Page 63 of Colin Gets Promoted and Dooms the World
Manhattan’s streets had been empty an hour ago, but that brief touch of euphoria and hope had drawn people outside. Now many of them stared at the sky with stricken expressions. Some wept, embracing those next to them. Down one street, a mob screamed and threw bottles at a line of faceless, silent soldiers holding riot shields. Things had been very bad before. They would undoubtedly get worse now.
Eric drove us past Washington Square Park, filled with hundreds of people on their way to becoming another panicked mob, and into the comparative silence of Soho. Not long after that, we parked behind a five-story building and he led me up several flights of stairs to a small loft apartment. It was nice, I noticed absently, with exposed brick walls and ten-foot windows looking out on the buildings across the street. “Do you want something to drink?” he asked quietly as he switched on the lights and locked the door behind me.
I shook my head and only then realized I was shivering. My teeth chattered as I tried to still myself, but it was no use. Something cold and dark had taken root inside me, and I wasn’t sure I would ever be warm again.
His arms wound their way around me and he pressed me close to his strong frame, murmuring into my hair, “I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay.”
It isn’t, I wanted to say.You’re going to die horribly, and so am I.Instead, I turned my head, mouth seeking his with a sudden, fierce desperation that frightened me. I needed to feel something other than this creeping, deadly cold, needed it more than I’d ever needed anything. He responded, gentle at first, lips brushing mine as if hewas afraid of hurting me, but when I grabbed his body and pulled him against me, his mouth grew more insistent until we were kissing frantically, drinking in each other while the darkness gathered outside.
Lying next to him in his bed, I traced the muscled ridges of his body with my fingertips, marveling at the velvety feel of his skin. He did the same to me, slowly running his hands over my chest and belly, his eyes looking into mine. Slowly at first, we touched one another, learning new topographies, mapping out the places that made the other catch his breath, coming back to them over and over again. I watched his neck arch back, exposing the quick flutter of his heartbeat as it pulsed beneath the skin, and reveled in the way my touch made him moan. We moved together, faster, reaching for a transcendent moment of connection in which our two selves opened and joined and became one thing, a moment in which nothing existed or mattered but us.
Later, sprawled on top oftangled sheets as the sweat cooled on my skin, I stared up at a labyrinth of exposed ductwork. “Wow,” I murmured.
“Yeah.” He nuzzled his face into the side of my neck. “I’ve been wanting that to happen for a while now.”
“Me too.” Slowly, I ran my hand across his perfect chest. He was wearing a golden pendant suspended from a thin chain around his neck. The metal was warm, and I absentmindedly traced it with my fingertips. Embossed on the front was a sword, its point facing downward, in front of a stylized sun. “What’s this?”
“A family heirloom, sort of.”
“What does it mean?”
“Sword of light,” he mumbled sleepily. Then he stirred a little. “Or something like that.”
The pendant slid across his skin as he moved, tilting onto one edge, and I saw tiny markings on the back. That tickled something in the dim recesses of my brain, but before I could pin it down, he started nibbling my neck and it became very difficult to think.
“Hang on,” I said, trying to focus, “it’s an heirloom? It looks familiar somehow.”
“You’ve probably seen it before,” he murmured, breath hot against my skin. “I never take it off. Now hold still. I want to give you a massive hickey.”
“Don’t you dare. What are we, fifteen?”
We both laughed, and then he nibbled for a while. At last, I said quietly, “Thank you.”
“For what?” he asked, a little muffled.
“For…saving me, I guess.”
Eric lifted his head again to study my face.
“I’m scared,” I admitted quietly. “But I’m a little less scared now.”
His arm tightened across my waist. “Me too.”
We lay there for a while, the apartment still and silent around us. I could almost believe that everything was fine, that there wasn’t something dark and ancient hunting people across the city.
“Colin?” Eric said at last.
“Hmm?”
“I want you to know—” He trailed off, and when he spoke again, he did so hesitantly. “It doesn’t matter to me what you’ve done before now. Who you’ve been.”
My hand stilled on his chest. “Okay,” I said slowly.
“What I mean is, the past is gone. My past, your past. All I care about is now.”
I thought about that as he curved his body into mine, his breaths gradually slowing. Carefully, I hugged him close, resting my cheek on top of his head, and wondered what it would be like to be free of the past. I would never know. My choices would catch up to both of us sooner or later.
Taking what comfort I could from Eric’s warm presence next to me, I stayed there until morning, unable to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that final flare of golden light breaking through the shadows over Manhattan, heralding the death of an angel.
