Where the Lines Overlap
Chapter 10: Where Did the Party Go?
Ashleigh tipped her head back and smiled stupidly into the strobe lights above her, shaking her hair back over her shoulders and rocking forwards into the tall, handsome stranger in front of her. He was warm and solidly built, pulling her into his body tightly as they wove through the crowd of people. His dark brown eyes were captivating and mysterious and – woah, woah, woah, hold up. The lights swept around the room, this time revealing the hint of a tattoo beneath his partially-unbuttoned shirt. Hot damn. Faintly, she heard herself make a noise of approval which (luckily) he seemed not to have noticed. His hands were resting on her waist, burning through the fabric of her dress and she was close enough that she could feel his pulse hammer away in his chest. The thrill of finally telling Kali to fuck off was flooding through her and just to add more insult, she swirled her hips and slowly danced further back into the crowd.
Mystery Guy, as she'd decided to name him, bent down low so that his cheek touched hers and his lips brushed lightly against her earlobe as he whispered into her ear, "I'm not sure that was such a good idea." His voice was rough and low in her ear but with dark and sensual undertones that made her shiver.
"What was a good idea?" Her face was the very picture of innocence but she was too drunk to hold that up, so she let her face relax back into a mischievous smirk.
She swore she heard him chuckle. His response was instant, his throaty voice somehow managing to cut through the pounding beats of the music blasting through the room. "Angering Kali."
"Why? What's she gonna do to me, huh? Isn't she supposed to 'rise above the pettiness of mere mortals?' Please." Ashleigh scoffed after a lengthy sigh and an eye roll. Some small part of her brain was screaming at her to go find Loki and Aph before she did something stupid while drunk off her ass and ruined her reputation forever, but the larger, drunker part of her brain was perfectly happy right next to her Mystery Guy.
He responded to her movements and one of his hand drifted down to her hip, brushing the fabric with his fingertips leisurely. Ashleigh felt her breathing hitch in her throat and she blinked up at him with wide eyes. How was this guy having this big of an effect on her? She felt like a middle-schooler about to take her date to the shitty school disco: her knees were shaking, her heart racing, acutely aware of everything about this guy that she didn't even know the name of. His lips were brushing her cheek again as he whispered, "You fascinate me for some reason. You feel different –" and her heart dropped like a stone into the pit of her stomach as real life set in, abruptly triggered by the way his mouth twisted as he said the word 'different'. No. No, this was too much. He knew she was human, holy shit, what was she going to do? Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears and spots flashing before her eyes – it was too dark, too hot in this room, she had to get out. There was no way she was going to become the victim of another godly fine dining venture, once had been more than enough.
Quick as lightning, she shoved him off of her with all the strength that she could muster and backed far away into the crowd of people behind them. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught her terrified expression reflected the curved surface of a martini glass balanced on a waiter's tray. This was all too much, she should never have listened to Aphrodite – what had she been thinking? Why had she agreed to let the goddess drag her along to one of these events? It'd been a flawed idea from the start, a profoundly stupid one. The sight of the dark stranger who had only moments ago been pressed against her, reaching his arm out towards her made her bolt. Shoving through the crowds of gods and goddesses, all swaying to the beat proved to be near impossible, her alcohol-addled brain failing to make sense of what was happening. Her chest seized again and she bent over, coughing and choking. Shit, was she having a panic attack? Here? Now of all times? Fear rocketed through her veins as memories of being tied up in a dark, musty room were brought to the front of her mind. The hotel function room she'd been trapped in still flashed through her thoughts every time she closed her eyes and she curled her hands into fists, scrubbing at her eyes.
Ashleigh burst through the glass double doors leading out to the world outside the house, a world where she couldn't hear anything but her own heartbeats pounding in her ears and couldn't see anything but blurred, unimportant images. She pinpointed the shape of a stone bench a couple feet in front of her and stumbled hurriedly towards it, her stomach lurching – please don't throw up, not here, not now – and pitched forwards, barely catching herself with shaking arms and lowering herself down so she could sit on the bench. Her legs were jiggling up and down, her nervous twitch. The air outside was cool and crisp, cleaner than the stuffy atmosphere of the house and she took advantage of that by squeezing her eyes shut for a few seconds and leaning heavily over her knees, focusing on breathing in and out. Her fingers were still shaking and the chafe marks around her wrists from the first time she'd met Loki, the ones that had long since faded, still itched. The only thing she could compare it to were the phantom limbs that amputees described in interviews she'd read.
