Page 16 of Deviled Eggs (One Handed Holidays: Crossed Swords Edition #4)

Xalreth

Micah stands to the side as I change, chewing on his lip as he stares out the window. Tensions have been high between us for the past few days, ever since the night in the tub. The realization of the extent of my feelings left me reeling, and I’ve been closed off and flighty.

He hasn’t commented on my shift in mood. He’s simply backed away and given me space to deal with my head. But where he used to shine like the sun when it was just the two of us, now his light has dimmed.

It’s my fault, and I hate myself for causing it.

My irritation is with myself, but I can’t seem to let go of it. Damien’s insistent summons aren’t helping. He’s reached out at least twice a day since that afternoon at the meeting, even arriving at my apartment unannounced. I’ve dodged him so far, but it can only last for so long. He’ll catch me eventually, and I have no idea what to say to him.

“You’re certain we’ve got the suit right this time?” My tone is snippy, and I’m immediately hit with a punch of guilt at my temper, but I can’t stop myself from being short with him. “This isn’t some human fetish that we haven’t discovered?” Micah hesitates, and I throw my hand against his abdomen. “ Tell me you don’t have me in yet another human sex suit?”

“There… may have been a few mentions of the concept of ‘furries.’”

“What the fuck is a furry , Micah?”

“Well, from what I understand, it’s a mating ritual where humans dress up in… outfits.”

“What kind of outfits?” I ask through gritted teeth, and he flinches as he gestures up and down my body.

“This kind. But I’ve been assured it’s very niche, and this particular outfit is widely recognized as being tied to the Easter Bunny.” I heave a long, loud exhale as I stare down at my costume. It’s a white, furry suit with a pastel pink oval sewn for the stomach, and I rest the oversized head against my hip. I won’t be wearing the head. Instead, I’ll rely on Micah’s magic to illusion me to take on its appearance.

“I cannot believe I ever agreed to this,” I mutter under my breath.

“Oh, stop being a baby,” Micah snaps, rightfully sick of my temper. “Your face is going to be disguised by my glamour. No one will even know it’s you.”

“Why don’t you do it then?”

“Fine! Give me the suit.” He holds his hands out towards me, and I scoff, rolling my eyes as I thrust the giant rabbit head against his chest.

“Like the pretty princess would ever risk being seen in this getup? Please, Micah, you’re far too arrogant for that. No, you’d rather send your fucking errand boy to do the things that you consider to be beneath you.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I know I’ve fucked up.

“That’s really your opinion of me? I thought…” A flash of pain crosses his expression before he becomes stony faced again, sneering at me in a way that’s both familiar and foreign. “Never mind. Come on, errand boy. Let’s move along and get this done, then.”

I hate how he has closed himself off to me, no matter how much I deserve it. The face he’s wearing right now isn’t my Micah—it’s the one he shows everyone else.

“Fuck, Micah—”

“Are we doing this or not?” Demons don’t often feel regret. We are selfish creatures by nature, but as I hear the hurt in his tone and watch him rebuild those walls that I’ve spent weeks demolishing, a crippling wave of it slices through me.

Apprehension lines his face, and he crosses his arms as I step closer. I reach out, holding on to his forearm. “I’m sorry… I’m being an ass.”

“Thanks, I’ve noticed,” he snaps, and jerks out of my grasp.

My eyes squeeze closed as I summon patience. Just because I’m the one to blame for the argument doesn’t change my basal nature. It’s difficult to defy my instincts, but I force myself to remain calm. “That’s fair. I deserve that. Once we’re finished with today’s work, will you let me make it up to you?”

“Make what up to me?”

“This,” I gesture between us. “All of this. How tense I’ve made things the past few days.” His eyes are guarded as they meet mine. “Please, angel.”

“What have I done to ruin us?” The quiet question might as well have been shouted with the way it hurts, and he stares at the wall so hard I’m surprised he doesn’t bore through it.

“You haven’t done anything,” I insist, but he shakes his head.

“Then why have you pushed me away?”

“Because I’m a fool.” I tentatively reach up and tuck his hair behind his ear, and his eyes finally return to mine. I spot the exact moment he caves.

“It is very hard to take you seriously when you’re dressed in that,” he scoffs, but I catch the slight tick to his lips. I offer him an apologetic grimace, taking the small concession he’s offering. “Are you ready, darling?” The rarely used pet name kicks me in the chest again, and I squeeze his arm before releasing him.

