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Chapter Five

For the second day in a row, I slept in Arthur’s bed. It smelled like him. I knew that it was weird that I was kind of sniffing his sheets, but they smelled good. I didn’t know how to describe the aroma other than that. Maybe angels and Nephilim had a natural scent, and this was it. Or he just had great taste in cologne.

I curled up in the sheets, not wanting to leave. I was afraid that if I dared step out of the safe haven, my world would come crashing down. So I decided that I’d probably stay in his bed for the rest of the day. He’d probably be too nice and wouldn’t kick me out.

I mean, I felt sort of bad. The couch didn’t seem like it was all that comfortable for him. I had barely fit in it myself. And he’d also given me a spare shirt to wear because mine was covered with blood. I mean, I could’ve just gone up to my apartment, but I didn’t want to.

Arthur understood my selfishness and wordlessly assisted me.

It was pretty great.

I’d never really had anyone in my life who took care of me. My parents probably had, but I was too young to remember what it felt like. I’d been on my own for a while. The foster homes didn’t count.

I rolled over again, burying my face in the pillow.

“Cam?” Arthur knocked quietly on the door.

Uh-oh. Was he here to kick me out? I squeezed my eyes shot in hopes that he would go away because he thought that I was still asleep. It was juvenile, but it was the best that I could think of on the fly. My hair (I really should’ve gotten it got cut) fell in front of my nose, making it itch. I wiggled my nose furiously, mustering up all the strength I had to make the lock move.

I heard the door creak open and Arthur walk in. “Cam,” he sighed my name, “I know that you’re awake. I heard you.”

I shifted then, immediately giving up. “What?” I muttered. “Are you going to tell me to get out?”

“No,” he answered. “I have to go to work.”

“What?” I sat up then, looking at him. Woah, Arthur looked good in a suit. I stared at him for a moment, appreciating the view. Back to business. “You have a job?” Did Nephilim have to work? Was that, like, a thing? I felt like it was a sin to make a holy being work.

“I have to pay for rent, don’t I?”

I scowled. “Aren’t you rich?”

Arthur didn’t respond. Instead, his gaze flickered to the side. I noticed that he did that when he didn’t want to talk about a subject. It was kind of cute.

Anyway, I took it as a yes.

I lowered myself back down onto the soft pillow. “If you have money, why work?”

“Because I want to,” he answered tersely.

Valid. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t work. I just... couldn’t imagine why on earth a divine being would want do such a mundane task. “What do you do?”

“I’m an accountant.”

I snorted, picturing Arthur hunched over a desk and typing away on a computer. “It doesn’t suit you.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed. “What suits me, then?” he sounded amused.

“World-renowned male supermodel,” I said. “Or a CEO of some mega multibillion company.”

“You’re aiming pretty high for me.”

I almost said that he was meant for living the high life, but stopped myself. I changed the topic, instead, “What’s in the bag?”

“Oh, I bought you a toothbrush and some deodorant,” he explained. “I didn’t know how your strength was holding up and if you’d be able to make it upstairs. I healed your physical wounds but...”

How nice of him. I wouldn’t have expected anything less. “Yeah, I don’t think I’m up to it,” I lied. I felt fine, actually. Well, fine as anyone could be after going through a near-death-would’ve-died-if-a-Nephilim-didn’t-save-me experience. I just didn’t want to leave, not yet. Unlike the last time, I knew that we’d continue talking to each other... become friends, maybe. It was the first time in my entire life that I would become friends with someone who knew what I was.

Arthur nodded his head. “Also, for your peace of mind, there’s no way that a demon can enter this apartment complex without me knowing. And if they do, I’ll be here immediately.”

“So, it’s safe here?” I questioned. I wrapped my arms around my body, thinking about Coffee Guy. Arthur had said that he was a low-level demon, hadn’t he? I didn’t want to meet Coffee Guy’s superiors; he had been scary enough.

He smiled; I wouldn’t be surprised if sunlight started radiating from it. “One hundred percent.”

I tried to smile back at him, but I didn’t have the strength to muster up a fake one. I was remembering everything in full force. My hands gripped my stomach, feeling the skin that been punctured by his fingers. “Ugh...” I groaned, a headache starting to pound at my temples.

