Authors: Amber Hughey
“So what’s the story about solan and umbren marrying?” she quickly asked, trying for a less bloody subject.
Matt gave her a wide smile. The wound had healed completely, much to her surprise. Gabriel shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, pushing it off his face. She wanted to do that, to run her fingers through the thick ebony strands, but she barely refrained. Instead, she played with the hem of the tablecloth, rolling the lace in her fingertips.
Matt looked at her, giving her a cynical smile as he explained, “I’m not saying it doesn’t happen, but no one’s family is happy about it – especially not the solan side – when something like that happens,” he paused, wondering if he should tell her the story about his family. With a shrug, he figured at the very least, she’d enjoy it.
“My mother’s parents didn’t talk to them for just over a hundred years. Basically, it’s like West Side Story – you know, Tony and Maria falling in
love, and them being from completely different backgrounds.” With that, he paused again, collecting his thoughts about his family’s history. “According to just about every angelus, it shouldn’t happen, but it does. And Cassandra and Marcus’s – my parents, that is – their attitude was fuck everyone if they didn’t like it. Helped that my dad had money, but even if he hadn’t, I think they still would have gotten together, from everything I’d heard.”
With that, Gabriel cut in, “I’d expected that out of him. Never saw it with her, though. Cassandra was always the ‘good girl’. Never broke the rules until him. They tried their damnedest to make her leave him, but all it did was make her more determined to be with him. They eloped, went to Canada. Had Matt, and went back to see her family after they’d made a family for themselves…probably twenty years later,” Gabriel finished.
“And,” Matt added, “according to Grandma Nicolette, they were still madly in love. I know they still are. At least, judging on how they act, they are”
“Huh,” she said softly. “So what about a human and an angelus? More common or less?”
Aleks sauntered into the room and plunked down at one of the empty chairs at the table. He smirked at her, making her want to slap the smirk off his face. “More common than an umbren getting with a solan, but less common than them getting with the same race. Humans do have a chance - even if it’s
a small chance - of surviving the change, whereas an umbren can’t become a solan, and vice versa.”
She glanced at Gabriel. “So, I was reading that the ruling couple are a solan and umbren? Are they…” She paused. He looked at her expectantly, wondering what kind of question she was asking this time. “Are they married? I assume that the angelus do get married, what with Owen marrying Vicki.”
Gabriel smiled and shook his head. “They can be, but they’re not always. Confusing yet?” he asked with a laugh. “The ruling couple
must
be composed of an umbren and a solan. They don’t have to be born angelus, either. It’s easier if they’re married, but there are so few mixed couples that it’s hard to find one that are willing to rule. Each reigning couple rules for at least two-hundred and fifty years. That gives them enough time to work on policies that usually take multiple human generations. The current couple aren’t married to each other. They both have separate families.”
“How did they get chosen?” she asked curiously, accepting the hot cup of coffee that Matt slid her way.
“Typically the current reigning couple groom a second, younger couple. Usually a couple with the same ideals. It doesn’t always work, though. When a couple has to step down, usually because of death or major mental disability, without appointing an heir, the council chooses the next ruling couple. That’s the
only time the Council has any say in who the ruling couple is. Otherwise, they stick to their own business. Sometimes,” he continued, “only one half of the couple is groomed. Usually, when that happens, it’s because the reigning couple are still in discussion as to who the second will be.”
“So, going to back to an earlier topic, if Vicki hadn’t been with Owen, she wouldn’t have been allowed to change?” Amalia asked, mind quickly reverting, her thoughts flooding her mind with endless questions about the angelus.
Gabriel leaned back and steepled his fingers, resting his chin on the forefingers. “No, she wouldn’t have. One of the base laws regarding that whole process is that the human
must
be in a relationship – a romantic relationship, if you will, to change. And that’s not all. There are interviews, questionnaires, basically a bunch of red tape for a human to jump through before they can turn.”
“What if the human doesn’t want to change?” She continued, pressing for more answers.
He shook his head with a laugh, and then brushed the strands of hair off his forehead. “Well, no one is going to force a human to change. If they’re in a permanent relationship with an angelus, though, it’s easier for them to change. Not just the physical transformation, but there are other benefits, less visible benefits, that is.”
“Such as?”
Gabriel gestured towards Aleks to take over. Aleks shook his head, but when Gabriel glared, he sighed.
With a serious look at Amalia, Aleks answered, “other than the wings, the quicker healing, the former human picks up the rest of our benefits. Heightened senses, for one. We have better eyesight, better hearing, greater sense of smell, those type things. We’re a lot stronger than a normal human is, too.”
She continued to barrage them with questions, until Matt finally stopped the questions with an elevated eyebrow.
“What?” She challenged. “I’m a librarian. On a quest for knowledge and all that? I’m supposed to be inquisitive.”
He didn’t say anything, just looked at her with a smile playing on his lips. “Maybe we should make you research this all yourself. You know, find other people to question? Maybe ones that won’t answer them so easily? It would make it so much more interesting for us that way.”
She shot him a dirty look, and he grinned back at her, unrepentant.
Gabriel looked at her over his new cup of coffee that Matt had placed in front of him. Ignoring the spat between Matt and Amalia, he continued, “longer lives, resistant to more diseases and illnesses, healthier in general.”
“When you say longer lives, you aren’t talking a few years, are you?”
He shook his head, and then took a sip of his coffee. “No, and not decades, either. Centuries. On average, I’d say that the lifespan of an average angelus is anywhere from two to three thousand years. On average,” he reiterated, knowing she would understand that some would live much shorter, and some would live much longer. Hopefully she wouldn’t ask him how old he was, he thought, as he really didn’t want to admit that he was three-quarters of a millenia. If the wings and fangs didn’t freak her out, her finding out that he was about ten generations apart from her surely would.
