Natural Consequences (37 page)

“You want some water? Need a trip to the bathroom? We can arrange either of those right now.”

“Ah’d like t’ hit th’ john, yeah,” Wade nodded.

“Okay, we’ll get there in just a minute,” Joe nodded, taking a seat at the table opposite Wade. This time he had the files. “I’m Joe, this is Paul—what’s funny?”

“Nothin’,” Wade said, smothering his grin. “Paul an’ Joe. Go on.”

“Do you know why you’re in here?”

“Reckon ah oughta let y’all explain it to me.”

“You and your buddy got in a hell of a fight tonight,” Joe said. “Lit a man on fire. Killed him. Beat up a couple other guys, all with serious criminal records. And you did it all in front of a Federal agent.”

“So y’all are Feds?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Whut branch?”

“Federal Bureau of Investigation. So, you want to tell us what happened?”

“Y’all don’t already know?”

“We’d like to hear it from you.”

“Ah’m not sure ah’m interested in talkin’.”

“No? Why’s that?”

“Ah can think of a dozen reasons,” Wade shrugged. His expression remained perfectly pleasant, even friendly.

“You know, Wade, I have a feeling we’re all on the same side here,” Joe said, also remaining mild. He tapped his manila file. “You served in Afghanistan, right? Airborne?”

“Reckon if y’all got files, there ain’t no reason to ask the questions.”

Joe nodded. “Sure. Sorry, rhetorical is all. I served in the Marines, earlier than you did, of course. But yeah, I’ve read the file. You graduated high school a semester early and went straight into boot camp, then served with the airborne in Afghanistan. Not too many guys your age with a record like yours,” he said. “Expert Infantry Badge. Bronze Star. Silver Star,” he added, his eyebrows going up. “Your friends even know about that silver? Your family? Whole bunch of pats on the back in there, too… and then the last month or so of your record is sealed and marked Secret. Everything but the medical record on your wound, which doesn’t seem like the sort of thing they cut a guy loose over. Why’s that?”

“Well, that ‘Secret’ mark kinda does what it says on the label there, Joe.”

“Oh, I understand. But I can ask.”

He received no answer.

“You never made E-4, Wade. You weren’t even halfway through your enlistment. So I have to ask myself, how’s this guy wind up with his record sealed and a ticket home for a relatively superficial wound? You’re probably not even limping anymore, right? And, you know, I’m with the FBI and I’m on an investigation, so I had every reason to look.” He paused, waiting for a reaction. “What happened on that patrol, Wade?”

Wade tilted his head curiously
, but said nothing.

“See, I’ve got this trail of sealed, secret documents, all about some patrol you went on. And your platoon leader, Lieutenant Stamp got sent home three days after that patrol to sit behind a supply desk. Hell of a thing to happen to a senator’s son.”

He paused. Watched Wade. Saw a twitch of his grin. Something about this amused the young man. “That happens, and there’s virtually no report of what happened on that patrol… and then a week later you take a bullet in the butt that should’ve been fine within a couple of months, but instead they give you a medical discharge. Best man in the platoon, hell probably even the whole damn company, and they pat you on the head and send you home for that. So what happened? What did you do? Or what do you know? Did Lieutenant Stamp have the same problem?”

“Stamp got rotated out on a medical,” Wade said.

“Yeah, says here he got severe trench foot?”

“Really?” asked Wade, his knowing smirk still strong. “Ah heard it wuz a dental problem.”

Joe’s head turned slightly at that. “Is the Lieutenant missing a few teeth?”

“Pro’ly not anymore,” shrugged Wade. “But that’s jus’ speculation. Ain’t none o’ mah
business. Ah’m a civilian now.”

“See, I think they’d only send someone like Stamp home if he’d screwed up so badly that nobody would follow him anymore, but he was connected well enough that nobody wanted him to take the fall he deserved,” Joe mused. “So the question is, which side of it were you on? Given your record and the smile on your face, I’d have to guess it wasn’t Stamp’s side. But if you were cashiered, there had to be some reason. So maybe it wasn’t just Stamp on the wrong side of it, was it?”