Arthur’s brows furrowed. “Cam, what’s wrong?” He leaned forward, his large hand resting on my shoulder through the covers. “Is it... that?”

Was he talking about the urge to scream? “No, it’s nothing. Go to work, I’ll be fine.”

“Ca--”

“Seriously, Arthur, I’ll be all right. Go. Don’t be late.”

He sat up. “Okay, just... be safe. Send me a text if you leave the complex, so that I know.”

I nodded my head and watched Arthur leave, saw the worried glance that he threw back at me before shutting the door.

Ignoring the pain from my headache, I finally made the executive decision to get out of the bed. With a deep sigh, I trekked over to the bathroom after I snatched up the bag of toiletries. It was cold outside of the warm sheets.

And once again, I found myself faced with the mirror in his bathroom. There was zero improvement in my appearance. Actually, it was worse. My long, dark hair was matted with blood and dirt, and there was a slight bruising on my neck that Arthur hadn’t healed or noticed. Maybe he didn’t think it was significant enough. But it was embarrassing. I was going to have to wear a turtleneck when I went to work later so no one (especially Quinn) would ask questions.

The bags under my jade eyes had deepened; I was beginning to truly look like a corpse. I pulled the skin, seeing how bad it truly was. Yikes, was all I could think. I could play a zombie with no set makeup and be believable. I pressed my hand against my forehead, massaging my temples as I thought.

Today... I didn’t go in until twelve PM. I didn’t know what time it was, to be honest, but I figured that I still had time before I actually had to go to work. I sighed and worked on freeing the toothbrush from its plastic prison.

As I brushed my teeth, I stared at myself in the mirror. Life was going well and terribly at the same time. There was a guy I was kind of interested in (which hadn’t happened in a long time), but at the same time, because of that guy, my life was in danger. And this time, I wasn’t my own enemy. Which was weird, because I normally was against myself.

I spat into the sink, watching the frothy substance slide down into the drain. It seemed like the perfect metaphor for my life. I turned on the faucet to clean the sink and rinse out my mouth.

What if Arthur wasn’t strong enough to protect us? I mean, he said he had taken more from his father than his mother, but that didn’t really have any value to me. I knew that it meant that he was strong, but, like I said, no one knew much about the Nephilim.

I didn’t know how old he was. How long he had been fighting for his life. And when dealing with immortal beings, judging by appearances was worthless. There were some vampires that masked themselves as children when they were thousands of years old, to serve as an example.

So there was that. And on the flip side, I was kind of crushing on him. Because he was handsome and nice. It was stupid and childish--I was twenty-four and too old to have crushes on boys--and I was fully aware of that, but I didn’t really care. It was nice to have someone who made my heart beat a little faster, even if I had only known him for a day.

I shook my head softly, knowing that nothing would blossom between us. Arthur was this strong, powerful Nephilim who battled demons and I was a weak banshee with serious emotional baggage.

But it was whatever, I guess. At least we could be friends, or, at least I hoped we could.

I stripped my--Arthur’s--clothes off and stepped into the shower, allowing the hot water to rain down on me. I should’ve taken a shower last night before sleeping in his bed (he was definitely going to have to throw the sheets out or wash them a lot), but I had been too tired to do so. Between work and almost being murdered by a psychotic demon, it had truly been the last thing on my mind.

The water turned pink as it ran down my body and hair, swirling down the drain. Washing off my own blood was the oddest sensation. I had never done it before. Or, cleaned off anyone’s blood for that matter. New horizons, I suppose. Anyway, I was hoping this wasn’t going to become a regular occurrence.

Both the blood and attacking demons thing.

With a heavy heart and clean body, I turned off the shower head and went to go dry off. And since Arthur didn’t have a hair dryer, I had to dry it off the best I could with my damp towel before brushing it (it took me a while to find the brush, too; I hated neat people).

Going outside with wet hair wasn’t the dream, but it’d have to suffice so that I could get to work. I--unashamedly--borrowed another one of Arthur’s t-shirts and wore the sweatpants he had loaned me to sleep in. I had to pull the sweatpants all the way up to under my boobs and tie as tightly as I could so that I didn’t have fifty thousand feet of fabric pooling at my feet. And the shirt was practically a dress on me, too. I could’ve easily gone up to my apartment to get clothes that fit, but I didn’t want to. Plain and simple.

