in your name

This was mortifying. Not the being centre of attention part of it all, he’d never had a problem with people flocking around him, in fact he’d preferred it, revelling in what his mother had called his ability to charm the birds from the trees. But this.

Gabe grimaced up at the balloons, the decorations stuck to the walls (not with tape he hoped, he wasn’t planning on having to redecorate because his birthday had necessitated half the paint being yanked off when they were taken down later). Cake - cakes - a real spread of food across the meeting room table. Him expected to hold court. Oh who was he kidding, it might’ve been unexpected, but there were few enough causes to celebrate these days.

He plucked a cheese straw from a glass on the table, aiming it at Freyja for a second, like he was threatening, but it was a grin that spread over his face before he took a bite. This had been all down to her, and he was grateful for it. It wouldn’t be long before he flipped matters. Was he frustrated about losing his right hand woman for maternity leave for the second time? Yes, even if it had been years - a year, the little voice in his head corrected (as though angels had a concept of time when everything was spread over millennia for them. He wasn’t looking forward to another miniature of their mother crawling around here, taking nips at him with those razor sharp baby teeth, but if it meant he wasn’t left to his own devices for too long he’d be more than willing to celebrate it.

A glass of sparkling cider was pressed into his hand - all the better for the mother-to-be joining in on her own event - and Gabe raised it gratefully to his lips. The angel inside of him stirred, curiosity suddenly filling his mind as the bubbles worked their way down his throat. Not now. Remiel was one of the reasons why being left to his own devices was dangerous. Heat rose into his cheeks as one of his editors started to make small talk about his beach front vacation home in the Outer Banks. They had struck a balance between the two of them, one that meant he wouldn’t wake up in the morning, half blind to what had happened the night before. It was better to see it all and worry about filling his shorts later.

The man babbled on about the surfing there, the thin layer of brag in his words until he paused for breath. Smile spreading, Gabe gestured at him with his glass. ”Rodante or Avalon?” The editor’s brows hitched, his mouth falling open around a half chewed glob of cucumber and ranch. ”I always found Rodante a little more … challenging … don’t you?” His smile broadened as the man started to blabber something at him. Maybe it was small to take satisfaction out of getting the upper hand in the conversation, but it was there anyway. It wasn’t like they didn’t all believe he had a raft of servants at home, ready to slip his golden slippers on his feet at the end of a long day. If only they knew.

Maybe they would now.

The collective gaze in the room seemed to swivel past him as one. Rude. Gabriel frowned, turning on the spot to discover the entertainment, so to speak, as incongruous as a dancer emerging from a six foot cake. The dress that had been half ruined the night he’d - Remiel had - plucked her from the streets. She had spluttered like a wet cat then, just as angry and vicious, taunting him in a language he had only half understood. Like the babel fish the angel had translated for him, the conversation partly flying over his head as he’d practically stuffed his fingers into his ears and had sung through it, not wanting to know. The second time … good lord.

Heat that had risen in his face at the thought of the depths the angel had pulled him to of late burned brighter, thankfully the attention wasn’t on him for the moment. Lamia seemed to stare back at those sets of eyes, unbothered by the attention, perhaps even basking in it. ”Bea…” Beast. The word spilled to his tongue unbidden, hissed by the angel inside of him, cut short as Lamia spun towards him, grinning brightly enough to light the room all on her own - a travesty given the darkness of that thing in the beautiful shell.

Clearing his throat, Gabriel transferred the cheese straw from one hand to the other. He took the demon’s arm, almost turning her to drag her out before she started to … almost. She was reaching up to his face, cupping his thumb in a gesture almost tender. His eyes almost crossed, peering down his nose at her as he tried to inch out of her range. A muscle in his jaw jumped against her palm, he could almost feel the eyes boring into his back now. ”You’re not yet back in your pit, so there is no reason to celebrate anything in your honour,” the angel hissed through his tongue. Bristling, Gabriel tried to take the upper hand again, shoving at the angel as though he were a jack being crammed back in the box. ”This is not for you,” he informed her imperiously. ”It’s for me.” The host. Ugh, even the word gave him shivers, but this wasn’t all about him, despite the day.

Gabriel inclined his head, ignoring the shuffling sounds behind him. They were all getting a good look, probably staring hard enough to have him bursting into flames. No amount of intense scrutiny would decipher the words for them - a minor miracle. ”It’s a celebration of my birth - not his. If he is the one you’ve come to devil, you can go and wait elsewhere. This is not the time for you to bring trouble to the angel’s door again.” Or time for the angel to come out and play … or … Gabriel shivered as the memory rushed through him, scalding his skin with the heat the demon was all too capable of drawing out of him.

