It was always amusing to watch Adonis in public. Women couldn’t seem to help themselves. Yes, ladies, he looks like a god. Greeks used to worship him for a reason. Those were the things I couldn’t say out loud, even though it killed me inside.
Adonis loved the attention. He practically bathed in it. I, for one, got irritated by it. Men stared at me the way women stared at Adonis, but I knew what men thought when they gawked at my five-foot-ten form. It didn’t help that my hair was pitch black and my eyes an odd shade of violet. My pupils tended to glow when I was upset, which, for a warrior like myself, was quite often.
Headquarters usually forced me to wear sunglasses in public, since I was perpetually offended around humans. But what else would you expect from a warrior? I was always on the lookout, always looking at the shadows, watching and waiting.
I hated to say it, but if someone was tall and attractive, I immediately found them suspicious. Not that every movie star and supermodel was a part of the fallen race, but a good many of them could be, and I didn’t like taking chances.
Adonis motioned for me to follow him as he walked against the crowds toward the pier. I trailed behind him and tried not to make eye contact. Cat calls and whistles continued to plague us as we made our way to the bottom of Pier 39.
“Do you see anyone?” I asked, scanning the deserted pier.
“We’re safe, stop worrying.” Adonis briefly touched my face again and kissed my mouth. I instantly wished he would stop.
I hated feeling weak, like I needed him in order to survive.
I was irritated that I was attracted to the one man I’ve been told by Headquarters not to get involved with. He knew it, I knew it. But Nephilim had more heightened emotions than humans; granted, we can control them better. It didn’t mean we didn’t feel. And well… it was hard to feel anything but lust when a man like Adonis was kissing you.
“Let’s go.” He broke the kiss and pinched my cheek. I could feel the color flowing through my veins. I hated being weak after battle almost as much as I hated the fact Adonis didn’t seem to have any feelings for anyone but himself. Yes, he cared for me like a sister, but I could almost guarantee he’d choose himself over me any day. Adonis, thy name is Vanity.
“Are you talking to yourself and leaving me out again, Thena?” he asked as he pushed the elevator button.
“Yes,” I said, turning toward him. “Too bad you can’t read minds.”
He grunted “I know you better than you think.”
If only that weren’t so true.
The elevator opened.
In we walked, waiting for the bone-crushing plummet that would kill a normal person. Under the Puget Sound we go, to Headquarters, or as all Nephilim call it, Halcyon.
My nails dug into the gloves I was wearing, nearly cutting off my circulation as the elevator plunged into the deep. After a few minutes, the doors opened.
“Ah, home!” Adonis announced, spreading his arms wide open with glee.
I felt like slugging him, but realized how childish it would be, considering I’m supposed to be a mature several thousand years old, or something like that. I’d conveniently lost count.
“And how was the trip?” Janus asked scribbling on a piece of parchment the exact time of arrival and what door we used to get to Headquarters. Seekers were asked to use the secret doors in a scattered manner, so we weren’t followed.
“Door Seven,” Adonis said as we brushed past Janus, who was still squinting at the number on the elevator. Adonis grabbed my hand and led me down the hall.
“You’ll have to wait like the rest of them,” Janus called out.
I rolled my eyes. Janus was the gatekeeper and supremely annoying. It was like he needed to control people’s comings and goings. It was the only job he actually had as a Seeker.
The dude would die if he was sent out into battle. Sometimes I think he wanted to die. I’d probably want to die too, if I had to sit and watch doors all day.
I turned and nodded my acceptance, then followed Adonis through the gold-encrusted doors into the giant hall.
The rooms of Halcyon went on for hundreds of miles. The walls were thick-paned glass, making it possible to see out into the dark ocean depths but impossible to see in. It was our way of not feeling claustrophobic so deep into the sea. The Puget Sound was an impressive nine hundred and thirty feet at its deepest. Men didn’t come down here, but if they did, they would be dead before they could reach air again.