Cultivating the Holy by Orin Drake It's... something, alright.
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Chapter 7 Twilight fell over them as the last song played. They'd made minimal stops, for gas and the occasional bathroom, and hadn't found any need to eat since the feast that morning. Eric, enjoying the use of his favored name, let silence pass for a while after the music faded out. It was the only way to enjoy that kind of audio overload for the first time, to just sort of let it roll around in your head as wine over your tongue. And enjoy it she did. She'd never even been aware that sort of thing existed... but it was such an appreciated beauty. A beauty she knew must have existed somewhere... but not so close to humanity. Not from what she knew of it, anyway. "I don't want to bother you..." the doctor started out, quietly. His sentiment was heartfelt... but not entirely true. He was naturally curious. Presented with the possibilities of answers to his questions was just too hard to pass up. She'd suspected as much. And, strangely, she didn't really mind. "Go ahead." She responded in her usual dark tone. He grinned with his teeth showing. It was nice to get to know a few other aspects of her personality, anyway. Kind of a... weird thing. She certainly wasn't unattractive... but he didn't feel that kind of pull toward her. Nor was it like a sibling, and not even that of a best friend. It was almost... almost knight-like. Defending the lady. How... weird. "The concept of grace..." She made a soft, amused sound in her throat... but didn't feel much like giving in to the humor. "I'm afraid I don't know much of it." The grin slid off of his face. "Ah." There was a shared understanding, there. Conditional versus unconditional, love and grace... "Never had a pet, huh?" She swallowed the bitterness that threatened to spill from her tongue. There was no need to take it out on him, after all. "No. We weren't allowed around animals. They'd... react to us." Strange thoughts, those. There'd been a cat loose in the building she'd lived in--what a wonderful thought to be rid of that place--who had seen her once. A creature that even approached her, it as curious as any thinking being... but it sensed her wrongness. Her unnaturalness that she had not yet learned how to control. At once, it loved and hated, understood and then did not understand... Animal Control had said it suffered from a massive nervous system failure, possibly brought on by the aneurysm. But really... it'd just been torn apart by understanding. Animals knew. They were a lot more sensitive to... that sort of thing than people were. It was sheer instinct as opposed to learned logic. "I like them, though." The sadness in her voice caught him a little off-guard. "Bad experience?" She didn't really want to explain. "Something like that." It was better not explored, perhaps. "Animals... are grace. But humans... aren't... compassionate." Yes, animals in the wild tore one another apart. But humans had no need to do so... and therefore had no excuse to be cruel. "They aren't generally decent to one another." He agreed, quietly. "I can't imagine how they must react to something that they must view as... 'above them'..." That was funny, somehow. Not quite enough to break the mood, but appreciated. "You've seen enough." "I've seen the effects. Never... first-hand." He swallowed, wondering... and finding no reason why he shouldn't ask. Even if she wasn't willing to answer. "What... happened to you? Exactly?" She shut her eyes tightly to the world with the memories. Not that she'd ever been one full of hope... but there had been a time before... She didn't want to remember, certainly didn't want to talk about it... but he'd asked. Her voice was cracked, sounding raw and abused. Softly, slowly, painfully... "I... had wings." His eyes widened, the car's control nearly slipping from him entirely. He caught the wheel in his grip again, righting their path... but the mental images would not leave him--he knew immediately. They'd taken her wings. The bastards had taken her wings. He made quick work of pulling the car to the side of the road, a frighteningly slow-burning rage racing through his blood. He turned to her, not meaning for the look of hatred in his eyes to be directed at her. He grasped her hand, paying no attention to the cars beeping as they zoomed past due to the quick lane changes. Nothing else existed. She felt... compelled. Unable to make eye contact, but absolutely compelled to speak... to continue. She'd never spoken to anyone about it... never had the desire to express it... "They were broken, first... then cut..." He dropped her hand, too afraid that he might accidentally crush it. Never in his life had he felt that... strongly. About anything. He knew she'd killed people. And yes, maybe if the laws of spirit and man made any sense, she deserved a punishment... but that? That?! "Who?" She finally met his eyes, a delicate worry meeting his hate measure for measure. "I don't know his name." But she did find out rather quickly that he was an expert in torture. That much didn't need to be said to read it in her gaze. He'd never been so disturbed in his life. No amount of sick shit regarding human nature that he'd ever known about before... it just... it couldn't be so... easy... "Do you all... have wings?" That's what made it worse... so much worse... and she knew he'd feel the same way. She didn't want to answer him, tried to drop the subject entirely--but he wouldn't let her turn away. "No. It's... rare." Fire, again--insane rage. His voice held only a hint of what was in his eyes, forcing himself to stay calm, stay coherent. "How rare?" "Very rare." She simplified, unwilling to go on. They'd once been praised as an accomplishment, those wings... the staff had seemed very proud of themselves for having been able to breed a stable nephilim with wings. Full, feathered, white wings. So white that she could still see the blood on them when she closed her eyes, sometimes... And they were cut from her. Severed from her body. As... punishment. That went so far beyond making no sense... Glad the seats weren't so far apart, the car made in the days before SUVs had decided people in the front seats needed to be separated by all kinds of unnecessary bullshit, he pulled her toward himself. He felt every muscle of her body trembling; it was all he could do. Offer some comfort, some safety... some real compassion. Embracing didn't come naturally to her. It wasn't that she hadn't seen it happen on the street and on television. She knew what it meant and what it could mean. And it certainly wasn't that she couldn't enjoy the sensation of being embraced... but, when it was suddenly happening, she had no idea how to react. Nothing about it was natural in her own experience. It didn't matter. He'd more than gotten the impression she hadn't been close to anyone. What a lonely childhood it must have been... a lonely life. Painful, confusing... Far worse than anything humans went through, he was certain. "We should get to a hotel." She whispered, her throat stinging. Mid-way between tears and some other unknown but potent emotional response. He sighed deeply... aware suddenly of the knowledge that neither of them had showered since he'd taken her away, and of the fact that her scent showed no sign of it. Maybe he ought to apologize for that one... though it didn't ultimately seem important. "Yeah." He agreed, finally. He didn't want to pull away... She carefully grasped his arms in show of appreciation. It was almost a returning embrace... but she knew she'd need some practice. "How can you live with it?" he found his voice far softer than he thought it would turn out to be. There was no longer any rage in his being--only peace in the idea of holding her close. She shook her head against his shoulder. How could she not live with it? She hardly remembered what wings were like... and she really didn't want to. If she had to reflect on it, she knew it might be that much more painful. Maybe it was... "Retribution?" He really hadn't wanted to laugh. Deep inside, he wanted to stay quiet... pained... sad... but it was funny. Undeniably funny.
They'd
found
some crappy little tourist trap off the highway--with a really
nice-looking
hotel. Not like it was their money, anyway. A place with
decent
room service was all they needed.
The
meals
were greatly enjoyed--but when Charlotte discovered cheesecake...
that was the beginning of the greatest taste sensation of her life.
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