Tagged: LAMIA * Word Count: 1102

People always swore that the world shrunk down to just two when things like this happened, but that, as most cliches were, was more than half lie. Was the majority of his focus on the demon in front of him? Yes. He wasn’t the angel right now, though, so the rest of his mind was quite aware of the interest of everybody else crowded into this tiny room. Focused on the two of them, as though they were some zoo exhibit, trapped behind glass or bars with all those gawking faces staring. Gabriel imagined he could feel each set staring over his shoulder at her.

It is no wonder she calls herself a Queen.

Lord above. Gabriel tried not cringe as the angel’s hissed displeasure twisted faintly. Lamia certainly had a bearing that drew eyes, and an innate arrogance that had gotten under both his skin and the angel’s. No amount of yanking on the leash he hoped connected the two of them, or gripping of the demon’s arm would hold either back. And here he was, Gabriel thought uncomfortably, trapped in the middle of the two of them, with his employees only seeing some small, twisted, likely entertaining for them, part of this.

They all had to have heard that. Gabriel felt his face burn, colour rising high across his cheekbones. Lamia’s laughter only added a fresh rush of it and left the desire to tear himself out of her grip growing. The angel might have been deprived the joy of his fight against the demon – and other things with her – but for him it would be a relief. Biting down, Gabriel tried to stop the angel from turning it into another full blown fight here, one that would perhaps lead to … The shudder rolled through him as he fixed at a point over her head. ”I would be quite delighted if that were my only fun,” he hissed. The human, the normal, the easy. The demon would be trapped where she could do no harm and the angel would not be torn between trying to protect himself – and her – from the things that tried to slaughter in this town.

Gabriel wanted to step back as the demon’s gaze snapped back to him. That was a predator’s gaze, one he could now remember of the things that had come close to killing him on the night he had first agreed to Remiel using his body. Pride had him stiffening and glaring down at the ravishing, and terrifying, creature. She was grinning again, her own pride shining in it. His hand gripped her arm harder, trying to force her to quiet. Of course she would expect to be worshipped in far bigger ways, probably with some sort of ritual sacrifice like the Gods of old. ”It’s quite enough, thank you,” Gabriel hissed through his teeth. It would have been more than enough, but now the entire thing felt like a curse.

His voice had rolled out low, especially on those words. Gabriel almost felt himself recoiling from them, wishing there was some way to couch them in poetic language so that he could speak them loud enough to shame her into leaving – if such a thing was possible. Sandy brows drew together, his glance shifting sideways until he was almost turning his head to glance at his employees. It snapped back, as though getting their attention would only leave them somehow more aware of what was being discussed in their midst. ”I don’t know what you mean…” The angel piped up then, cackling out an explanation of their celebrations. ”I think you’ll find I might as well be the modern equivalent of one. As much a God as you are a Queen.” And that was boastful. Gabriel felt the cider he’d sipped rush up the back of his throat at the mere words. Arrogance, as bad as hers.

The sound that rolled out of him was indignant – she made him squeak! – as Lamia licked her way into his mouth. The heat was a volcano beneath his skin now, the small sounds behind him leaving him in no doubt that this was going to end up the office’s only gossip for the next decade. Gabriel tried to push the pleasure that rolled in the wake of that embarrassment aside. He gripped her arm tighter, pushing her back from him as he somehow avoided squeaking again as she squeezed at him. ”You contribute only trouble,” the angel hissed. He’d taken the opening of that shame and had strolled straight into it. ”We have a … a symbiosis, your kind would not understand it. Take, destroy, don’t feel an ounce of guilt while you do it.” Remiel fumbled the glass aside into the hands of someone. With both on the demon he tried to muscle her back towards the door, a far harder prospect with her pressed against him like that – as she had been the last time, on the floor of his office.

Power crackled beneath his skin, barely held back from destroying this room and the people in it with his mere presence. Lowering his head, Remiel hissed into one of those pink, shell like ears. ”He had seen enough to want to steal your life, as I do. Will you leave here or will I need to escort you from this place? His life is not yours to toy with, mine is not for you to grasp in your vile hands. Get back. Leave.” The intoxication hadn’t been forgotten though. It spread through his system with every beat of Gabriel West’s heart. Remiel tried to breathe it out, as he glanced over his shoulder. ”Continue without me a moment,” he threw over his shoulder. ”I just need a moment.” To finally drive the angel blade through the beast’s body – rid himself of the embarrassment and the torment at last.