“For you to turn me into a giant rabbit? Sure. Ready as I will ever be.” He steps closer, giving me a strained smile as he leans in and presses the tiniest kiss to my lips. Magic tingles across my skin, and his expression twists to mild horror as he stares at me.

“Dear God, it’s ghastly. Straight out of my nightmares.”

“I’m getting an idea for a new torture center in Hell.” I grin as he grips me with pinched fingers, like he’s disgusted to come into contact with my body as he leads me to the mirror. The face that is reflected at me is horrific—a disproportionally giant bunny head with enormous, cartoonish eyes, a pink nose and whiskers, two buck teeth, and fuzzy, floppy ears.

“What the actual fuck is the matter with humans?” I ask and he just shakes his head, a shiver working his spine. “I’m not alone in saying this is batshit crazy, right?”

“Come on, let’s get this over with.”

“You’ll stay with me?”

“I’ll always stay with you, Xal,” he says, before his cheeks flush and his gaze darts away. “What I mean is, of course I’ll be there… for support.” Still dodging my eyes, he hands me the colossal rainbow basket. Colorful eggs fill it to the brim—plastic ones, not real ones.

Believe it or not, we did learn a thing or two from our mishaps.

The basket weighs a ton as I take it from him, and he loops his arm through mine and waits. Once I nod to confirm I’m ready, he pops us into the outskirts of an enormous park. Meet The Easter Bunny is printed on a large banner at the entrance, and I raise a brow at Micah.

He shrugs. “I thought it was a good idea to throw some marketing out into the city to gather a larger crowd.”

“Well, mission fucking accomplished,” I mutter, as I stare at the masses swarming the park. A heavy, grey sky hangs above, but the air is surprisingly warm for early April, and people are strolling about, enjoying the mild weather. “Jesus Christ, I don’t think a demon has ever been in the presence of this many children.”

“Do try not to corrupt them. Watch your mouth and mind your language. You’re on the job, not gallivanting around Hell.”

There’s my pompous prince. I make sure he’s looking at me before I give an obnoxious roll of my eyes. “Alright, boss. Where do you want me?”

Micah leads me towards a pavilion, and kids screech and shriek as they spot me. “The eggs,” he hisses, and I turn to him with my brows drawn.

“What?”

“The eggs! You need to hide the eggs!” As amusing as it is to observe him simultaneously try to scold me and smile at the humans, my annoyance flares.

“They should’ve been hidden already! If I hide them now, they can literally just watch me. It’ll be the worst egg hunt in history, because they’ll know exactly where they are.” He scowls, which means he one hundred percent hadn’t considered that, but is too proud to admit it.

“Fuck,” I groan, dragging my hand over my face. “Okay, new plan. Are there limits to your magic here?”

“Some. What do you need me to do?”

“Can you hide these with your powers?” I gesture towards the basket, and he cocks his head curiously, but nods. “Alright, follow my lead.”

We walk underneath the shadows of the pavilion. For a moment, I consider walking away and just forgetting any of this ever happened, but then I catch Micah’s eyes.

“Goddamn it, I’m so fucked,” I mutter, and I climb on top of a table.

“Attention!” Heads whip in my direction as the white noise of indistinct conversations fades to a dull murmur. “Thank you all for coming to our first official egg hunt. I’d like to take a moment to introduce myself… I am the Easter Bunny!”

Fucking crickets .

The crowd is completely silent, until a guy whispers, “I chased a guy in a BDSM bodysuit a few weeks ago that claimed the same thing,” and the other man beside him chuckles.

“The Easter Bunny isn’t real,” a kid shouts, and I narrow my eyes at the dirt-smudged smirking preteen.

“Yeah!” another snot-nosed child adds, and a chorus of them yells their agreement. My eye twitches at the sound.

Why did I agree to this, again?

“Is that so?” I ask, waiting for the devil spawns to get quiet. “Well, if I’m not real, then how do I do… this ?” I glance at Micah as I snap my fingers, and the eggs disappear from the basket.

Gasps and murmurs ring out from the crowd as I gesture towards the greenery of the park, the flowers just beginning their blooms. “Go on, then. The hunt is on!”

Children scatter and parents eyeball us warily, but soon, we’re alone in the pavilion other than a few loitering under the shade. “That was smart thinking.” Micah crosses his arms, watching the kids run and laugh as they collect the hidden eggs.

