Page 4 of Hazel’s Choice (A Monstrous World: Next Gen)
Chapter Three
Zephyr
I ’m afraid this will be a wasted endeavor. The poor witch looks as if she doesn’t have a brain cell to spare. The vacant expression on her face as she blinks up at me isn’t unusual. Humans and lesser supernatural beings often become overwhelmed in my presence.
Several thousand years ago, I soaked up the adoration. Who wouldn’t want to be treated as a god?
Me, apparently.
It got old long ago.
“You work here, I assume,” I say slowly.
Dealing with humans, witches, and shifters is always tedious.
“Uh, yeah. I do.”
“Excellent.” I smile. “Do you have the ability to scry? And if not, where can I find a witch with that power?”
“Me?” Her long dark hair falls around her pert breasts as she points at her chest, almost as if she’s asking if I’m speaking to her.
She’s utterly stunning, but what I need is her intelligence and magical gifts.
Her thin, see-through cardigan flows as she moves to shove her hair behind her ear. Maybe that’s called a shawl? No. It has actual arm holes. It’s silky, almost like a gauzy curtain or a nightgown, and it covers a tight black spaghetti strap top.
“Yes, you, little witch. I need you to focus,” I say to keep myself on track.
I believe I was about to peek over the glass counter to find out what she’s wearing below that tiny top.
A short skirt?
Skin-tight jeans?
None of it matters.
I have a job to do.
“I need to locate a creature. It’s something I’ve never seen before, and it’s dangerous. Unafraid to kill an angel. Do you understand what I’m saying?” I do my best to keep my tone level, but my patience is running thin.
Her mouth opens and closes several times in quick succession, and I believe the severity of the situation is finally sinking in.
Only she continues to blink with a vacant look on her face that I would find humorous if my circumstances weren’t so dire.
Each additional day the creature walks free gives it more opportunities to kill innocents.
Everything I’ve sensed says the monster is female, but in all my long years, I’ve never seen anything like whatever killed Levi. I only got the briefest glimpse of it before it siphoned away, and I can still safely say that it wasn’t a reaper or a nightmare.
I’ve faced those down over the centuries.
This was something much more ancient.
It must have escaped Hell recently, but it has no place here. I’ll be the one to dispatch it back to the bowels of Hell.
It’s unfortunate that some beings are truly immortal. Even if I slaughter it in this realm, it will simply respawn in the pit in Hell to be recycled. Although, from what I’ve heard, all of its memories will be wiped clean.
That will have to be enough. Hopefully the reset will allow it to choose a different path after its years of penance.
“Do you have anything that belongs to this creature?” the witch asks. “A hair or a piece of clothing? Fingernails could work in a pinch.”
My head hangs as it shakes. “I do not. Nothing tangible. Is there somewhere we could sit and talk?”
She takes a step back, and her large blue eyes widen almost comically.
I’m sure this small-town witch does find it shocking that an angel could need a favor, but I need her to get with the program.
“Yeah, we have a consultation table.” She tosses her thumb over her shoulder. “It’s right back here. Just come around the counter.”
I nod and skirt past the glass enclosure that houses many small relics and trinkets. “What’s your name?”
“H-Hazel,” she stutters. “I’m Hazel.” She grabs the back of the cushioned chair on the opposite side of the table.
Taking the seat across from it will mean my back is to the door, which is always a poor strategy when it comes to situational awareness. However I have no enemies in this town. At least none that I know of.
“Zephyrus.” I bow my head in a show of respect. “You may call me Zephyr.”
The quirky witch bounces in her seat, looking anywhere but into my eyes. It’s to be expected. The level of dominance in my gaze makes it difficult for lesser beings to hold eye contact. That doesn’t explain why my stomach twists strangely at seeing how uncomfortable she is by my presence.
Humans, witches, shifters, and fae often fall into one of two categories. Either they offer deference—never meeting my eyes, and occasionally hitting their knees or bowing to show their respect—or they fawn and flirt and throw themselves at me because they want to fuck an angel.
