Page 27 of Drown Like Heaven
I got dressed, tossing my towel into a wet heap in the corner of my bedroom. My bed was unmade, the shades drawn allaround the room so I’d never know what time of day it was. Not like it really mattered, though. The work I did wasn’t dependent on any sort of schedule.
My hand raked through my wet hair as I walked into the kitchen, everything in a shade of black. Black wood, black marble, black tile, black paint. I hadn’t picked out any of it. Almost nothing in this apartment had anything to do with me.
I didn’t care. It didn’t affect me.
I pulled open the door to the freezer, cold air drifting out as I grabbed some frozen meal out of a stack of many. I didn’t give it a second glace before throwing it in the microwave and punching a few buttons to get it started. There were a few racks of weights shoved up against a wall in my living room, but as with everything else, they weren’t enough to curb my appetite for pain anymore. I needed to start lifting cars or some shit.
The microwave beeped and I grabbed my dinner, peeling off the plastic covering and shoveling the hot food into my mouth. If I’d been human, I would’ve burnt the fuck out of my tongue. But I wasn’t. The only thing that could burn me was hellfire.
After eating, I shoved my Glock in my waistband and my xiphos in my pocket, then pulled my hood up and left my apartment, heading out into the darkening twilight. The shower helped, but I knew I’d start to smell like an angel again soon. Thankfully, it wasn’t going to take me long to get done what I needed to.
Plus, smelling like an angel didn’t actually put me in danger—not once the demons got close enough to figure out whattypeof angel I was. Others had to be more careful about that shit, but not me. I only got rid of my scent so I could be more stealthy when working. It was perhaps the sole perk of my angelic aspect. The fact that demons didn’t want me.
Butnobodyfucking wanted me.
That was the other side of the coin.
My boots scuffed on the sidewalk while I walked, head down.
Demons were a lot more common than angels, and a lot easier to kill. Especially when they didn’t have necrichor in their blood—the substance ichor turned into when it touched demon blood. Ichor was liquid gold in angels’ veins, shimmering and moving and full of power, but once a demon took it…the substance became corrupted. Like obsidian shards flowing in the bloodstream, its potency depleting rapidly.
But necrichor was the only way demons were ever able to touch any amount of the power than angels had, so they were desperate for it. Like drug addicts, they were always looking for their next hit, another shot of that pure liquid gold.
I tried to kill them before it got to that point.
Chapter 9
Dakota
“First lab will have a shorter lab report, like last semester.”
I rested my chin on my hand, Dr. Killshaw’s voice steady against the rain slamming into the windows. My sweater and hair were still a little damp from the walk here. Umbrellas were more useful when the rain wasn’t also accompanied by wind.
“Followed by a presentation, and a longer lab report—you all know the drill,” he continued and pushed his sleeves further up his forearms, muscles flexing. His posture was confident, relaxed—even though I knew he hadn’t been teaching this class very long. “But we’re going to be starting witheveryoneon polymers, which isn’t typically what I like to do. Unfortunately, the poly lab is needed for other classes later on in the semester, so we gotta get all our stuff done this month. I had to move around the lectures a bit, but it should still be alright. We’ll make do.”
A girl near the front raised her hand.
Dr. Killshaw nodded in her direction. “Go ahead.”
“Will report due dates be adjusted? And are we still with our same group?”
“Yes to both. I’m working with my TAs to get the final schedule out, but I don’t want you worrying about rushing to get any reports done. We know this is stressful, which is why we’replanning for it.” He walked to his desk and leaned back against it, half-sitting on the ledge and crossing his arms over his chest. “It won’t end up too different from your previous semester. Just some shuffling.”
A few people around the room nodded their understanding. I just observed, sitting almost all the way in the back—like I’d been doing since day one. It was quieter back here. And I didn’t want people watching me.
One of the TAs, who was named Anna, spoke up. “I’ll be having extra office hours, as well. So please feel free to swing by if you’re needing help with anything. I’m here for you guys. Like Dr. Killshaw said—” she gestured to him “—it won’t be that different. But it is kinda flip-flopped.”
I wondered if Dr. Killshaw remembered seeing me at the gas station.
I also wondered what he thought of that interaction, or what he thought of me working there. I wasn’tembarrassednecessarily, but I did sometimes forget how shitty the place looked from the outside. The potholes and crumbling curbs were normal to me, and the severely worn-off paint was all I’d ever seen. I never thought about how maybe Ericshouldrepaint the outside of the place.
Whatever. Dr. Killshaw was the one who chose to go there.
My pulse jumped into my throat when he made eye contact with me from the front of the room.
I quickly looked down at the table, running my eyes over my notebook like I was reviewing something, but the page was blank. When I chanced a glance upwards again, I saw he wasn’t looking at me any more. Obviously.
My eyes roamed over his rolled-up sleeves, his strong forearms, his defined muscles flexed taut. He wasso fucking attractive. It was almost difficult to focus on anything else.
