Micah

What the fuck is happening? Is she fucking flirting with me or what? She’s never talked to me like this. Her voice has never been so, I don’t know, sultry.

“Well…” Talia’s voice falters and it makes me angry for some mysterious reason.

“If I’m going to be your long-term treatment, you have to give me more precise instructions.”

“Keeping me warm and sane will be enough.”

“You’d have to move into my place.”

She huffs out. “You’d have to marry me first.”

At first, I’m stunned then thoughts flash through my mind. It’s not such a bad idea. It would solve all her problems.

I wink at her. “I’ll think about it.”

Talia winks back and extends her arm towards me. I hold her hand and bring it up to my lips, kissing her knuckles. She emits a joyful chuckle and some dark force spreads in my veins. I yank her hand and she jumps off the bed, swaying. I yank her hand again and she sighs as I sit her on my lap. She curls into my chest.

I hold her chin and tip her face up to mine. “You know good girls shouldn’t talk to men like this.”

“How do you know I’m a good girl?”

“You’re a very good girl, Talia.” I inhale her hot breath like it’s mine.

“And you’re a very bad man.”

“You shouldn’t flirt with me.” Her sweet and spicy scent clouds my mind as blood boils inside of me.

“You shouldn’t hold me on your lap.”

She’s right.

I shouldn’t touch her as a man would touch a woman, but here we are, sitting like lovers, gazing at each other with passion. My arms wrap around her chest and hers wrap around my neck.

“I can’t hear them at all,” Talia murmurs.

“That’s wonderful, baby girl.”

She rearranges her body so she straddles me, her knees pressed against my hips.

My heart flutters at the thought she’ll discover what she’s doing to me at the moment and I want to shove her off my lap, but, a second later, I realise I just want her to sit on my thighs forever. I want her to rub herself against my hard on. I want to have her impaled on my dick. I want her to ride me.

Her breath brushes against my ear. “You’re hard for me.” Her voice falters.

“I’m very hard for you, baby.”

I hook the back of her neck with my hand and hold her head in place. Then I slam my lips on hers. She yelps into my mouth and her fingers dig into my shoulders. I part her lips with my tongue and devour that sweet mouth of hers.

Talia

A light knocking on the door makes me shudder. I jump off Micah’s lap and lie down on my bed. The door creaks open and a slim figure walks in.

“Grandma,” I squeak and sit up, cross-legged.

Adva sweeps her eyes over Micah then over me and clears her throat. “Everything fine here?” There is a pinch of sarcasm in her voice.

“I’m fine, grandma,” I say.

Adva crosses the bedroom, her immortal body dancing almost above the red carpet spread on the concrete floor. With a graceful sweep of her tiny hand, she throws her long black hair down her back and perches on my bed. Her eyes bore through Micah as she runs her knuckles up and down my cheek.

“You look surprisingly well,” Adva says as something mischievous flickers in her cobalt eyes. “Not as pale as usual.”

Adva has been living with us since forever. My mom summoned her after she’d given birth to Yara. Adva took her grandma duties very seriously; she moved in and never mentioned anything about moving out. She’s sarcastic, prying, and the best grandma I could wish for.

“And you, Micah,” Adva says. “You look like you’ve just won a million dollars.”

Micah scratches his head. “What can I say?”

“You’d better say nothing,” Adva says, making Micah widen his eyes. “And you must finally sleep.” The words of a lullaby drift from her mouth. It’s an ancient mermaid song Adva used to sing to my mom.

My eyes grow heavy and I drop off to sleep.

Micah

This ancient mermaid stares at me like I have just perpetrated a crime on her family.

“She’s asleep,” Adva whispers. “You can go now.”

She raises herself, leans towards me and grabs my elbow. We walk out of Talia’s bedroom and go downstairs.

“Talia’s grown,” Adva says.

“Yeah, she has grown.”