I already had to leave for work--I discovered that it was 11:10--and that was bad enough. I grabbed my things that I needed, which consisted of virtually nothing, and left the apartment.

I really hoped that Quinn wasn’t working today. I wouldn’t be able to deal with her attitude, like, at all. We’d probably get in a fist fight if she tried to start with me, or spoke in general. I knew that she was working. For sure. Her days off were on Sunday and Wednesday and today was Friday.

Groaning inwardly, I pushed the front doors open and headed outside, towards the bus stop.

I wouldn’t say that it happened immediately. I took a few steps before I froze completely. A violent shiver rocked my body, and it wasn’t from the cold wind. I felt eyes on me. Piercing gazes, all focused on me. Watching, observing, analyzing. My hair raised and needles prickled at my skin, followed by an itching sensation.

My throat started to tighten up and closed off air flow, which, after a while, caused my lungs to start burning with fire. I needed air. I couldn’t breathe. Tears started forming in my eyes from the lack of oxygen, my head feeling light.

And they were still watching me. Their stares stabbing into me. It was too much. All of it was crashing down onto me at once.

I managed to turn around and move my body, running back into the building where their gazes couldn’t reach me. Once inside, where I knew it was safe, the lock on my throat released and I was able to take in large gulps of precious air.

The pain subsided and my knees went weak, causing me to fall to the ground while still taking in deep breaths. People looked over at me, but I didn’t really care. I just needed a moment to regain full control over my body.

When I was able to stand, I did so, also picking up my keys that I had dropped onto the floor. I dusted off my sweatpants, making a mental note of how dirty entrances were. I threw a glance back outside, wondering what had taken over me, and found myself overcome with a powerful wave of nausea.

I sprinted for the bathroom, feeling the bile rise up and make my mouth water sickeningly. The lobby bathroom was pretty nicely decorated, I thought to myself as I burst into one of the stalls and puked my guts out. But since I hadn’t eaten in awhile, there was nothing for me to vomit except for liquid and leftover food bits.

When I finished, I hung my head over the toilet, allowing the spit to finish draining from my mouth.

“Ugh,” I gagged, spitting a couple of times before standing up and wiping my mouth. To my surprise, my hand came away with blood streaked on it. I looked down at the toilet that I hadn’t flushed yet, not seeing any red in the vomit. “What the...”

I walked over to the sink to wash my hands, and found myself shocked by what I saw in the mirror. The gash on my chin from last night was back. I hadn’t seen it before, so where had it suddenly come from? Blood dripped down my chin, landing on the white porcelain sink.

My hands found my neck, pulling down the collar of my jacket and revealing dark bruises against my pale skin in the shape of fingers. I gasped, quickly releasing the fabric so that the marks would be covered.

Okay. That was weird. I remembered seeing them this morning, but they were faded, hardly noticeable. That’s when I noticed the sharp pain in my abdomen. I lifted my jacket and shirt, peering down at my stomach only to see a large hole gushing blood.

A squeak escaped me and I dropped my clothes back down. Then I was running again, clutching the wound like it would help me as I made my way to the elevators. I tapped foot, impatiently, feeling the strength being siphoned from my body with every passing second.

I didn’t think that I would even make it to my apartment before collapsing. But I managed to somehow, stumbling into my apartment with blood slowly oozing down my legs. Luckily, only a few drops had actually spilled--my oversized clothing soaked up most of it.

Black swam within my vision; it was hard to see anything. I collapsed onto the couch, thinking about Arthur. I could’ve call him. He said that he would be here instantly if a demon came, so why would this be any different? But, honestly, I didn’t feel like fighting it.

He was a good person. He tried his best to save and protect me. That was enough. I’d die here. Quietly, able to accept it this time. I wasn’t necessarily dying on my own terms, but it was close enough that the difference was negligible.

I closed my eyes for a second--I hadn’t even fallen asleep yet--when the urge to scream tore through me. It happened so quickly that I didn’t even have enough time to fight against it, the scream just ripped through my throat and out of my mouth.

The moment that it was finished, I didn’t have any energy left to even be upset about it, and I immediately fell asleep.