She stared at him, then at Matt and Aleks. “So, you aren’t even close to my age.”
They all shook their heads. Matt looked around awkwardly. “I’m the closest, and I’m just over one-fifty.”
“Still a baby,” teased Aleks, who then blocked a punch from the younger solan.
“Then how…” she trailed off as she looked from Gabriel, to the blue checkered tablecloth, not sure if she really wanted to know how old the man was that she was attracted to.
“Do you really want to know?” he asked, giving her a way out of knowing just how old he was, how many generations separated them, knowing the answer would probably scare her away, as it did
many humans. Then again, he amended internally, she’d shown surprising fortitude in response to his other ‘characteristics’. He decided that if she truly wanted to know, he’d tell her.
She slowly shook her head. She’d learned a lot about Gabriel and the angelus in the last few days, but she was sure she didn’t want to know just how old he was. ”Not now, at least.”
He breathed a sigh of relief, glad for the reprieve, however brief.
Gabriel felt a vibration on his hip as his phone rang. It was Sylvie, he thought in disgust as he frowned at the caller ID. Just what he needed: a call from ex-semi-girlfriend who was more annoying than listening to a Katy Perry concert in person. He’d pushed her away completely more than a year ago, and she was still hounding him. Maybe it was time to try a different tactic, he thought to himself.
“Yes,” he answered, sounding annoyed from the beginning. She began questioning him, asking him where he’d been, who he was with, what he was doing and why hadn’t he called her to let her know where he was? He sighed as the interrogation continued to sputter through the phone.
“Sylvia,” he cut her off from starting another harassing line of words, “I can’t talk. I’m in the middle of business. I’ve told you to stop calling. If you keep calling, I’m going to tell your parents.” That shut her up, he thought with relish, hearing just silence on the other end. Sylvie was a pain in the ass, but she listened to her parents. And he knew that the bitchy little solan didn’t want her parents to know that she was harassing him, let alone calling him at all.
To her parents, she was a prim, proper little solan girl and he knew they thought everything she
did wrong was because of him. Unfortunately for them, they didn’t realize that they’d raised a blasted witch who was only concerned with money, sex and getting as much of both as she could. He guessed that they’d be extremely shocked to find out what she was hiding from them, and Sylvie knew Gabriel wasn’t above telling them about her exploits to get her off his back. Whether or not they’d believe him was another matter altogether, but for now it was a potent weapon against the insolent bitch.
He hung up the phone with a suffering sigh. He didn’t look at Amalia, dreading another question about either what he was, what they were searching for, and who Sylvie was. Somehow, he didn’t want her to know about Sylvie. Then the thought of Sylvie finding out about Amalia crossed his mind, unsettling him. He was pretty sure Amalia could take Sylvie in a fight, but he really didn’t want it to come to that. As interesting as it would be…
When his phone rang again, he almost didn’t answer it. After two rings, he did. It was work, thankfully, he thought happily. After answering the phone and scribbling down a few words, he stood up and looked at Matt.
“Well, we’ve got a new lead. One of the humans that went missing, Patricia, works at Bright Oak Stables. There’s a number of solan who have horses there, and I’d bet that at least one of them knew-knows,” he corrected, “her.”
“I’ll go with you,” Amalia said, standing up next to him.
“That’s unnecc-“
“Either you take me, or I follow you on foot. And I will. Don’t think that I won’t. Or, I’ll take one of the other cars. And believe me, I’m a much better snoop when you want me to be there,” she said sweetly, knowing that the threat worked in the books, and hoping that it would work in real life. “Plus, don’t you want to know the best part?” she said with a bright smile.
He ran a hand through his thick hair, not sure if he really wanted to know what she considered ‘the best part’. “Um,” he said, stalling.
She gave him a little glare, but only slightly damping the smile on her face. “I know people who work there.”
He raised his eyebrows. Now that could be a useful bit of leverage, he thought.
He sighed, and rubbed the back of his head. This was going to be another long day, he thought to himself. He gestured towards the cars, and she rewarded him with another bright smile that astounded him. He sighed and returned her smile, though not quite as brightly.
“You know,” he said persuasively, “I was going to ask you to come with me. Honest.”
She gave him a doubtful look as she pushed back a loose tendril of hair. “I’m sure you were,” she
said sweetly, “and now’s your chance to make sure you don’t miss out on my expertise.”
With a slight expression of surprise, he realized she was right. Hell, he thought to himself, he had brought her into the investigation. Now’s as good a time as every to utilize the skills she’d learned.
At least, he considered, he wasn’t spending the day with Sylvie. Now
that
would be torture.
At Bright Oak Stables, Amalia felt like she’d returned home. She’d ridden at this stable when she was much younger, and would have continued if it weren’t for the fact that she’d had to sell her horse, Ghost, to help pay for college. Before she started college, though, she’d been a well-known jumper around her local shows and stables, and she still missed it.
She’d contemplated fencing in a few of her acres, and turning an old pole-barn into a makeshift stable, but after crunching the numbers, she didn’t feel quite financially secure enough to make that leap. Maybe she could lease a horse, she considered, looking around the well-kept stable.
She hadn’t realized that Patricia worked there. She wondered if she’d known her as a competitor. She recalled the articles she’d read earlier about Patricia, remembered that she’d grown up in South-West Ohio, and that they’d ridden in different circles for most of the shows. If they’d run across each other, they hadn’t connected, and now it bothered her for some reason.