“What in hell’s name are we doing here again?” Zagan asked, taking in the strip club Botis insisted they visit after a tedious meal. It was nice enough, as strip clubs went, in that it had carpet on the floor and the bar was expansive. But it really wasn’t Zagan’s type of place. “If I want another drink, I can get free ones in my own club.”
“Botis thought you’d appreciate the entertainment and besides, the seating here is more comfortable than in your establishment.” Zagan wasn’t sure he would ever get a handle on Raziel; or as he was known in the Underworld, Archangel Kickass. Apparently, the angel, complete with glowing wings, totally disbanded an orgy going on among Botis’s legions not long after they claimed each other. Zagan would’ve paid good money to see that. Among humans, the angel was aloof and carried his “fuck off” vibe with class. Zagan could see the attraction even if the angel he was interested in came in a far smaller package.
“Anael works here,” Botis said, after giving their drink order to a slender human wearing nothing but a tiny pair of black shorts and a matching bow tie. “We often come for a drink in the evening, especially if Anael needs a lift home after his shift. But don’t mention his name – he’s known as Troy here.”
“The angel works here?” Zagan swiveled in his seat, trying to catch a glimpse of the perky blond. “He pours drinks for a living?” Not that Zagan’s human life was any better. He owned his club, but realistically he was no more than a glorified bartender.
“Not exactly,” Raziel said and as a strobe light flashed across the angel’s face, Zagan would swear the man was grinning. “Hush. You’ll see.”
Some idiot in a black leather jacket and slicked back hair was on the stage trying to rouse the audience for the next act. It was clear the man liked the sound of his own voice, but he’d lost the audience from the moment he’d opened his mouth. Zagan recognized a kindred spirit; the guy was ripping someone off, but before he could ask Botis if he noticed anything sinister the man backed off the stage and the lights went down.
Picking up his tumbler of whisky, Zagan realized there were worse places he could be. Coming back from the bathroom at the restaurant and finding Anael gone soured his mood more than he thought it would and even the scent of misery pouring from the waiter didn’t help. Usually, that was someone Zagan would jump on. There was nothing more fun than making a human feel worse by fucking him when he was down. But Zagan couldn’t summon the energy to be bothered. Damn angel.
Music blared from the speakers, cutting the crowd’s chatter like a knife. Glancing up at the stage, Zagan spat his mouthful of whiskey across the table. Botis grumbled as he wiped at his suit jacket and Raziel grabbed some napkins and dabbed at the mess on the table. But Zagan zeroed in on the stage.
Sitting under the spotlight, in little more than a tight t-shirt, ripped jeans and biker boots was an angel, and Zagan wasn’t seeing a trick of the light. Anael stood, his motion fluid as he kept his head down; his curls obscuring his face. The movements were sinful, designed to entice. Zagan would know him anywhere even though they’d only just met.
“You let him do stuff like this?” He spluttered, catching Raziel and Botis with matching amused faces. “He’s…he’s….” Zagan couldn’t get the words out. It was bad enough before but then Anael ripped down the center of his shirt and casually tossed it aside; keeping perfect time with the music. Lights caught on the tanned skin decorated with tattoos Zagan wanted to explore. It was intoxicating, enticing and Zagan was pulled in like a fish on a hook.
He wanted more. He wanted to see more, do more; fuck, he could watch the angel dance for hours. His cock throbbed in time to the beat and he could feel his skin heat. With his single-mindedness, Zagan could imagine Anael was dancing just for him and he couldn’t look away.
It wasn’t until Anael popped the button of his jeans and slowly lowered his zipper; his feet and hips moving all the while, that Zagan lost it. Before that, the crowd, the club, everything else was nothing more than an annoying buzz in the back of his brain. But as the crowd roared its approval, Zagan’s awareness returned and he could see the lust and avarice hovering above the audience like a toxic cloud. Leaping to his feet, he roared, “NO,” as he pushed through the crowds. His yell was loud enough to hear over the music and Anael looked up; their connection almost visible in the dim club interior.
Shock, concern. Zagan couldn’t read the other emotions flashing across Anael’s face; his view suddenly barred by two steroid filled humans with menace etched on theirs. He almost laughed. What possible harm could two humans do to a King of the Underworld? He flexed his fingers, tightening his fists. Two punches and his path to Anael would be clear.
“Don’t you dare,” Raziel hissed in his ear, his grip firm on Zagan’s biceps as Botis flanked his other side. “We’re going to walk out of here, with no harm to anyone and let Anael finish his shift.”
“But….”
“No buts, Z,” Botis snarled. “You’ve got the hots for Anael, fine. But you work out your frustrations in private. He works here.”
Not for much longer, Zagan thought as he let his friend and the angel propel him towards the exit. He didn’t know where his possessive thoughts over an angel he’d just met were coming from, but his long life told him one thing. Trust his gut. He hadn’t been imagining things when he’d seen his connection to Anael and he was damned if he was going to let Anael show off his sexy body to anyone but him at least until he’d gotten to the bottom of the thread that joined them.