She was distracted from her thoughts when a body plonked down beside her on the bench, a modest distance away, her head shot up in stunned disbelief. Mystery Guy had followed her. He looked deeply confused and unsure of what he was supposed to do now, worry lines wrinkling his forehead and his dark eyes showed concern. Her heart rose to her throat and Ashleigh looked away, intensely embarrassed. Great. How do I get him to leave? She'd had too many panic attacks in front of gods this week and it was getting pathetic. This shitty situation she was in, dealing with visions and nightmares beyond reasoning and having her entire world flipped upside down, rendered her completely vulnerable and weak, coming closer and closer to the inevitable complete mental and emotional breakdown.
So lost in her own thoughts, she didn't even notice him leaning forwards to brush her hair off her sticky cheeks. His fingers were cool when he trailed them down the side of her face. The gesture made her heart skip a few beats, but then again, she was drunk. That could have been it. Breathing heavily against the threat of more tears, she looked down and blinked hard. "You are upset." The statement broke the silence and Ashleigh looked up at him, snorting self-deprecatingly. "Why?" Mystery Gut cocked his head to the side quizzically. "Did I do something?" He tried to catch her gaze with pleading eyes but the tears burning in her eyes told her that was a bad idea.
"No," she muttered hoarsely, wishing she could just keep her shit together and that she could be stronger. "This is all my fault." A hiccup escaped her mouth and she leaned forwards over her knees, breathing heavily. "I just got a little freaked out. You're fine." Ashleigh forced a smile even she could tell was fake. She'd always been a really terrible actress.
"You've had too much to drink," he observed quietly after sitting with her for a few more moments of silence. At her weirded out look at the observation, he hurried to add, "The alcohol might be making you upset. You're flushed bright red and –" he reached out to her face and wiped a tear off her face "- you're crying." He said, holding his finger out as if he was trying to make a point. Her throat clenched and she only just stopped herself from making another pathetic sound. God dammit, this sucked.
Uncomfortable with the observation he'd just made, she turned to sarcasm. "What can I say? I'm a fun drunk." Trying to change the subject, she smiled again, but this time it was more realistic. A quiet chuckle coming from next to her made the smile wider and she joined in, tossing her hair back off her shoulders and sitting up straight.
Now he was out in the light, she could fully see what he looked like. He was – there was no other word for it – beautiful. His eyes were like chips of onyx, deep and dark, framed by a thick fringe of black lashes. Jet black brows raised playfully, wrinkling his forehead ever so slightly. With his high cheekbones, clefted chin and strong, straight nose, he could have been related to Horus – the god who had tried to kill her at the dinner function. She hid her violently sick feeling and smiled nervously, her eyes still skipping over his face. Mystery Guy shook his head slowly and his shaggy black hair fell in his eyes as he confessed, "You are amusing, you must be a hit at gatherings such as this." The grin he cracked in response to her smile was bright white against his smooth copper skin.
His comment earned him a flummoxed, playful look after Ashleigh had stopped gawking at his impossible features. "What, like parties?" she asked after she'd recovered, giggling drunkenly. "Dude, where the hell are you even from? You talk like you're from 250 BC." Not knowing quite what possessed her to do it, she knocked her shoulder against his softly in a playful gesture.
He blinked, confused and furrowed his dark eyebrows. His hand came up to rub at his shoulder. "Of course I do. That's around the time of my birth, I am a god, after all." She laughed softly at his blunt response.
Tilting her head back and smirking, she rolled her eyes"… right. I forgot about that. Which one are you? You guys are all the same to me because you all hate me equally." Ashleigh paused, tilted her head to the side and frowned before correcting, "Well, except for Loki, but that's pretty debatable because he probably thinks I'm a huge pain in his ass." She stopped again, marveling at the serious case of word vomit she had going on. "Wow, I am a chatty drunk, but hey - those pink drinks were good," she smirked lightly. The words had just spilled out of her mouth, like she couldn't stop talking, but she liked the feeling. It stopped her worrying about everything and making her feel like she had to examine everything she had to say under a microscope.
He nodded slowly, not catching on at all, she could see. "I see. I am Heka —"
Excited because she knew this guy from all her mythology classes in college, she burst out, "Oh, like 'Egyptian-god-Heka'?"
Heka looked at her oddly, maybe a little weirded out by her enthusiasm. "Yes," the god said with a trace of amusement and possible exasperation. He cleared his throat and turned away from her but the corners of his mouth were twitching in another one of his little grins before he looked up at her, his head tilted to the side in confusion. "I don't understand." he stated, his dark eyes boring into her own. "Why do all the immortals dislike you? You don't seem as phenomenally irritating as you describe yourself as being." Heka said earnestly.
