“Don’t play big brother now,” he spat. “You didn’t fucking care, even knowing I was right here. So, leave me the hell alone. Go back to your life!”
Aethan grabbed him before he could take off.
“What do you want?” Aerén snarled. “For me to tell you our world is falling apart, our parents have been missing for two fucking years, and we have no clue what happened to them? Oh wait, you already know that! Reynner must have filled you in! Maybe you want me to tell you the woman I’m in love with just told me to fuck off and go and mate her sister, who’s a Chosen!” He shook his head. “I can’t deal with all this, and you, too!”
He stalked off, except Aethan remained stuck at his side like a fucking barnacle.
“C’mon.” Aethan gripped his arm.
Aerén tried to shake him off, then gave up, mostly because he no longer cared.
Moments later, he found himself in a nightclub, music crashing into his skull and nearly ripping apart his sensitive hearing, the laser beams rippling over the shivering dancers and half blinding him. They neared the stairs going upstairs, and the demon bouncer there let them through.
In the quieter VIP section, the music from the dance floor was muted to a dull throb. Aethan lifted a finger, and a waitress glided over. Her bright blue eyes widened as she gave them an up-down look he was familiar with, the promise of easy bed sport.
“Hi, you gorgeous male specimens,” she crooned, cocking a hip. “What can I get ya?”
Aerén ignored her, as did Aethan, who watched him instead. “Two whiskeys on ice. Top shelf.”
“Coming right up.” She sashayed off.
Aerén continued staring at his blood-smeared, clasped hands resting on the dark wooden table. His knuckles had healed up real fast, and it had him frowning. His healing abilities had been out of sync for a while since he hadn’t properly Grounded. Then he shrugged it off, didn’t care. With his life on the skids, he couldn’t be bothered about the whys right now.
“I still can’t believe you’re no longer a teen,” Aethan murmured.
“Yeah, there’s this thing called growing up. Millennia of it.”
Aethan laughed.
Aerén didn’t, his mind back on Leya, her words ripping him apart again.
“It was fun, but I cannot give you what you want.”
Fuck!He rubbed his stinging eyes, trying to erase her image, wishing he could do the same to his heart. But neither fucking worked.
“Want to talk about it?” Aethan asked quietly.
“No.”
“Okay. How’s Daén?”
His mouth thinned. He didn’t want to talk about him, either, so he didn’t respond.
“Right.” The drinks came. Aethan dropped some bills on the table.
The waitress scooped them up. “Thanks.” She grinned and glided off.
Aerén stared at the liquor. “This doesn’t help us.”
“I know, but the burn down the throat is worth it.”
The dim lights in the lounge caught the amber liquid in a glimmer of muted stars. “So, you’re a Guardian?” he said. “How long?”
“From the moment the ancient Goddess Gaia insisted on reprisal after I destroyed her lands in my anguish. It was a few centuries after Allatus opened a portal and kicked my ass out.”
Aerén studied Aethan as he spoke. He seemed more at peace now, anger nowhere in sight as he filled Aerén in on his life on Earth, about living with other immortals, fallen gods…
Aerén listened with half an ear, had no idea how much time passed. “Don’t you have to get back to work?” he finally asked.