Tagged: LAMIA * Word Count: 980

He would never claim that things had been better before the angel had stopped wiping his memory, but at least he’d been unaware that he’d been left in these awful spots. No memory of slaughtering an entire room of demons, of perhaps worse (if there had been Remiel had not chosen to return those images to him once they’d come to their arrangement), a strict divide between his life and the angels demarked by those blanks in his memory.

Perhaps later Gabriel would find himself begging for Remiel to strip this away too – the feel of the demon’s tongue trailing hotly over his skin, the need bubbling up inside of him, the shame he could feel burning its way down his back, as though placed there by each of the gazes that had to be locked on the two of them. That would mean altering at least a dozen memories, Remiel playing God in a way that didn’t sit well with him. Being rich – or host to a divine being – didn’t make his existence any more important than theirs, it didn’t give him the right to mess with their lives or their minds. Only the one to feel the embarrassment of this rush back in tsunami fast as soon as he had the demon out of his space, those lines drawn back in.

All he had to do first was rein in Remiel, which was easier thought than done. The angel’s fingers were the ones that tightened on her arm, his teeth the ones to fix on that plump lower lip between his own. The one to drink in that odd line between pleasure and embarrassment and feel a kick of excitement from it. He certainly wasn’t glad to hear that breathless glee in the demon’s voice.

And there she was.

Remiel lowered his head, hissing out wry humour as he held her, caged in his grip. Trouble was all she had brought him since that first night on the street, where her damsel act had played on his host’s generosity. He would call Gabriel West a fool, but in convincing him to let this thing into their apartment had only encouraged it like one of those … stray cats, the little creatures that littered the world and worked their way into human hearts with their pitiful cries. It was a ploy, one that Gabriel couldn’t yet see as clearly as he had. ”You bring us nothing but trouble. Do you not see what you’re doing here to him?” Not that she would have any care for that, or doubtless any awareness of what sensations she left rolling through his host. Their kind could only drink in the misery, although that was perhaps why she had not removed herself immediately. The demon could feel the shame she elicited, the anger, and she was drinking it in.

The demon let her joy at the taste of it roll out on that laugh and he felt it in tiny shivers across his skin – not the sort he had felt when he’d dragged her back to Gabriel’s home for a second time, too angry with her, too disgusted to think straight. ”You give me nothing but the urge to rid this town of you,” Remiel hissed. He could remember what she had given him that night though, felt the echoes of it working their way through his host’s body.

No. She could protest his commands all she liked, throwing them back in his face, but it did mean she would get her way. He had stopped her, seen her shake in fear and other things on that night. Perhaps she wouldn’t be so proud of herself if he announced it to the room. Dear God. The embarrassment was like a splash of hot water down his spine, the blood rising under the surface of his skin to leave him feeling scalded. That had been Gabriel, who would have to work his way out from under this the same way he had the demon after they had finished the last time.

Relinquishing his grip on one of those slender biceps, he dragged her from the room as politely as it was possible to get with a squirming wildcat in his grip. Returning to the scene of the almost crime, so to speak, perhaps wasn’t wise, but at least in Gabriel’s office he could close the blinds, keep prying eyes at bay as he pushed her back against the bulwark of his desk. ”By you,” he hissed, bearing her down against it, stopping her from rearing up to try and take ownership of his mouth again. ”This has to end. Find yourself a game elsewhere demon.” Because he couldn’t help but play, despite knowing that he should end the game with his very next move.

”Stop it!” The order snapped out as she wiggled, ordering him to unhand her. It did nothing of course, just leaving her to settle her touch at his chest – somewhat safe territory at least. ”How did you fail to get the message that this is his place?” Remiel hissed, finally letting go of her to wiggle himself away from that touch.

He failed, the demon was coming with him, snaking her arms around his shoulders as she probed for those soft spots again, trying to goad him into cracking. Remiel arched his neck back, trying to keep himself out of range. His hands settled on her ribs either side, not so neutral territory, his grip tightening as she nosed into him again. ”You were embarrassing him,” he hissed. ”You might be prepared to drop this form like nothing but an empty sack when you are done with her, but he’ll have to exist here, with people asking what sort of … beast … wrapped herself around him.” It had been a red flag to a bull to elevate himself out there, but she had left him no choice.

Remiel slid a hand around to the front, flattening it in that small spot in the centre of her chest, the valley the dress created to tempt those with no self-control. ”He made us that way, the God. We are his children, meant to protect humanity, not allow them to crumble under your influence. What will make you leave this place?” He wouldn’t add for good, because that would only tempt her to continue to outstay any welcome she might once have had here.

Tagged: LAMIA * Word Count: 1072