"Wow," she snickered and swung her legs around so that she was sitting cross-legged on the bench, facing him. Her shoes lay discarded on the ground beside her. Ashleigh leaned forwards, still giggling, "Thanks so much for that outstandingly ego-inflating compliment."
He raised his jet black eyebrows, still looking at her with that odd expression but he was smiling too, as if he couldn't believe how strange she was but kind of liked it anyways. She recognized that look on her own face whenever she'd be standing in front of the mirror, marveling at the impressive bedhead she had going on and her mind would flit to Loki and the snarky comments he usually made about her bedhead. "You're welcome." He accepted with a mildly confused air.
Ashleigh dropped her face into her hands, caught off guard by his obliviousness. "... Jesus Christ," she sighed loudly before beginning again with a loud, mock-businesslike clap, "Anyways, I just let you grope me for ten minutes without even introducing myself. How rude." Ashleigh shook her head, smirking as Heka progressively got redder at the mention of him groping her.
Heka started to defend himself, looking affronted, "I-I was not..." It became apparent soon that he couldn't find the words he needed, so he settled on: "Are you usually this cynical?"
"Only on days that end with a 'y'." She answered without missing a beat, but her smile soon turned into a grimace as she realized quite how true that was. Ashleigh looked down and her blonde hair fell in a curtain around her face as she tried to plaster on a happier expression. She was a pretty bipolar drunk, always excitable and peppy one minute and snarky and bitter the next.
Heka, however, hadn't seemed to have understood the joke. "But—" he began, confused because yes, all days end in a 'y', but she wasn't planning on explaining that to him today. She didn't have the brain power to spare while she was drunk.
"Yeah, we're not going there," she shut him down quickly, shifting her weight awkwardly. How was she supposed to introduce herself? Ashleigh the human? Wow, that sounded impressive. She honestly meant to say something normal but as soon as she opened her mouth, her word vomit took over. "So, I am Ashleigh Waldenberg, maker of shitty coffee, server of greasy diner food and earner of the minimum wage - plus whatever tips I can get," Ashleigh tacked on as an afterthought and shot a dry look at the slightly stunned Egyptian god, forcing a laugh at his expression to lighten the atmosphere.
"You're human." That seemed to be all that he'd gathered from her long-winded introduction. Heka exhaled heavily and rubbed his hand across his jaw, stressed and not able to understand what she was doing here.
Not seeing the use in trying to lie to him or sugar coating it, she shrugged in a what can I do sort of way and tried to make light of her situation, "Uh huh."
He tensed and turned to her with an animated, emphatic expression. "I don't understand —" Heka started, angling his body towards her and she leaned back, shuffling back across the stone bench to keep the comfortable distance between them. It felt weird to have another god who looked so much like Horus, the god that nearly killed her, to come so close to her. He noticed her discomfort and leaned back
"What," she scoffed, "you want me to say it in French? Oui." She pursued her lips tightly and looked down at her feet, tucking flyaway wisps of hair behind her ears and tugging her dress down.
Heka sighed, as his dark eyes skipped around her face, both curious and puzzled. "Why are you here? This is a gathering for gods and goddesses, not their human pets." His head was cocked to the side and his eyebrows were raised high on his forehead, his tone nor accusing or confrontational but the derogatory name still stung.
"Excuse me, I am not a pet," Ashleigh corrected distastefully, shaking her head back and forth. She was beyond done with degrading remarks from gods and goddesses and wasn't afraid to let them know that. Feeling a little guilty as she looked at Heka's expression, she added on, "I'm more like a girl Loki found the need to help out. No pet type shit of any kind."
"I apologize, my mistake," he bowed his head low and looked up at her through his lashes. Her stomach suddenly felt like it was filled with butterflies, bashing around inside her and her breath caught in her throat as his hand slowly reached up to trail across the side of her face in a comforting gesture. Why he felt the need to comfort her, she didn't know but she found herself unable to function as he touched the side of her face with his cool fingers.
"What are you doing?" she managed in a quiet, strained voice, not pushing his hand off because he didn't look like he was about to cause her harm.
"So much pain," he whispered under his breath, his thumb skimming over her cheekbone. Her stomach clenched in response. What was he talking about? Was he talking about her… dreams? "So much fear." A tense pause. She didn't breathe, didn't move, her fingers clenched around the stone bench as she tried to keep herself in check. She didn't know why she was so freaked out about this, but as his fingers gripped her chin lightly and tilted her face up to his, he asked her, "Why? Why are you so… broken?"