My eyes sweep over the bar counter and unoccupied couches. Sabrael and Zarall are doing business; Theo must be on guard and Kadmiel is probably enjoying Rive. The girls have to study in their bedrooms in the evenings. Our club is very strict when it comes to their upbringing and education. We want our precious little gems to be intelligent young women.

Women. That word hits me. They were just babies not so long ago.

Adva yanks my elbow and I growl with irritation. I miss my wings and my powers in such moments. Adva would respect me more if I was an angel. Now that I’ve lost my wings, she thinks she can treat me like a naughty little boy. I bet she has a lot of fun at our expense.

“Hurry, pretty boy,” she says. “It’s our turn to check all the spells around the compound tonight.”

Right. The spells.

We buy them on the black market from the blackest of black witches. We used to kill those bitches, but now we have to trade with them.

We walk out of the clubhouse and part. I immerse myself into the humid air of the woods around the compound. Every spell must be intact in order to make us invisible for the angels and demons hunting us. Cold pricks my skin as I bend every ten steps and check every small mound formed by stones, bones and soil. About twenty minutes later, I see Adva meandering among the trees.

“Everything seems fine,” I say.

She nods at me. “We’ll have to buy more in two, three months.”

“You fancy going to the black market with me?”

She raises her hands in a warding gesture. “I despise witches so no, thank you. But you can always join me at night, pretty boy.”

This is not an indecent proposition.

I bet she’d keep me busy moving the furniture in her bedroom the whole night. Everybody knows Adva stays far away from men.

I laugh. “I’m busy tonight.”

“Busy plotting how to kiss more lipstick off Talia’s lips?” Her voice is part serious part coated with humour.

“You always poke your nose into other people’s affairs, Adva.”

“This is my job as a grandmother.” She loops her arm through mine as we saunter towards the clubhouse. “Talia needs a good husband, Micah.”

“All the girls will need husbands soon.”

“All the girls except Talia need to say bye-bye to that tyrant who’s their father.”

I erupt into laughter. “Kadmiel is just trying to keep them alive.”

“Yeah, really? If he could, he would forbid them to grow up. But returning to the main point of our conversation.” She stops and looks up at me. “Take Talia as yours. She’s come of age. She’s ready.”

“I need to speak to Kadmiel first. He’s my president.”

“So you’re not denying that you have feelings for my granddaughter?”

“You old witch—“

“I just want to know the facts.” She rises on her tiptoes, pulling my arm down and planting a kiss on my cheek. “Take Talia without being permitted. Kadmiel won’t allow you to take her any time this millennium.”

“I need to think about it.”

“Just a piece of advice from a friend.”

She walks off.

I stay outside the clubhouse for a few minutes, wondering what just happened. Am I really thinking about marrying my Talia?

I am. I’m her only chance for some normality in life.

What if she was like her sisters? What if she had a choice in life?

She doesn’t. I feel like my stomach is filling with something cold and slimy. I’m Talia’s only choice. Does that make me a good or a bad man? Or just a lonely old man who wants a woman by his side?

I’m more than six hundred years old. I feel old even though I don’t age and I look about twenty-five in human terms.

I’m lonely as hell and it gets worse with each year that passes. I want to love as passionately as Kadmiel loves his wife. I envy him sometimes. I want kids. I want boring life problems.

I step into the building that’s been my home for all these years. My eyes meet Kadmiel’s grey ones from across the room and I feel like I’m violating the peace of his family.

I drop into the couch beside my president. He hands me a bottle of beer, contentment written on his face. Rive must be sleeping upstairs, totally exhausted. Kadmiel usually comes down to have a snack and goes back to her at once. He’ll have beer with us once or twice a month. Right, he has a family, and we haven’t.

“The spells are okay?” he asks.

“Each in a perfect condition.”

He looks over his shoulder. We’re the only occupants of the room.

“Theo and I had a chat,” he starts.

“About this new recipe for moonshine?”

“No.” Kadmiel takes a sip of his beer. “He came to ask me for Talia’s hand in marriage.”

I whistle. “Really?” Rage creeps into my veins like venom.