Page 41 of Living with Death

“Hmm, never the face.”

“Did he ever hurt you?” His darkness whispers around him, his eyes the color of coal.

“Me?” I was invisible to him, but when he did look at me, I saw something I could never place in his eyes.

Anger?

Regret?

I didn’t know. I tried to stay clear of my father.

“No. Dad didn’t hit me.”

The darkness fades, Azrael seeming pleased with my answer. “Sometimes, when I heard them fighting, I’d also hear how she’d trapped him by getting pregnant with me. How his parents made him marry her, and they’d never let him walk away from his wife and child. And if he did, they’d cut him off.” I roll my eyes. “He was an awful drunk.”

I didn’t believe any of the words he spat. He was a mean, nasty drunk, saying anything he could to hurt Mom. I never understood why she stayed. What was the point? I tried to ask her once, but the words got caught in my throat. She and I never spoke about anything profound.

“My father came from old money; it was the reason he could buy his successful real estate business.” I run my hand over the table. “Sometimes, when he sobered up, I guess he would feel slightly remorseful. He’d take us out to eat somewhere lovely until the shadows in his eyes reappeared, and he remembered he hated us.”

“The restaurant we went to,” he says.

“Yes, or some other place. And the gifts, oh, we were showered with beautiful things. I looked at those items with disgust, knowing I only got them because of guilt. Here, I did something shitty again. Here’s a bracelet, some clothes, and even a car to make up for it. Sometimes I thought he bought them for show. To make other people believe we had this perfect life.”

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“Don’t be. You didn’t cause it.” I sit up, looking out. Most people would have appreciated the items, but I only wanted their love, and I only wanted them to love one another. A great blue heron soars across the water, reminding me of our flight earlier. The blue heron lands on a set of rocks, shaking his feathers. “No one besides Cook knows anything about my parents.”

Azrael gives me a sincere closed-lip smile that reaches his beautiful eyes. Eyes that I realize I could get lost in. “I’m honored you told me.”

I nod, gnawing on my inner cheek. “That reminds me, you never told me about your family.”

He chuckles, tapping his fingers on the table. A few people are seated two tables down from us. I twist the ring on my finger, repeatedly pulling my sweater's sleeves over my hands to keep the chill off.

“I have three brothers.”

“And who are they?” I run a thumb over the side of my mug.

He licks his lips, his eyes dancing. “Well, there’s Hypnos, also known as the god of sleep. Michael the Archangel, he’s the best of us. And then there is Lucifer, who is––”

“The devil,” I say, swallowing.

“Correct.”

I look down at my drink. “Sometimes I forget who you are,” I murmur.

“Forgetting won’t change anything, darling.”

I slant my head, breathing in the chilled air, hearing the ocean brush against the rocks on the other side of the deck. Three brothers.Hypnos, Michael, and Lucifer.

An unwelcome shiver runs down my spine. “Do you speak to any of your brothers?”

“I do. But as I mentioned before, it’s not often. Hypnos and I are the closest, but I speak to Michael if something weighs on me.”

“He speaks to Michael the Archangel.” I shake my head, smiling in disbelief. “Do any of them have families outside of siblings?”

“Hypnos does. He has a wife.”

“But you’ve never?”

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