“I have my moments.”

“You have more than your moments, Xal,” he says as he reaches for me, but when my eyes meet his, he cringes and pulls away. “Nope… nope, sorry. I cannot look at you without this visceral fear telling me to flee. Coming from an Archangel, that is really saying something.”

Kids run and play as the sun peeks through the clouds, and soon many of them are returning to the picnic area to crack open their finds. Micah has such a look of pride on his face that I can’t bear to remind him that to these people, I am nothing more than another shmuck in a rabbit costume. I’m just one more person pretending to be something I’m not.

“Excuse me, could we get a picture?” a woman asks, and I turn to see her kid standing beside her with chocolate smears on his mouth and a runny nose.

“Ugh—”

“Of course!” Micah shouts over me, and I glare at him before clearing my throat and forcing a smile. Regretting every decision I’ve made in life that brought me to this point, I drop onto a bench and let the snot-nosed child scramble into my lap. To my absolute horror, a line of children forms.

One after another, the squirmy, sweaty little shits climb onto my leg while their parents snap pictures. They coo about how their overgrown sperm are so cute and being so good.

Wish someone would compliment me for eating candy and doing literally nothing.

My cheeks ache from the fake smile plastered across my lips when a young girl approaches with tears running down her face. “He’s scary,” she whines, and for the love of everything good in this universe, I do not want that weeping monstrosity anywhere close to me.

“She doesn’t have to—” I start, but her mother hooks under her arms and plops her into my lap as the child screeches unholy sounds into my ear.

“It’s just a costume,” the woman says in a sugary sweet tone. Despite the banshee-like shrieks and vibrant crimson hue of her child’s terrified face, she snaps photo after photo. Heaven for-fucking-bid her hellspawn’s tantrum deter from her Pinterest board. No better way to show you’re a great mommy than lifelong mental trauma, after all.

Micah steps over with a broad smile. “On the contrary, this is the real Easter Bunny.” The child’s screams climb in volume as I glare at him, and the mother scoffs loudly at both of us.

“Oh, now, now, boys, don’t be silly. In our house, we practice truthful parenting. We don’t lie to sweet Gracelyn, even about things like holidays.” Before I register what she’s doing, the lady walks over and grips me by the sides of my face, yanking with all her might. “Look, sweetie, it’s just… a… costume ,” she grunts as she pulls harder, dragging her fingers along my neck as she searches for a seam.

“Stop that,” I growl, yanking my head back, but she holds on as her acrylic nails dig into my neck and make me hiss.

“Just… be still and let me take it off! Why are you… fighting me?”

She tugs once more and the last thread of my patience snaps. “Stupid human, I said stop that .” The demonic distortion of my voice slips free as I bare my teeth, and Micah’s eyes get cartoonishly wide as the woman freezes. The child’s screaming comes to a sudden halt that leaves the silence roaring in my ears, and every single eye in the park lands on me.

It’s quiet for a long stretch before the mother shrieks at the top of her lungs. She snatches her child off my lap, sprinting away as the girl continues to stare at me with a thousand-yard-stare.

“Her therapy sessions are not my fault!” I bellow after the fleeing woman.

“Teeth!” Micah whisper-shouts, rushing to put his hands in front of my mouth. “Your temper broke my fucking glamour!”

It’s pandemonium as colorful baskets and eggs fly. The thunder of feet sounds like a stampede as the humans dart every which way, crashing into each other and shouting as they sprint. More than a few are sobbing as they run, and not just the children.

Micah and I watch the chaos in morbid fascination as they disappear, and soon we’re alone, surrounded by the rainbow confetti of Easter remnants.

“So, that happened,” I finally say, but Micah is silent beside me. “Do you think it was the head? Because… yeah. I’m pretty sure that was the final straw. Or the voice… probably shouldn’t have done that.” My attempt to cheer him up fails, because he just crosses his arms and gazes into the distance.

“Hey…” I take a step towards him and grab his hand. “Admittedly, that could’ve gone better, but on the bright side, we learned an important lesson.”

“Yes, we did,” Micah finally whispers. Disappointment coats him like oil, oozing down his body as he seems to shrink. The mess disappears with a distracted wave of his hand, and then the world fades around us without warning.