Wade shrugged. “Couldn’t say. That’s all apparently marked Secret, right? Ah’m jus’ a poor dumb hick grunt. Ex-grunt, anyway. Ah don’t know any secrets.”

Joe just nodded. “I can respect that. Couple guys got hurt on that patrol, though, I can see that much. Roadside bomb. They recovered okay, but it reads like nobody was sure it’d turn out that way. You were in this little village… did it even have a name?”

“Hell if I know. Prob’ly ain’t even there no more.”

“Oh, it’s there. I can show you the satellite from three days ago.” He paused. “Is it still there because of you, Wade? You and the Lieutenant’s sudden dental problem? He freaked out and you kept him from blowing up a village full of innocent Afghans, didn’t you?”

“Sounds like a pretty good secret there,” Wade shrugged. “Shame ah can’t confirm it for you.”

“See, that’s what I thought,” Joe grunted, “and you know I wouldn’t put all that out in the open unless I had already confirmed it through other means, right? So yeah. I think you’re one of us, Wade. I think you’re one of the good guys.”

“That so?”

“Yes.”

“You’re the good guys?”

“We are, Wade,” he said. “But I gotta tell you, I’ve got some doubts about the people you’ve been running around with. I’m not sure they’re up to the sort of thing you want to be involved in, and I don’t—“

Wade slammed his hands down on the table and interrupted, with a triumphant grin, “Fear Down and We Know All.”

Joe blinked. So did Paul. “What’s that?” asked Joe.

“That’s your approach. You spent a couple minutes tryin’ to develop a rapport, ‘cuz you knew a stern posture would be dumb, so you went for a sympathetic tone, an’ then you made your interrogation approach. You’re blendin’ the ‘Fear Down’ approach with ‘We Know All.’ Took me a second t’ figure it out, ‘cuz ah was lookin’ for just one approach, but y’all went and blended two an’ came at me with both of ‘em.” He pointed to the files. “Izzat folder stuffed with blank papers? Or totally irrelevant stuff, like th’ manual suggests? Wait, no, ah’m sorry, y’all are FBI. Probably got y’all’s own manual. Y’all don’t use the Army Intelligence and Interrogation Handbook, do ya? Ah got mah copy at Barnes & Noble.”

Joe stared at him, his friendly demeanor vanishing. He took in a long, slow breath. Paul looked at him with more concern than he intended to show.

“An’ y’all still can’t process whut jus’ happened, ‘cuz all y’all can think is that this kid talks like a dumb-ass redneck, so he’s gotta be an idiot, am ah right?

“So whadda we do now?” Wade asked. “Ah don’t really need t’ go t’ the bathroom, by the way. Ah jus’ figured you’d offer an’ then pull it away from me t’ put some extra stress on me, but really, ah’m fine. This is fun. It’s like that time Mr. Choy pulled that pop quiz on us all in civics an’ didn’t think ah studied. What’s next?”

* * *

Even angels suffered flaws.

That they enjoyed an existence free of many mortal limitations was never in dispute. Ageless and powerful, they lived without many of the needs of humanity. There was no hunger, nor deprivation, nor fear of disease. Apart from extraordinary circumstance, death would only ever be temporary. Their hierarchy and society reached for lofty goals. They dedicated themselves to compassion and honesty, to the defense of the weak and service to the divine.

For all that, they were imperfect, and as uniquely made as any living being. Arrogance abounded, though often muted in its expression.
Though they did not suffer the influence of the mortal body, whose queasy stomachs and trembling nerves could exacerbate the impact of fear, an angel’s courage could still fail.

Angels could miscommunicate. They could be cliquish. Insecure. Judgmental.

Rachel had always faced her flaws and her fears head-on, openly in front of all of her peers, and thus never quite fit in among her own kind. In the beginning there were only the angels, and their world was perfect. Then came the Fall, when those who could not rise above their flaws turned against the rest and tried to overthrow the divine order. The faithful accepted that they, too, were flawed, but vowed to overcome their faults, and soon comforted themselves with the belief that they largely succeeded. Admission of imperfection became a polite conceit—but, being the direct servants of the divine, those imperfections were never considered significant.

