chapter 15
Heather let Uri into her apartment after dropping off the car at the club. Without a word, she went into the kitchen and retrieved the bottle of wine that she had opened earlier in the day -- before her bath and before the visit from Damien. Heaving a dramatic sigh, she threw herself onto the couch and drank a long draught straight from the bottle of wine.
Today had been hard. After seeing Damien and the shock that Uri was really a supernatural being, which Heather was still trying to process, she'd stuck her twin into a rehab facility, possibly incurring her sister's wrath for a long time to come. It was worse than putting her mother in the home for some reason. Probably because she knew that things could feasibly continue on the way they had been. But to continue to enable her sister would have made her miserable, Tiffany was killing herself slowly.
“It’s been a long day for you, hasn’t it, Heather?” Uri asked her softly, sinking down next to her on the sofa.
“You have no idea.” She swigged from the bottle again.
“Why don’t you let me tuck you into bed?” Questioning his motives, she looked at him suspiciously, but his expression was open, guileless.
She nodded at him, and he took the bottle from her hands, set it on the table next to the sofa, and led her into her bedroom.
Heather took off her jeans and bra, and lay down on her bed. Uri pulled the covers up to her chin and sat down next to her. She inhaled his scent in her bedroom. She knew he didn't see her as anybody romantic, she wasn't even sure he could see her that way. But something about the way his eyes softened when he looked at her, his hand resting on her hip, reassured her. He made her feel safe.
“You did a good thing today, Heather,” he said, supportively. His knuckle rubbed her cheek, and Heather found the gesture endearing. She nuzzled him with her face, and he opened his hand. She rested her face on his palm, relishing in his warmth on her cheek. She could feel a current in his skin, making the ever-present white-hot heat crackle beneath the surface of her skin.
“You truly are a light in the darkness.” His gaze softened as he looked at her.
She took a deep breath, recognizing she would never know unless she just asked. “Uri?”
“Hmm?” Her insides melted a little bit when he made that noise. It reminded her of the night he hummed Swan Lake to her while she danced. She smiled at the memory.
“Do you ever have sex?” She had always thought of angels as asexual beings, but this one was all man.
“I have, but in general, I find the whole experience…a bit messy.” He looked uncomfortable and shifted away from her slightly. His hand dropped from her face, and she grabbed at it, holding it close to her eyes.
“It can be…” She said thoughtfully, lowering his hand to her lap. “But it can also be beautiful.” She watched his face for a reaction. “Don’t you wonder why it’s been written about, painted, sung, artistically depicted in countless forms for centuries, or longer?”
“That’s love, Heather. It’s different from sex.” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper.
“Have you ever been in love?”
He sighed, “No. Love is a weakness that is purely human. Angels don’t feel things the way you do. We love life and humans, but we don’t fall in love.” He lowered his eyes to where her hand clasped his. “Can I ask you a question, Heather?”
“Sure.”
“Why do you dance at that…club?” She could see the disdain he held for it in the downturned corners of his mouth, and she tried not to let it hurt her feelings.
“I make enough money there to support my mom and sister.”
“Don’t you ever feel cheap? Or threatened?”
“No. I don’t. The men there, for the most part, are very respectful of me. I provide a form of entertainment, that’s totally legal. They get to feel a little naughty and go home and make love to their wives. It’s fun. They make me feel beautiful.”
“Heather, you are beautiful. You don’t need a bunch of randy men to make you feel that way.” The way he said it sent a warm flush to her cheeks, but she tried not to let his proximity, and his kind words distract her.
“I make them feel sexy, too. For a few minutes they get to feel like the object of my desire, and that makes them feel good, too.”
“You promote the sex trade to propagate a human frailty. It’s one of the deadly sins. ”
Taken aback by his bluntness, she sat up and asked, “Do you enjoy what you do?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I help shape humankind’s destiny as a whole, improve your level of existence, your quality of life.” He said it as if it were a matter not to be questioned, and his sense of superiority annoyed her.
“Are you proud of it?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks for illustrating my point.” She laid back her head in satisfaction.
“What point?”
“Pride is a deadly sin too, Uri. I get to be a completely different person up on that stage than I am in real life. In my real life, I’m taking care of everybody else, scrambling to keep my sister bathed and my mother remembering me. On that stage, none of that matters. Nobody in that club knows that I’ve been struggling to hold myself together since I was thirteen years old.” Her voice had gone quiet with desperation. Uri was the only other person…er…entity who knew her entire history, and here he was questioning her choices. She had to make him see that she was good. His opinion of her mattered. It shouldn't, but it did.
Uri was looking at her, his crystalline eyes looking straight through her. Abruptly, his hand had sunk into her hair and was bringing her up by her neck, until her forehead was touching his. Their eyes were inches away from each other, their noses touching. Uri's warmth surrounded her, making her breathless. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, as his thumb stroked her jawline.
“You can’t fight darkness with darkness, Heather. You need to find some light for your life. You can’t be the only source of it, or you’ll burn out.” His voice broke, and his eyes were watery, as if he were fixing to cry. Before she could respond, he continued. "I don't know what is happening to me, or why you are different from others, but you are. You are different." He closed his eyes, taking a slow deep breath, as if to center himself. “You don’t seem to understand the danger for yourself if you keep working there. You are so good, Heather.”
His words were reminiscent of Damien's words to her this morning, and she shuddered. He had called her good. What was it with these men and good girls? Heather couldn't take it anymore. Being this close to him, and not being able to do anything was killing her.
She brought her hand up to his neck and pulled him into a kiss, brushing his lips softly with her own. Just a taste.
Their lips melted together, softness against softness, warmth sinking into warmth. Heather's mind swirled with the sensations of Uri, breathing light into her darkness. She was lost to the tumultuous feeling inside herself, the elation, the fear, the desire. Realizing what she'd done, she broke away, gasping, but his grip on her hair had tightened, so she couldn't go far.
"I'm sorry, Uri. I shouldn't have done that." She looked at him and was stunned to see that his eyes mirrored her own feelings. He felt the same fear, joy, and desire. She could see it.
"Why did you?" He questioned her, his voice a whisper against her cheek.
"I wanted to see if you tasted like…"
Realization dawned in Uri's eyes. "Did I?"
She shook her head, eyes cast down at her lap, suddenly embarrassed. "It's a job, Uri. Will I go to Hell for a job?"
“You might.” Finally, he let go of her and let her lay back down on the bed, stroking her cheek softly with the pad of his thumb
“Okay. I’ll think about it.” Exhausted, she closed her eyes. “Uri?” Her eyes still closed, she waited for an answer.
“Hmm?” His voice was near and sent a shiver up her spine. He had laid down next to her, on top of the covers of her bed.
“Will you please stay? Until I go to sleep? I’ve got a spare key in my purse.”
“I’ll stay, Heather. And I can come and go without a key.”
She sat straight up in her bed, suddenly panicking. “You can materialize? Like poof into places?”
He looked amused, crossing his arms behind his head. “Yes.”
“Can he?”
Uri's eyes turned dark, his body losing the relaxed posture he'd just adopted. He grasped her hand, pulling it to his mouth. “I’ll bless the apartment. He won’t be able to get in. I promise you, Heather.”
The touch of his warm, soft lips on the top of her hand left her momentarily breathless, before his words sank in.
“Thank you.” She closed her eyes again, listening to Uri’s voice, as he softly chanted an incantation. The sound of him lulled her into a peaceful slumber.