Ashleigh raised her eyebrows, silently daring him to pity her. Could he feel what her dreams were doing to her? How could he tell? Unanswered questions flitted through her thoughts but she steeled herself and looked at him carefully. "What do you mean?" she asked tersely. It was hard to restrain the urge to defend herself, to snap back that she wasn't 'broken' and she didn't need him to pity her. She'd had enough of people pitying her. Ashleigh never broke their gaze, curious brown eyes boring into her own green eyes.
"I mean," he paused to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, "I can feel it inside you. You're screaming out for help. Why are you screaming?" Heka cocked his head slightly, a perplexed and empathetic expression settling over his face. His questions were asked with a childlike air of innocence and that spurred her to answer helplessly.
"I don't know." Ashleigh managed, dropping the façade because it wasn't working and her voice cracked on the last word. Looking away, she blinked hot and angry tears away in a last ditch effort not to break down completely. His hand brushed against hers questioningly and as she made no move to shake him off, he laced his fingers through hers in a comforting gesture. He seemed almost empathetic, his expression soft and hopeful as he approached her. It was quite obvious that he didn't believe her, his raised eyebrows telling her that much.
Retrospectively, she figured that if she wasn't drunk, she wouldn't have said what she was about to. "I have these… dreams," she told him in a shaky voice, wiping under her eyes in an attempt to compose herself. "They're basically the same every night but with a few minor differences, not really important." Exhaling heavily through her mouth, she said softly, "They're always bloody and hot and I wake up screaming my lungs out," Heka nodded slowly and gestured for her to continue. "But now they're becoming more personal. I take the place of the person on the rack and there's this man standing above me, never the same body but he's always the same person. Heka, something terrible is about to happen – I can feel it." Her voice was desperate.
"There's so much weight on your shoulders," he mused, those hypnotic brown eyes of his lulling her into a mellow and cooperative state, not as disturbed by her revelation as she'd thought he'd be. Heka's hands cupped her face and he looked at her seriously. "I've heard of you, Ashleigh Waldenberg. Many gods have. Your situation is rare and nearly unheard of. You are a celebrity within the godly community, if you will." At her slightly dazed nod, he continued hopefully, "But I can take most of that weight off your shoulders if you'd allow me to."
She felt dizzy with relief as she processed what he'd just said. Take the weight off. So much pain. So much fear. Was this the end of her dreams? Could Heka really take her dreams away? Her heart leapt into her throat and she fumbled for a response. "H-how? Why?"
"You just have to make a deal with me. I'll take away your dreams, your memories of your dreams and all other possibly triggering events and in return…" he trailed off. His nose nudged hers, but strangely enough, she didn't feel scared anymore. It was like a weird blanket of hazy security and trust had settled over her and she found herself nodding along, her eyes boring into his and her breathing hitched. "You'll give me a claim on your soul. All you have to do is call me and I'll come." Heka finished, his breath tickling her cheek and he was so close that she could see her parted lips reflected in his eyes. Something about the way he sold it to her made her feel safe and warm, protected and sheltered. Ashleigh trusted this guy and had no idea who he was. On any other day, she would have jerked back and snapped out a curt: fuck, no! But something felt different. "You just have to say… yes." he breathed in an oddly elusive tone and his voice was barely more than a whisper as he leant in even closer.
There was a tense pause, Heka's face only an inch away from hers. "Well then, I guess I'm saying yes…" the word was drawn out of her, although part of her mind was screaming at her that this was a bad idea, a stupid idea – but she couldn't help it.
His fingers were gently brushing the sides of her face, his eyes tracing the facets of her glossy red lips. Her heart was hammering, stomach turning and she swallowed the lump in her throat as he moved closer and closer. Heka's hand was still on her face, looking unsure of what to do now, gauging her reaction to his proximity. His darkening eyes kept flickering from her mouth to her eyes. When she didn't move away, only let her eyes fall closed, he leant in close and kissed her softly, questioningly. She had no idea why she did it but something compelled her to twine her arms around his neck and pull him closer, drunk off the feeling of his skin brushing hers and his soft mouth moving against hers. She was kissing him back, matching his movements, because it felt right, like she was supposed to do it. The way he was kissing her made her feel like she'd do anything he asked her to, anything at all. He pulled back, eyes questioning. She shook her head abruptly to try and clear her head of the fogginess, but something drove her to grab the collar of his shirt and yank him forwards, kissing him with all she had, her hands buried in his hair because she craved the feelings he was giving her. She felt wanted, needed, valued – everything she'd been craving since she was a kid and this god was somehow giving it to her with one simple touch. Some small part of her was screaming that this was wrong, he didn't smell right, his eyes were the wrong color, he was too tall, but his kiss did something else to her. Only later did she wonder if what he did to her was a good thing, but right now she didn't care.