It’s not strictly prohibited behavior to engage intimately with beings in the human realm, but it is looked down upon in angel culture.
Giving in to your base desires shows a level of weakness.
There’s also a much larger possibility of half breeds being born than there is when angels engage in sexual activity with one another.
And while sentinels might be the descendants of my species, they’re not looked upon kindly by the vast majority of angels.
I hold no such ill will, and two of my closest friends in this realm are sentinels. Simon and Josiah are on the same quest to find the creature that killed Levi, but our paths have diverged for the moment.
“Okay, I get that you want to find this creature, as you called it. That would usually require one of their possessions, which you mentioned you don’t have.” Her voice comes out low and almost smoky. It’s a much more enjoyable tone than the high-pitched sputtering from earlier.
She’s clearly less alarmed, which must mean I’ve managed to set her at ease. That doesn’t mean she’ll be open to allowing me to show her my memory of the monster. It’s somewhat of an intimate exchange, even if it requires no sexual contact.
“What if I were to share a memory with you?” I ask, clearing my throat. “I believe you’ll be able to access the creature’s soul vibration pattern if I’m successful. Would you be able to use that in place of a physical representation?”
“I have no idea, but I don’t think so.” Her head shakes, making her long dark hair fall around her shoulders.
She tucks it behind her ear, and her bright blue eyes meet mine.
“That’s not really how my magic works. Maybe you could find an older witch or warlock who would be able to craft a spell to fit that, but I don’t have the skill or know-how to go about something like that. ”
“Who else works here?” I ask, glancing around.
“The owner is Lisette.” Hazel offers a tight smile, like maybe she’s embarrassed she doesn’t have the power level necessary to meet my request. “I can leave a note for her to contact you when she comes in?”
I sigh, shaking my head. “No ill consequences will come to you from trying. Won’t you at least attempt what I’m suggesting? I’ll pay you handsomely.”
“It’s not about money,” she says with a firmness to her voice that she hasn’t shown yet. “I don’t think what you’re suggesting is even physically possible. Why don’t we try a card reading instead?” She reaches for the tarot deck, and I stretch across the table, placing my hand on top of hers.
My skin buzzes, a current passing between us that almost feels like I’ve been zapped with electricity.
Hazel’s eyes widen, and every cell in my being says that she experienced the shock too.
The bell above the door jingles.
My head whips to the side to check for threats, and my lip curls back at the sight of the incubus.
He siphons across the room and reappears behind Hazel’s chair. “Baby doll, are you standing me up to make googly eyes at an angel?”
Yanking my hand from the witch’s, I shove my seat back and stand.
Not all incubi have the ability to siphon, but this must be a High Lord of Hell.
Angels and demons have an almost clichéd distaste for one another, and I don’t like that he’s of a similar power level to me.
Even if we’re close in ranking, being an archangel is much more glamorous than being a High Lord of deviant sex demons.
At least in my humble opinion.
My hand shakes as I fight the urge to call my blade from the ether, but that would be a drastic overreaction.
The demon leans over Hazel’s shoulder, pulling her hair to the side and getting close to her ear. “Did you get caught up with work and forget about me?”
“What?” the little witch sputters.
That poor woman.
She’s easily confused. All she’s done since I’ve met her is stutter. She seems to lack the ability to keep up with what’s happening around her.
Could he be using his deviant sex magic to keep her docile and compliant?
“It’s okay. I forgive you.” The demon chuckles, planting an obnoxious kiss on her cheek. “Angels are always nice to look at. It’s the giant stick up their asses that makes them less than fun at a party.”
My eyes narrow.
Sending this waste of space back to Hell will do nothing to help me attain my goal of locating the monster that killed Levi.
As such, I catch the witch’s gaze. “I’ll stop by again soon.”
And with that, I spin on my heels and slowly walk to the exit. It shows the demon that I’m not afraid to give him my back, and I also refuse to walk any faster just to be free of him.
It’s a shame the witch has made her allegiance known. It’s even more unfortunate that she’s chosen the wrong side. She is beautiful, but to collude with an incubus is unfortunate at best and distasteful at the worst.