ForsakingEternity (8 page)

He stared bemusedly at the folded white cloth for a moment.
Such an old-fashioned human custom, and yet carrying a handkerchief was so
perfectly Adam. Ren found a quiet niche by the door and wiped the tears from
his cheeks.

Breathing in, he was taken by the scent of the cloth. The
scent of Adam.

A flush of heat washed over Ren. This cloth had been in
Adam’s pocket, nestled close to his body. He breathed in the scent again, an
illicit extravagance when the enemy circled so close.

He was reminded once more that time was running short. If he
was to give in to this temptation, give in to Adam, it must happen this night.
Tomorrow he must return the scroll to the Heavenly Plane, and the Law of Men
and Angels would once more be enforced by the Most High.

Tonight, Adam would be an indulgence.

Tomorrow, he could well be a sin.

“Are you ready?” Ren looked up, startled. Adam stood before
him, concern lining his face. Ren took one last breath, one last scenting of
the handkerchief, before tucking it in his own pocket. For the first time since
his arrival on the Earthly Plane, he felt a sense of peace wash over him. He
wanted this man, and for one night only he could have him.

His path was finally clear.

“Yes, Adam. I am ready.”

* * * * *

They sat at his desk in silence, eating sandwiches and
sipping sodas from cans. Adam didn’t taste any of it, too haunted by the pain
he’d seen in Ren’s eyes.

“Can I ask about it?” he finally asked, caution coloring his
tone.

“Ask about what?” Ren set his sandwich down on its wrapper
and gingerly wiped his mouth with a paper napkin.

“Whatever it was that had you so upset in the store.”

Ren leaned back, the sadness once more in his eyes.

“I was thinking of Michani, my daughter.”

His daughter. The words hit Adam like a punch in the gut.

Ren was a father. He’d said there was no wife or girlfriend
waiting but Adam had never asked about children. Ren had a whole life
elsewhere. One which didn’t include an ancient language professor from a small
New England college.

At the same time Adam was reminded of what he’d given up.
He’d long ago come to terms with the fact he’d never have the idealized image
of family. He could have adopted, had explored the option, but a single gay man
wasn’t considered the best potential parent. No, Adam would never be a father.
Nor would his mother ever hold a grandchild, a point of contention between
them.

“Do you see her often?” he asked cautiously, not sure he
wanted to hear about Ren’s devotion to a child who lived somewhere else, a
devotion which would make any future with Adam impossible. A devotion he would
never experience for himself.

“I do not ever see her. She is dead.”

Adam’s jealousy soured to guilt and his heart ached for the
gentle man sitting before him.

“I’m sorry.” Sorry for Ren’s loss. Sorry for resenting the
love he had for his child.

Sorry was such a trite word. But it was the only word he
had.

“It happened long ago.” Ren shrugged, but his eyes were
still troubled.

“But it still hurts.”

“Yes. It still hurts.” Ren stood and moved to the window,
his profile lit with the subdued light of the cloudy day. He didn’t look out
over the commons, as Adam often did. His eyes were fixed instead on the
heavens.

“How old was she?”

“She was seven when she was killed. Her mother was from a
small village. A kind woman. She was a good mother. Some men from a nearby
village heard about Michani and a few others like her. They attacked and dragged
the children into the center of the village. Killed them there while their
mothers wept and screamed for divine intervention. None ever came.”

Ren relayed the story so calmly, his tone so matter-of-fact,
and yet the scene he painted was so gruesome, Adam didn’t want to believe it
was real.

“You weren’t there.”
Please say you weren’t there.

“I arrived too late to save the children. My daughter died
in my arms.”

Bile rose in Adam’s throat. He couldn’t imagine the horror
of watching one’s child die. He pushed his sandwich away. “And the killers?”

“They never left the village.” Ren’s tone was flat and edged
with steel, the gentleness that was so a part of him gone.

A chill rippled over Adam’s skin. Renatus had killed.

Renatus turned to face him, and Adam couldn’t move, struck
by Ren’s beauty and the hint of savagery he hadn’t seen before.

“But as I said, it happened long ago. The pain has long
faded into the sands of time. Sometimes those sands shift and expose it, but
they will shift again and all will be as it was.”

He left the window to return to the desk.