It was too late for that, anyways.
;;;
Gabriel was sitting opposite Kali, staring down at the bottom of his glass to avoid looking at the accusing expression on the goddess' face. She was staring at him with a pissed off expression, one leg folded over the other and she was swirling her martini impatiently. They'd been sitting in mildly uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, Kali looking more annoyed by the second. He'd seen Ashleigh mouth fuck off at the goddess and was torn between rolling his eyes because pissing off Kali when you were human wasn't a good idea, and clapping slowly because pissing off Kali when you were human also took balls.
She sighed loudly, her red nails tapping a quick beat against the bar table. "I still don't understand what you're doing with that human," Kali scoffed, trying her best to look blasé, but Gabriel could see what was really going on. Kali was jealous of Ashleigh. A goddess was jealous of a human. In any other situation it would have been funny, but now it was just irritating. This had been going on for far too long and he needed to end it, mostly to keep himself sane.
Gabriel rolled his eyes and dragged his hand across his mouth, exhaling heavily. "I still don't understand why it's such a big deal to you," he mocked, sitting back in his chair with a small smirk on his face. He shrugged nonchalantly. "Ashleigh's my friend." It felt like she was more than his friend, but he chose not to voice that.
That sentence seemed to set Kali off, she set her glass down with an abrupt clatter. Angered and slightly hurt, Kali's voice raised higher, "Loki, she's human!" she protested, snapping at him in irritation. As soon as she saw that her words weren't convincing him of anything, she gritted her teeth, her jaw working angrily. "She's taking advantage of you and your blind stupidity," she said deprecatingly and her voice was less than a whisper. She refused to meet his eyes, circling the rim of her glass with one of her fingers.
"Wow," Gabriel scoffed at the 'compliment'. He could feel himself beginning to get riled up by how pig-headed she was being, and he gritted out, trying to keep himself calm, "Thanks, Kali."
"I…" she began, trying to defend herself but dropped the act as soon as she realized she had nothing to say. Her brown eyes were large and pleading as she confessed, "Look, I miss you, okay? I-I don't trust this Ashleigh girl. I want you back," she said in her husky voice, leaning forwards.
Gabriel leant back in his chair. His eyebrows were raised as he began to point out all the flaws in her argument, starting with: "You miss me? I doubt that, and also, you don't have to trust her!" He argued back. He didn't understand why it was any of Kali's business who he spent time with. Still loving him was one thing, but continually feeling like it was her business to run his life was a different thing. "I trust her," he said forcefully, "and that's enough for me."
Kali said nothing for a few minutes, just gazing at him with an inscrutable expression on her face. "It's more than that," she said after a pause, a slow and harsh smile pulled at her dark lips as she shook her head, seemingly pleased with the result. "You poor, poor fool."
He certainly wasn't expecting that. "W-what do you mean?" Confusion began to rise, making his stomach clench and he suddenly felt on edge. Why was he a poor fool? What joke wasn't he in on? The trickster, not being let in on a joke. Sounds like a set up to a bad joke. He jerked back to Kali, eyes questioning.
"Look behind you." His eyes followed to where she was pointing and he felt abruptly sick. He could see Ashleigh's blonde head of hair and as he looked closer, he saw a dark haired man sitting close to her, his hands on her face, stroking his thumbs across his cheekbones. She wasn't pushing him away, she was looking at him with a sort of devotion in her eyes that he'd never seen on anyone, except for… holy shit, what the hell was happening? What was this mystery god doing? He felt a righteous anger bubble up inside him, and ready to go and punch whoever it was in the face, Gabriel stood up. But then the god pulled back, his hands dropping away from Ashleigh's face and she blinked, shaking her head before grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him into another kiss, more desperate and passionate than before. Shock struck him like lightning and a horrible feeling of having been betrayed seeped through him.
"She doesn't feel the same way you do." Kali murmured from behind him, her voice soft and taunting and her hands came up to rest on his shoulders as he blinked at the scene before him, feeling like someone had just punched him in the gut. He abruptly looked away and made to make his way back through the crowd, just to get out of this damn place. Shaking with something that felt like jealousy, he tried to move away from the crowd. Kali slid in front of him with her best apologetic face on, having realized that he wasn't in the mood for playing her mind games anymore.
She placed her hands on his chest and tried to steer him back to his seat, but Gabriel grabbed her hands and removed them from his chest. "Don't," he said, voice shaking more than he would have liked.
