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Edge of Thorns - Pt 29Part 29
I should probably skip the obvious one for now, though I am curious...
"What are you going to say to Micah?"
The angel stopped humming, stopped walking, and turned to Nathan with a tilt of his head. "Why? Isn't it obvious?" He crossed his arms and closed his eyes. "I don't approve of their relationship, more specifically how Micah treats Alton. I intend to encourage Alton to leave him, and I want Micah to let him go." He opened his eyes, sighing as he smiled sadly. "I know neither of them will listen though."
Nathan shook his head. "I still don't understand," he said. "Aren't Michael and Lucifer supposed to be bitter enemies? I mean, I can understand why they fight; that much makes perfect sense. But how...?"
"... Did bitter enemies become intimate lovers?" Gabriel finished for him, then laughed. "Because they aren't just enemies, Nathan. They counter each other, but they also compliment each other." When all he got was another baffled stare, he explained.
Edge of Thorns - Pt 28Part 28
I should definitely learn both Alton's and Gabriel's, and as much as it worries me, I should probably learn Micah's too. You never know when that might come in handy...
"Let's go for all three!" he declared, trying to sound more confident than he felt. Alton nodded, pulling his hand towards the book and pressing it against the right page. Nathan felt... strange, the paper not feeling like paper at all, but something else, like smooth, warm silk. The left page seemed to shift, as if something was crawling underneath the paper, and then three words slowly began to appear. The script was unlike anything Nathan had ever seen, and no matter how he tried, he just couldn't look at the signatures directly. The ink faded in and out, like dye fading into water, and then the words were gone. He'd only barely glimpsed them, and yet somehow, he knew them.
Alton pulled the book away and closed it slowly, returning it to its place on the shelf while Gabriel gave Nathan's shoulde
Edge of Thorns - Pt 27Part 27
I won't leave him, but if I call for an ambulance, there's a lot of explaining I'll need to do, and it won't look good on me at all. I guess that means...
"Stay there," the writer repeated. "I'll be right back. Just... yeah..." He hurried into the kitchen, looking back until there was no way he could see Alton or Alton could see him. There was only one way he knew he could get Gabriel's attention, and he needed to do it quickly. Nathan spotted the knife block and didn't hesitate, drawing out the first knife he could get his hands on. He'd scarcely brought the blade his wrist when he felt the chill of the angel's presence.
"What did I tell you about..."
"Oh thank God!" Nathan dropped the knife and whirled around, startling Gabriel with an abrupt hug. Without any explanation he grabbed his arm, dragging him into the living room where Alton was still curled next to the coffee table. Adonis had draped himself over his owner's legs and mewed at them, and before Nathan
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
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