“I do not wish to discuss my daughter anymore.”

“Then why don’t we take a look at the box from the antique
store.” Adam pulled the box out of the bag and placed it in the center of the
desk.

Ren grimaced, staring at the box as if it were a snake ready
to strike.

“You aren’t interested?”

“Actually, you might say I have a vested interest in it.
Just not one I’m anxious to explore.” With a resigned sigh Ren scooted his
chair closer to the desk and leaned in to examine the markings.

Ren didn’t appear to want to share more than that so Adam
let the comment go for the moment. He leaned in over the box, mimicking the
other man’s pose, but instead of studying its markings, he studied Ren. He
thought he had the other man figured out, had pigeonholed him as one of those
men who were repressed, scared of their sexuality.

A coward.

The man sitting across from him was no coward. Cautious and
uncertain, but not afraid. And he wasn’t the gentle and meek person Adam had
assumed, either.

They never left the village.

A gut-deep shiver ran through Adam.

Ren was right. The truth did ring through one’s soul.

“What do you think?”

The question jarred Adam from his musings. The box. Ren was
asking about the box. He studied the engravings. He could recognize some
characters but they didn’t seem to form words.

Did they just move? He couldn’t actually see movement but
the words seemed to shift, to change the moment he wasn’t looking directly at
them.

“There appears to be something written on it.” He opened a
desk drawer and pulled out a magnifying glass. It didn’t make sense. He could
make out the characters clearly, and yet despite his fluency in the language,
he couldn’t decipher the words.

“I can’t read it.” He set the glass on the desk and sat back
in disgust. He should have been able to pick out at least a bit of it. It was
legitimate writing, he could discern that much, but for some reason the meaning
eluded him.

“Hmm.”

Ren’s non-committal tone caught his attention. Ren knew
languages, probably better than Adam.

“You can read it, can’t you?”

“Yes.” Ren turned the box and continued reading.

“So?”

“So what?” Ren asked, finally looking up at Adam in
confusion.

“So what does it say?”

“Oh. It is a listing of the blessings and the curses. They
are quite extensive.” Ren angled the box once more and continued to read.

Blessings and curses? He ought to know what that meant. Adam
frowned. Leaning back in his chair, he stared at the box, racking his brain for
the context.

“It’s a covenant box.” The reciting of blessings and curses
was part of the covenant ceremony. But covenants were a thing of history, and
this box wasn’t ancient. He leaned in and picked up the magnifying glass once
more. The engraved characters seemed to shift, avoiding his attempts to
translate them.

“I can see the Hebrew characters clearly. Why don’t they
make sense?” He threw the magnifying glass in the drawer, frustrated.

“You read it as Hebrew? How interesting.” Ren sat back and
stared at him, and Adam shifted under his scrutiny.

“Yes, I can read Hebrew. I’m a Jew and an ancient language
scholar, so that shouldn’t be surprising. What I don’t understand is why I
can’t read
this
Hebrew.”

“That it’s Hebrew at all is what is interesting.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Adam blew out a frustrated
breath. Ren’s reaction to this box was just weird.

Ren didn’t answer as he stood and stretched. “I’ve seen
enough of this for tonight. We can look at it some more tomorrow. Let’s go
home.”

Chapter Six

Ren stood in the doorway, his teeth clenched tight together
and his feet refusing to move. He shoved his hands even harder into the pockets
of his coat until the seams strained and the corduroy creaked.

“Are you coming in?” Adam asked, dropping his keys in the
bowl on the entry table.

Ren could only give a jerky nod. His heart beat loud and
fast and the sound of it threatened to drown out rational thought.

This must be what nervousness felt like.

“Is this what you want, Ren?” Adam finally asked. He took a
small step but then stopped, as if afraid to come any closer. Did he know?
Could he sense the weight of this choice, feel the danger?

Ren closed his eyes, his mind filled with the words from the
covenant box.

Eternal damnation to those who violate…

We shall smite those who violate…

Sending the soul of evil men unto Hell…

The Law of Men and Angels is absolute…

Ren opened his eyes. Adam stood, waiting, his expression
stiff but hope filled his eyes. This would be his only chance to lie with this
human. The scroll had been found, and once the Word was read into Law, loving
Adam would not be possible.