"Why?" Kali snapped, suddenly angered. The Hindu goddess had never take rejection terribly well, so why had he expected that now would be any different? "Is it because you still want her?"
Pissed beyond belief, Gabriel took a slow step towards her. "Don't ever presume to know what I want." He hadn't meant to snap at Kali, but frankly, he had no idea why he was feeling this attached to a human. It wasn't that he didn't like humanity… he just didn't particularly feel an abundance of love for them either. But that blonde girl sitting outside in the garden was something else entirely and until he sorted out exactly what the hell was going on between the two of them, that topic was going to be filed under 'never bring up again'. His voice had finally stopped shaking and he glowered at the smirking goddess.
"Maybe I don't know what you want," Kali flipped her dark hair over her shoulder and glanced at him coyly from under her fringe of black lashes. "But I know what you need, and it's not some semi-civilized howler monkey in a slutty dress." The way she said that made it sound like she was the one he needed and abruptly he was thrust back to memories of them, together and happy. Her eyes were dark, nearly black in the dim lighting and something about her, her very presence had him paralyzed. His breath caught as her fingers danced across his shoulders and she smirked like she knew exactly what she was doing.
Suddenly a familiar voice cut in, "Yeah, and what he needs is certainly not a jealous bitch like you. Back the hell off, Kali." Aphrodite stepped between the two of them, hands placed on her hips and her eyebrows raised. Her eyes were glittering with irritation and she looked like she wanted nothing more than to dropkick Kali off a cliff. Gabriel watched, silently groaning as Kali shifted immediately into the offensive.
"Oh, look," she said condescendingly, an unpleasant smirk quirking her lips. "It's Aphrodite. How cute."
Aphrodite looked like she was about to blow her top and Gabriel put a hand on her shoulder, hissing lowly, "Look, as frigging hilarious as it'd be to watch you deck her, we have bigger problems." She shook his hand off her shoulder, blinded by the need to defend herself. There wasn't much use trying to stop her because Aphrodite was a determined son of a bitch and he'd be damned if he didn't let her fight her own battles. It was like miniature explosions were going off in her rapidly narrowing eyes.
"Do you ever shut up?" Aphrodite asked mock-politely, tilting her head to the side as her red lips curled back in a dangerous smirk. She stalked forwards, heels clacking and stopped right in front of the Hindu goddess, who only looked at her coldly with dark eyes.
Gabriel decided it was probably a good idea to back the fuck up before shit got really bad, so he took a step back but still remained flanking Aphrodite. Luckily, Kali's attention wasn't laser focused on him, so he found the opportunity to try and look for the familiar blonde head of hair. She was sitting by herself on the stone bench, out in the middle of Dionysus' garden, her hands slipped under her thighs and she was staring at the grass like it held the solutions to all the world's problems.
A particularly cruel jab from Kali drew his attention back to the two angry goddesses. "I'll try being quieter when you try respecting yourself for once." Aphrodite tilted her chin, and Gabriel could tell that she was daring Kali to finish her sentence. Her fingers were twitching at her sides, her brows furrowed and her shoulders tense. One of Kali's eyebrows shot up as she laughed, disbelieving and mocking. "Please, Aphrodite, we all know you'd fuck anything that moved." Her acrid emotions shot through her tone, she was sour and upset.
Aphrodite looked like she'd been slapped, she smiled wanly to herself for a minute and Gabriel thanked his absent and shitty father that she wasn't going to respond. But then she hauled ass and punched Kali straight in the face, her fist clenched so tightly that the skin around her knuckles went white. "Don't ever talk about me like that again. I mean, at least I do get some. You, on the other hand, are a bitter old hag." Aphrodite spat, the tears prickling in her eyes uncharacteristic of the peppy, bubbly goddess.
Gabriel swiftly stepped between the two, his hands outstretched, one on Aphrodite's shoulder and the other one just above Kali's heart, forcibly separating them. Kali's nose was starting to swell up and she wiped a red trickle of blood off her mouth, glaring daggers at the other goddess. Next to her, Kali's half-empty martini glass exploded into little glittering shards, and the remnants of her drink dripped down the mahogany bar bench. Her hands, clenched into fists by her side, were quivering with anger, but her face only showed a dangerous calm. Sensing that something big was about to go down, he grabbed Aphrodite by the shoulder and began to pull her backwards and away from Kali. "C'mon, Aph," he muttered lowly into her ear. "Let's go."