My brows draw as we arrive outside my building. I glance at the foot traffic who’ve done a double take at us standing here, but my attention is locked on him. Ever since the very first time he came inside with me, he’s teleported us straight into my home. Not outside, on the streets.

Our glamour has vanished, but his face isn’t right. It’s skewed and off-kilter, and wrong. “Micah?”

He drops my hand and takes a step back. “This was a mistake.”

The first crack in my heart splinters right down the middle as I stare at his impassive face. “I’m going to need more than that vague answer. What do you mean by that? What’s a mistake?”

“This… all of this. Let the humans have their mascots and make-believe idols. It was stupid of me to think I could do this.”

“But—”

“No, Xalreth,” he snarls, backing up one more step when I reach for him, and a hateful laugh rolls from his mouth. “You were right from the start. This was nothing more than a power grab by an Angel who hasn’t been relevant in centuries. Everyone knew it from the very beginning. You all fucking warned me, and I was too stubborn to listen.” Another rough laugh leaves him as he glances up towards the sky. “Pathetic. All this time, they’ve been telling me how worthless I am, and I was so fucking determined to prove them wrong that I didn’t stop to consider they might be right.”

“Don’t say that,” I snap as I lunge for him, but his power pins me in place. “So you had an idea that didn’t pan out? It happens to everyone. Failure doesn’t mean you’re worthless. Are you stubborn? Yes. Bullheaded as fuck, absolutely. But not—”

“Just stop,” he pleads. “Don’t placate me like I’m a child that needs coddling.”

“That’s not what I’m doing. I get it. I understand that you’ve never been allowed to fail—”

“Stop using that word!” he bellows, his eyes glowing with their ethereal power.

“No!” I shout back, struggling against the invisible restraints that hold me in place. “You need to fucking hear it, Micah. You need to accept that you can’t keep living your life with these unrealistic expectations of yourself. Nobody expects you to be perfect.”

“ Everybody expects me to be perfect!” The tendons in his neck pull taut as that storm in his eyes grows more dangerous than I’ve ever seen it, crackling and swirling. “The first sign of weakness, of a mistake, and they all attack. And I’ve taken it my whole fucking life, Xal. Over and over, I’ve taken it…” He stops and takes a few panting breaths in as his shoulders slouch. “I can’t take anymore,” he finally whispers, his eyes closing as his head droops.

He reaches around the back of his neck with shaky hands. “I cannot be what you need me to be. If I am destined to be a disappointment, I refuse to disappoint you .” That single crack running through my heart spiderwebs and spreads as I watch the gold chain of his choker loosen against his shimmering skin.

“Micah—” My voice cracks and he closes his eyes as he extends his hand, the necklace dangling from it. “You’re being rash. Put it back on.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers, and I snarl as he shakes his fist at me, urging me to take it like he can’t stand to hold on to it for a second longer. I snatch the chains from him and shove him against the wall.

“That’s not your fucking decision to make.” A few heads turn our way, and something shifts on Micah’s face as he senses their attention. “You don’t have the right to tell me how to feel about you. Now, if you need time to deal with this, I will give it to you, but you do not get to walk away from me. Not after everything.”

“Why do you even want me, Xal? Where do you see this going between us? God, they all called it… they recognize what I was too afraid to admit. A washed-up, pitiful fucking excuse of an Angel. It’s all I am, Xal. Is that all I’m ever going to be?” His eyes are wild as they bore into mine, dilated and storming and goddamned heartbreaking as he fists my shirt. “Tell me what you want from me, please .”

“ Angel ,” I whisper, and the words are right there.

Right fucking there, on the edge of my lips, slicing at my tongue.

But I hesitate, and that hesitation comes with a cost.

Acceptance settles over his expression, and the tiny smile he offers me splinters what’s left of my heart. “It’s okay, darling.” His hands fall to his side, though the storm in his eyes tells me he’s barely holding himself together. His eyes close again as his head thunks against the wall. “It’s all going to be okay. I only wish we’d taken the time to dance. Then at least I would’ve had that to hold onto.”

Before I can say a word to stop him, he disappears.

He leaves me, standing there clutching the chains that marked him as mine, and they might as well be an anchor with how they weigh me down. My fist squeezes around the delicate strands as I roar, and I slam it into the stone of the building so hard the skin on my knuckles splits and bleeds.

But I don’t stop.

I drive my hand into the wall.

Over and over and fucking over again, until the blood pours into my palm and coats the last piece of Micah I have left.