Taking a deep breath, Ren stepped inside and closed the
door.

“I do not know what to do,” he admitted. His face went hot
and his hands trembled.

“What do you want to do?” Adam stepped back and leaned against
the wall. He kept his hands at the small of his back, not reaching, not
touching. Leaving the burden of choice completely on the one who understood the
consequences. Renatus.

I want to flee to the safety of Heaven. I want you to
forget you ever saw me, live a happy and full life without the danger I bring.

But he hadn’t returned the scroll yet. The Law was not being
upheld tonight.

“I want to kiss.” Such a little thing, a kiss. Surely there
was no sin in something so simple.

Ren balled his hands into fists and pressed them hard
against the bottoms of the coat pockets. The muscles of his upper arms and
chest strained and the thick corduroy creaked again in protest.

“Come in and hang up your jacket,” Adam urged, tipping his
head to indicate the row of hooks lining the wall beside him.

Ren forced his heavy feet to move, to step into the house so
he could shut the door behind him. He shrugged out of the coat and leaned past
Adam to hang it up. For one heart-stopping moment, he could feel the heat of
Adam’s body, the brush of their clothing. Flustered, Ren started to step away.

Adam’s hand touched Ren’s waist. It was the barest of
contacts, so light Ren almost couldn’t feel it, but it held him and pinned him
there. They were close, so very close. Their eyes met and Ren swayed in,
helpless to resist the lure of this human.

“Kiss me.” Adam tipped his head back against the wall. He
didn’t move, didn’t make any attempt to kiss or hold. He was letting Ren set
the pace, a significant reassurance for an angel floundering so far out of his
depth.

The temptation became more than Ren could resist, and he
shifted, leaning in closer, dipping his head just a little. He hesitated, his
lips so close he could feel Adam’s shallow, panting breath, could taste him on
those fine wisps of air.

Ren brushed his lips against the corner of that tempting
mouth and Adam sighed at the light contact.

Ren pulled back, unsure of what to do next.

Adam’s hand drifted up from Ren’s waist, barely touching as
it eased over his abdomen and chest. He cupped Ren’s jaw, the heat of his palm
soaking into Ren, warming him in ways he never imagined possible.

“Kiss me again, Ren. Kiss me for real.”

The plea was irresistible. Ren bent again, covering Adam’s
mouth with his own. Adam’s head angled, giving him access, and Ren took
advantage. Their tongues met, tangled and hesitancy vanished. Ren could feel
his power rising, flowing between them in a smooth wave of golden heat. It
flared and arousal spiked.

Adam groaned under his mouth. Shifting, he spread his feet
until Ren stood between them. A tug on Ren’s belt pulled his hips until they
were cradled by Adam’s body. He rocked against Adam, let the drag of denim
against denim tease and taunt.

Still, Adam made no move beyond that one hand on his jaw and
the other at his belt. The kiss was slow. Hot, and languorous. A gentle
exploration of taste and texture as opposed to the fevered rush of the night
before.

Kissing a male was…different. The textures a blend of rough
and silky-smooth, the body harder yet so exquisitely vulnerable. He wanted
more. What would that hard body feel like in his hand, or against his own with
no fabric between them to stifle the sensations?

He let one tentative hand drift between them and cupped Adam
through the thick fabric.

Adam tore his mouth away from Ren’s with a strangled curse.

Ren jerked his hand away. “I…I am sorry. Did I do it wrong?”

“Oh, fuck no. You did it just right. Do it again.” Adam
grabbed his wrist in a bruising grip and pushed Ren’s hand back between them.
“I want you to touch me more. Touch me how you like to be touched.”

Ren hesitated, then he tugged on the waistband, pulling the
snap open. Easing the zipper down, he slipped his hand inside the open placket
and cupped Adam through the soft cotton of his briefs. This time he watched
Adam’s face, fascinated by the raw pleasure there. As his hand explored, Adam’s
jaw flexed, relaxing one minute as his mouth opened with a sigh, then bunching
as his teeth ground audibly. The hand at Ren’s waist grew demanding, pulling
them harder against one another as Adam’s hips began to rock. The slight space
between them vanished and Ren could do no more than press his hand against
Adam’s cock and let him move.