Nothing Stays Dead in the South

IX

Storming into my own house like an errant teenager, Azrael is hot on my heels calling after me with a sense of command that he hasn’t earned. I glide around the corner into the large, ornately decorated office space to find Miriam and Cole hovering over an impressive setup of various items scattered across the civil war era desk. I recognize the sage, raven feathers, and a large ornate copper bowl full of ashes as things we carry at La Botie Magique.

Both of them lifted their eyes to meet mine at my unceremonious entrance. I press my finger into Cole’s perfectly pressed chest with defiance burning in my eyes.

“I trusted you! Both of you!” I turn to catch Miriam with a contrite look on her face, and although Cole looks regretful, he looks past me to Azrael.

“Can you please talk to her, Az?”

An exasperated sigh leaves Azrael’s lips. “I’m trying.”

Gripping me gently below the elbow Azrael yanks me around so I’m facing him. “Jo, we’ll tell you what we can but I need you to calm down.” I feel my anger ebb at the suggestion as my gaze settles into his. He senses my acquiescence and just nods.

“Thank you. Can you take her upstairs to her room so that Mimi and I can finish down here? Her anxious energy is mucking up the spell.”

Azrael’s gaze never leaves mine while Cole is speaking. “Ok punkin, let’s go upstairs, okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” I sigh, drifting toward the stairs, Azrael behind me. When we make it to my bedroom, I gesture for him to enter ahead of me before stalking in behind him and closing the door. No sooner does the door click shut do I feel my anger returning just as intensely as before.

“What exactly do you keep doing to me? With your eyes? Why am I all… plaint?”

While I’m confronting him, he’s standing by my drawing desk, shuffling through a pile of sketches. Most of them are of him, but he doesn't seem surprised by it. He seems to be the only thing I can draw. I fight the urge to go to him because I can’t seem to think clearly in his presence as it is and if I’m going to keep any sort of clear head throughout this discussion I needed to stay as far away from him as possible.

“Well, if you were a normal human, like your Uber driver, I could actually fully control your mind. As it is, I can only be slightly suggestive. You’ll bend to my will, but you know you’re doing it and you’ll remember what happens.”

I lift a perfectly manicured brow in his direction. “You mind control people? That is so f****d up.” I throw my arms in the air dramatically. “You were mind-controlling me? What the f**k Azrael?!”

He clears his throat and struggles to contain a smirk brewing at my outrage. “It’s nothing personal. It’s just how we are.”

I let myself fall onto my mattress, leaving my chucks firmly on the carpet and pressing my hands to my face before running them back through my hair. Mind control? And Miriam is doing spells? What the f**k have I gotten in the middle of?

“What spell is Miriam doing in my office?”

His eyes trail off to the side, but instead of it reading as an attempt to be underhanded it seems more likely that he’s just trying to make me feel more confident in the fact that my thoughts are my own throughout this conversation.

“Technically, it’s been Coles office for the last century or so. He even picked out the desk.” Catching irritation flaming in my features he wisely moves on to answer my question.

“It’s a protection spell.” He leaves it at that. As though that were any sort of actual explanation.

I flash him a look of undiluted aggravation. “You just commanded everyone to set up base camp in my house so I think you can give me a little more than that.”

“Technically the house is yours, but the property is….. a long story we can go into later. The spell Miriam is doing is to keep werewolves out of the house much the way that vampires would usually be kept out of your house.”

He observes me tentatively, tucking his fingers through his belt loops as he watches the blows land mentally, one by one. I bring my fingertips up to massage the ache forming behind my temples. The torrent of information must be liquifying my brain.

“Ok. Let’s start with werewolves…” I wave my hand in a circular motion in the air, urging him to elaborate on the topic.

He eyes the highback chair I have in the corner of my room, picking up the bra that was thrown haphazardly across the arm, to my utter mortification, before giving me a wink. “I love pink lace,” he murmurs in a teasing tone before dropping it on my dresser and sitting down in the chair with his elbows propped on his knees. He somehow looked even more delectable than he did five seconds ago. I suck my lip between my teeth at the realization.

“Werewolves.... Some of the lore is true. They turn into actual wolves, hence your visitors the other night. Silver is their downfall just like in the monster movies - but the bit about the full moon is slightly off. They can shift anytime, but the closer we get to a full moon, the stronger they become. And, they have to shift on the full moon.”

I chew over the information and spit a question back to him. “If they bite me…?”

“Then you’ll have a nasty dog bite. It’s genetic. Not a common cold. The bites are excruciating, though. Something about the saliva. And Vampires cannot drink from them. It’s this whole Exorcist situation. We get sick.”

I smile despite myself at the joke he cracked. His stoic demeanor means that it’s rare to catch a glimpse of the playful side of him, but no one can be that intense twenty-four-seven. Not even Azrael.

“Ok, so how are you guys in my house. You said vampires can’t come in the house. I’m guessing that’s usually true?”

“You actually invited both me and my brother in. Getting the rest of the staff in without a formal invitation was a little tricky. It required a few spells.”

My Staff? Spells... I roll my eyes at the mention of the other nugget of knowledge I’ve found out in the last hour. “Witches. The magic. It’s real?”

He squints one eye looking to the ceiling as though trying to figure out the best way to present the next bit of information. “Yes and no. Magic is real. Witches are real. But not everyone who thinks they’re witches actually are witches, and not everyone who thinks they’re doing magic are actually doing magic.”

We sit together in companionable silence for a beat while I look out onto the attached balcony, catching a glimpse of some crows playing in the trees. Azrael must see the forlorn look on my face because he stands from the chair crossing the room to hitch up a leg, and joining me beside me on my bed.

“I know. This is a lot. I was hoping we could ease you into all of this a little easier.”

The pull inside me is more intense when he’s this close to me, lighting the blood in my veins aflame. His gaze drops to my mouth for a moment and my core contracts at the gesture

.

“Why do the wolves want me, Azrael?” My voice sounds small, even to my ears. He sets his mouth in a hard line, lifting his hand, he tucks some of the stray dark locks behind my ears, before letting his hand find a home at my nape, gripping firmly.

“That’s complicated, Jo.”

He says that it’s complicated as though everything else that we’ve covered in the last two hours was child’s play. A few hours ago I was trying dresses on at the mall. My biggest concern was the appointment I was supposed to have later this evening with the accountant. I’m assuming that’s canceled. Unless he’s the Creature from the Black Lagoon, or Godzilla or something. Might as well make it a real party.

“Can you uncomplicate it?” I ask. He must hear something in my voice convincing him to make more of an effort because he drops his hand from my neck, gathering both my hands in his as I turn to face him completely.

“There’s a prophecy. Werewolves and vampires have always been at odds over the centuries. It’s not that there hasn’t been the odd alliance here or there - but it’s always been us against them, in general.” He takes a deep breath, meeting my gaze again, a softness easing around his eyes.

“The prophecy says that either a vampire or werewolf will spawn a child with a God, and that child will ultimately reign supreme over all lower beings. A hybrid, of sorts. Obviously, vampires would like the progeny to be theirs and the wolves would like it to be theirs. And, it just so happens that this is all happening right here, right now.”

The weight of what Azrael just explained falls over me like a thick blanket of smoke, thickening the air in the room, and making it hard to breathe. I didn’t know any of this existed and now I’m at ground zero for some super-war?

“Az, I don’t get what that has to do with me, though.”

He squeezes my fingers tightly, dropping his gaze to our intertwined hands before shifting to look me dead in the eye.

“You’re the God.”