/~/~/~/~/
“What the hell was all that about? I thought Raz was a friend of yours.” Of course, Anael couldn’t be left alone to relish the delicious possessiveness Zagan showed during his act. Jared was blocking his exit and didn’t show any signs of moving. It’d been a long night. Anael had only zapped four people, giving them a push to the connections they were meant for and he was tired. Really tired. It was as if when Raziel and Botis pulled Zagan outside, all Anael’s energy went with them. It was all he could do to keep up with his three subsequent performances.
“Zagan and I have just started seeing each other,” Anael said, trying to duck around Jared’s bulk. “It was nothing. He’d had a few drinks. He won’t do it again.”
“Seeing someone, as in seriously?” Jared’s laugh was laced with scorn. “Does he know the number of men you’ve left this place with?”
No, but I bet you do. Anael always suspected there was something almost stalkerish about the way Jared kept an eye on him. It was as if Jared was just waiting for someone to fuck him up so he could swoop in and save the day. And for what? It’s not as though we have a connection. “It’s been a long day. Can you excuse me?”
Jared stepped aside, but barely and Anael shivered as he brushed against the big man’s chest. There was something definitely twisted in Jared’s psyche and as he hurried out to find a taxi, Anael wondered if it was time for him to seek new employment. Botis would probably let him know if there was something dangerous about Jared, but Anael didn’t like to ask. Maybe he’d have better luck forging love connections between humans if he worked as a waiter.
Even the sight of his pristine apartment did nothing to raise his spirits. As an angel with plenty of money and magic at his disposal, Anael could have afforded a big house with plenty of land, or even his own personal island. But he wanted to be among people; he was fascinated by the resilience and tenacity of the human race. Throwing his keys on the small hall table, he wandered into his bedroom without turning on the lights.
Throwing himself on the bed, Anael shrieked as strong arms held him close. Zagan, he told himself as their connection flared to life. Flailing a bit, Anael managed to get free. Leaning over he flicked on his bedside lamp and then turned to see Zagan smirking at him.
“That’s a first,” Zagan’s smile widened. “I’ve never had an angel throw themselves at me before.”
“How did you find my address?” Anael didn’t bother asking how the demon got into his home. It wasn’t as though his doors or windows were warded.
“Lucifer gave it to me. Tell me, sweet angel, should I be concerned the Prince of Darkness knows where you live?”
“No…he…I…I tried to assist him when Raziel and Botis were in danger. I consider Lucifer a friend.” Anael hated at how easily he blushed.
“A friend?” Zagan quirked his brow and Anael’s cheeks got hotter. “You are indeed unlike any other being of the light I’ve heard of. Most steer clear of our kind.”
Probably because you’re temptation personified, Anael thought, although he couldn’t believe how comfortable it was having Zagan in his space. On his bed. The demon hadn’t bothered to change from dinner although Anael noticed he’d taken the time to remove his boots before sprawling like a buffet over his covers. The darkly tanned skin and jet-black hair contrasted beautifully with Anael’s crisp white sheets. Anael dared to move a little closer, their connection crackling across his body.
“Did you…um…why did you…didn’t you like my performance? You seemed upset at the club.”
“Botis blindsided me. I wasn’t aware you took your clothes off for a living,” Zagan said smoothly. The face was bland, but the flames in Zagan’s eyes flickered madly.
“It’s not as though I’m completely naked,” Anael wasn’t sure why he had to justify his work, but the words came tumbling out. “So many people come in groups and they actually have a connection with one of their friends. But so many times they’re too blind to see it. But I do. I can see it and when I do, I nudge them together and it’s beautiful.”
“You can see connections between people?” Zagan sat up, resting his back on the headboard. “Like lines or something?”
“Threads. Yes.” Anael nodded. “It’s my gift as the angel of passion. Not all the connections I see are positive ones of course, but they’re the ones I focus on.”
“How do you know which is which; what I mean is, how can you tell if a person’s connection with another is the right kind or not?”
Wondering if Zagan had an ulterior motive for asking, Anael said brightly, “Colors. The colors of the threads. Silver and gold are true love. You don’t see too many of them in humans. But purple means passion; blues are friendship and family and then there are the darker ones, and I am sure you know what they mean.”
“I probably see more of that kind than you do, my precious angel. What does red and gold mean?”
Anael’s eyes widened. “You saw our connection?” He thought he was the only being with that power and he doubted demons ever considered the connections others shared. But the fact that Zagan had seen their threads…He’s perfect for me.
“I saw something. It could have been a trick of the light.”
Zagan sounded so unsure and Anael rushed to reassure him. “Oh, it’s real. As real as this bed we’re sitting on. I was so excited when we met and I saw it stretching between us. I knew as soon as I heard about you, that you’d be someone special to me. But the threads confirmed it. Isn’t it wonderful? I never dreamed I’d be part of the Head Office mating scheme. You and I are the next angel demon pairing. We’ll be together forever. Aren’t you pleased?”
“That would be a ‘fuck no’.”
Anael reached out, his need to touch and give comfort overriding commonsense. But he fell forward as Zagan suddenly disappeared, leaving his nose squashed in the blankets.
“Well, that was unexpected.” Pushing himself up, Anael searched the room, but Zagan was definitely gone; only his boots resting by the side of the bed giving any indication he’d been there at all. Flopping back on the blankets, still warm from where Zagan had been, Anael let out a long sigh. “Guess love wasn’t meant to be easy, even for an angel.”