into a meditative state. Until the Nephilim loses a breathy moan. My eyes open at the sound and Sariel chuckles.
“I wonder if she’s dreaming about us again,” he says. I remain quiet, almost straining to hear if Jessica will make another sound like that again. “The three of us,” he clarifies. “Our hands on her willing body.” Warmth spreads from my chest and now-pounding heart, over my neck. “You taking her from the front as I slide in from the back.”
I launch my pillow at him and awhumpsounds before multicolored feathers burst out of it and float around us. He intercepted it with his axe.
Jessica gasps and jumps up. “What? Are we under attack?”
“Yes,” Sariel laughs. “By down stuffing. You’re paying for the pillow, angel.”
I like the way he said ‘angel’ as little as I like anything else that came out of that sinful mouth tonight.
Chapter 8 – Jessica
Iwake up to Ithuriel sitting at the table. I wonder if he got any sleep at all, with all the bickering he and Sariel did during the night. Bickering that ended with the demise of the angel's pillow, the evidence of which still lies strewn over the foot of the bed.
"Where's your broodier half?" I ask the angel.
"He is not my anything," he replies icily.
"I'm sorry." I try to sound contrite, but to be honest, I think Sariel's mischief is rubbing off on me and I'm enjoying teasing Ithuriel almost as much as he is.
"He went to have breakfast downstairs when I awoke."
"Okay." I chew on my lip, then muster the courage to ask the question I've been dying to ask since we left Purgatory. "What's the deal with you two?"
Ithuriel looks away to stare into emptiness. "There is no deal. I am an angel, he is Fallen."
"Yeah, but..." I hesitate. When am I going to have another chance like this though? "You used to be friends?" The angel's gaze returns to mine, and though his eyes are the same crystalline icy color as before, they now hold a vulnerability he probably doesn't know how to hide. I'm suddenly glad Sariel isn't here to press on the wound.
"We were inseparable. Our elders often commented that Father must have created us to complement each other." The angel's mouth twists. "And yet, I did not know his intentions."
I pick at the skin around my thumbnail. "Did you know he had feelings for you?"
Ithuriel laughs mirthlessly. "There are no feelings, nor were there then. Do not let him convince you that his behavior is anything other than the need to cause discomfort to everyone around him.”
I’m not so sure about that, but I don’t say it. I feel like this angel isn’t the type to change his mind easily. “I should go downstairs and see if I can get breakfast too,” I say instead and he immediately bristles.
“I don’t believe it’s a good idea for you to be near those creatures.”
“That’s okay.” I hop out of bed and gather my stuff, strapping on my weapons.Wonder if they have coffee?“Sariel’s there. And I can take care of myself.” I glance at Ithuriel in time to see his jaw muscles tick.
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