But then Kali flung her hand out and Aphrodite was ripped from his grasp. Her body jerked backwards and she hit the side of the bar with a loud bang, whimpering in pain as something in her back cracked. This had gone on long enough, he had to stop it. Determined and not about to back down, he touched the side of Kali's shoulder and looked at her firmly. The Hindu goddess flinched and shook his hand off her, but he stayed standing near her. "Kali, back off. I mean it. I'm going to take Aphrodite and leave, okay?"
Kali looked at him for a long minute with an indescribable look in her eyes. "Fine," she spat angrily, her voice wobbling a little bit and Gabriel swore he saw tears in her eyes – Kali couldn't stand rejection. Sympathy welled up inside him against his will and he started towards her, and tried to say something to lessen the blow. Kali shoved him away, looking enraged, but he could see the hurt that brewed under the surface. "Go," she snapped and her voice wobbled again, threatening to betray the true emotions bubbling under her surface. Not knowing what else to do, he watched as she sat back up on her stool at the bar, snapped her fingers to clean up the mess and asked the bartender curtly for another martini.
He felt a hand on his arm, pulling him away from the silently bitter Hindu goddess at the bar and blindly, he let the owner of the hand pull him through the crowd. It was kind of funny how quickly everything had turned sour. It wasn't even like he'd gotten the information he'd set out to get. Nobody here was sober enough to understand what he was saying. Gabriel pushed his way through the crowds of gods and goddesses, probably getting a shit ton of dirty looks, but he didn't care. He felt guilty for hurting Kali, remembering what they'd had not so long ago, but he felt like crap about Ashleigh making out with that random guy. He didn't even know why he cared so much. She was human. He was an archangel. Well, was. Not anymore. Now, he was Loki, the trickster god with little conscience and a penchant for mischief. What was it about her that kept him near? How was she making him feel like this? One thing was for sure, until he knew exactly what was going on between the two of them, he wasn't about to give her the wrong idea. Push her away, isolate her. The less prideful part of him was rolling its eyes and asking him why he was so mad. She could do whatever she wanted with whoever she wanted. It didn't concern him.
So why was she making him feel like this?
;;;
Heka had just left and Ashleigh was sitting alone on the cold stone bench in her short dress, her hands tucked under her thighs and questions tearing through her mind, the loudest one being: what did I just do? Hazy memories of a kiss, big dark eyes and impossible promises flitted through her thoughts and her head ached in response. It felt as if as soon the god had left, a fog had been lifted from her mind and she could finally think clearly. The cool wind cut through her thin, skin tight dress and she watched, mildly interested as goose bumps prickled her bare arms.
She really should have brought a jacket. Dammit.
Heka's kind, understanding words still reverberated through her skull and she kind of wanted to scream out of absolute frustration. What the fuck had she just done? With an irritated growl, Ashleigh plunged her hands through her mess of blonde hair. Fuck. She remembered him kissing her softly, sweetly and then… she remembered grabbing him and pulling him back for another kiss, her mouth working against his desperately, craving more of the aura that seemed to radiate off of the god. She could still feel the emotions he'd sent sparking through her mind: the acceptance, the understanding, the safety. Everything she wanted to feel, but had been denied once her dreams had started.
Well, that wasn't entirely true, a snide little voice in the back of her head reminded her. Loki had helped her when she was about to be eaten, he'd stayed with her when she was screaming her lungs out, he'd been there for her. And she liked him a lot more than she really should. What if he'd seen that? Maybe… Ashleigh internally cringed as she wondered whether he'd seen. He probably had. Shame welled inside her, and she had no idea why. She could make out with whoever she wanted, Loki be damned. So why did she feel like this? Because you liiiike him, the little voice crooned softly, drawing out the i. You like him way more than he'll ever like you.
She dropped her head into her hands and groaned again, louder this time and her fingers clenched in her hair. Yes, it was true. She may or may not have a thing for Loki, Norse trickster. It wasn't like she could even admit it to herself. The pathetic human, falling for the trickster. It sounded like a shitty joke. Ashleigh had no idea what she felt for Loki, but she knew she wasn't far off being in love with him. The way he looked at her, the way he touched her, the way he spoke to her, the way his eyes had widened when he saw her in her dress… something in her chest twisted and she mumbled drunkenly, "Shit." She'd give anything to have him look at her like that with those honey-brown eyes again. Anything, and at the same time, she'd give anything not to feel this conflicted. Sometimes, she kind of hated love. Ashleigh hadn't really been one to date a lot. She was always too awkward, too cynical, too over the top whenever someone she like paid attention to her. She'd never been able to get it quite right. Her limited number of boyfriends (Theo in second grade, Maxim in ninth, George in college and Adam a couple years ago) showed that she really didn't like complicated, romantic relationships a whole lot. But with Loki, it was pure and simple. At least it had been.