Rachel had never accepted that. She was flawed; perhaps not quite as badly as the fuck-monkeys who created and inhabited Hell, but just the same, she knew she was broken. She could name some of her faults and knew there were others she could not see in herself.
Every other angel had such faults, too, and they all knew it, but Rachel—not uniquely, it must be said—refused to pretend to perfection.

And so it passed that Rachel did not fit in, which inherently marked her among her peers as genuinely, obviously flawed.

Angels loved. They enjoyed deep friendships, and close bonds as warm and accepting as mortal families, and passionate romances… all among their own kind.

Rachel once loved another angel. She experimented with others, engaging in dalliances and trysts, but only once did she fall in love. Their peers saw chiseled perfection, and for a long time so did
she, until he burdened Rachel with his flaws more severely and more thoughtlessly than he could ever recognize. She left him, to the shock and sharp judgment of her peers, further exposing her many flaws.

Angels could be imperfect, and stubborn, and honest, and terribly lonely.

That loneliness, at least, was now a thing of the past. Rachel lay atop her dangerous, seductive lover, who kissed and manipulated Rachel’s body with hunger and skill. The demon knew that Rachel was flawed, and did not judge, and loved her.

Rachel trembled in ecstasy, writhing over Lorelei just as the succubus intended,
bathing in sensuality and acceptance. Seductive fingers stroked her sides, taunting her sensitive breasts and more while her kiss occupied the angel’s mouth.

Mortal hands slid up her back, warm and lustful and loving. Rachel’s breath quickened as Alex moved in behind her. She broke her kiss with Lorelei, looking down through dangling blonde locks at her lover’s wicked smile. The succubus spread Rachel’s legs open with her own. Rachel put up no resistance.

He was, in so many ways, every bit as flawed as Rachel—and, being mortal, had many more burdens to bear. Rachel saw those flaws. She also saw his strengths, and his charm, and the light of his soul. She knew truths about him she could not share. He held complete faith in her judgment, and she loved him all the more for it.

Rachel’s breath shook as she felt him tease her, probing gently to ready her for the coupling she now desperately wanted. She looked down at Lorelei, her lip quivering and her brow knit together in a pleading expression, almost apologizing for this, for wanting him as much as her.
Balancing multiple lovers was never easy, nor something one could take for granted. Entering this relationship, Rachel hadn’t known how things would work out. She didn’t know it could be this good.

She felt his cock slip between her and Lorelei. She pushed her hips
down, capturing his length between herself and her other lover just to enjoy the intimacy the three shared.

In the eyes of many of Rachel’s peers, Alex and Lorelei vindicated all Rachel had ever done and had ever been. In the eyes of others, the
pair represented glaring evidence of just how broken Rachel truly was.

Fuck ‘em. She knew she was flawed. She knew she made mistakes. She also had love, and if it was not the love of other angels, that suited her just fine. She had it much better here in the Bedroom of Misfit Toys. She had made love with angels
before, but those angels had never loved her for her flaws as well as her strengths… and not one of them had ever fucked her like this.

She gave in to them both, to a demon grown tired of evil and the mortal who’d never given a second thought to being anything but good. Rachel soaked in Lorelei’s embrace while Alex penetrated her, filling her and bringing her to complete surrender.

Alex took it slow, indulging her in a rhythm that would inevitably build with time. His lips trailed up and down her back as he worked his hips, holding himself up from the bed with steady arms. She felt him enjoy her deeply, and knew Lorelei could feel it, too. They stared into one another’s eyes, sharing him through the bond that first brought them together.

Rachel’s lust for him rarely abated. She wondered, sometimes, how Lorelei could stand it, when she was created to feed on her prey’s lusts and his pleasures. If Rachel longed for him so badly, how much more would a succubus want?

She moaned with pleasure as Alex thrust into her, pushing back against him and needing more and more. She respected his struggle for self-control. Adored him for it. But she adored his lapses, too, and enjoyed them without complaint.