But it was too late for regret. She'd already fucked up whatever they had by making out with the beautiful Egyptian god with the big brown eyes. Ashleigh hadn't even known why she'd done it, she'd just felt so compelled to, like she had to say yes. Maybe it was desperation, maybe it was something far more sinister. She didn't care at this point. What had been done had been done and she had to accept the consequences of her actions.
A hand on the bare skin of her shoulder made her jump in surprise. She jerked around to see who it was. Aph rubbed her red-rimmed eyes, huffed loudly and stuck her hand out to pull Ashleigh up. "C'mon," she said and she sounded like she was determined not to cry, her voice cracking a little in the middle but she made an impressive effort to keep her composure.
Ashleigh hurriedly scrambled to her feet, forgetting about her issues and without even thinking about it, pulled Aphrodite into a tight hug. The goddess didn't hesitate to hug her back, her chin sticking into the flesh of Ashleigh's shoulder and her thin arms twined around Ashleigh's neck. "You… okay?" Ashleigh asked carefully.
Aphrodite mumbled something intelligible into her shoulder. It sounded suspiciously like: "I fucking hate her."
"Who? What's wrong?" She pulled back from the hug and held the goddess at arm's length, looking at her curiously. Aphrodite's mascara was running, her face blotchy and her lower lip quivered as she tried to remain calm. She couldn't help but wonder how bad it had been because upsetting Aphrodite to that degree didn't seem possible.
"Kali." Aph's voice came out in a muffled sob, but she sounded angry, not sad. "Fucking bitch."
Instantly, Ashleigh was set on edge. Kali? Oh, crap. This couldn't be good. She remembered the last (and only, thank God) time she'd actually had a conversation with the goddess. It had consisted of something that sounded like: get your hands off my man before I fuck you up. And that was putting it lightly. She glanced back towards the packed house, filled with gyrating gods and goddesses, the beat pounding so loudly that she could feel it standing two hundred feet away. It felt like Kali was everywhere, always determined to increase the rift between her and Loki. She shook her head, no. She was just being paranoid about it. But, she remembered the ice cream store conversation and quickly changed her mind.
"Hey, uh, where's Loki?" Ashleigh craned her neck to look past Aphrodite, searching for the god. She might as well get the awkward confrontation over and done with.
"I don't know, he's kinda pissed off." Aph shrugged, wiping at her eyes furiously. "He's probably… fuck, I don't know, he's inside somewhere." She grumbled and her words came out in one long, semi-unintelligible string of noise, jerking her thumb back over at the house. "We've gotta go find him, we're going back to your place, yeah?" The redhead began to saunter off, her hips swaying to the beat coming from inside and her tall heels making her legs look miles long.
Ashleigh kicked her shoes off, her giddy mood completely drained away and followed Aphrodite like a lost puppy, her fingers hooked in her shoes. The grass was cold and wet against her feet as she plodded along. Loki's silhouette cut a lonesome figure standing in front of the double doors, his hands jammed in his pockets and his breath coming out in a white stream. He didn't look happy, she noted and kept her head down. Her hair fell across her face in a blonde curtain as she prayed to whoever was listening, please don't let him look at me, god, that would be awkward. As she neared him, her bare feet smacking against the marble stairs, he cast her a cursory glance. Loki's normally molten golden eyes had frozen over as he took in her bedraggled form, her swollen lips and messy hair. Not liking the scrutiny, Ashleigh flashed a smile which wasn't returned. Aph grabbed Ashleigh's hand and a handful of Loki's jacket and suddenly – they were gone.
;;;
As soon as she landed, Ashleigh made a mental note: don't ever teleport while drunk. It was the trippiest shit ever. Colors had passed her by at millions of miles per hour and her neck hurt from craning it to try and see them all. She'd landed beside her bed, which had been a bonus because as soon as her feet hit solid ground, she'd toppled over face first into the nearest object. Which, thank God, had been her comforter.
Groaning loudly and scrubbing at her eyes, she peeled herself off her bed, expecting to see Loki and Aphrodite standing with crossed arms, looking completely unimpressed. But all she saw was blackness. Her open shutters cast odd looking shadows on the ground and she slowly sunk down onto the bed, feeling smaller than ever. Loki had become a permanent fixture in her apartment during the month he'd stayed with her. She missed his presence beside her and looking around the dimly lit apartment, she curled into a small, shivering ball. It felt odd to be here by herself now.
After a couple of minutes, her dress started to get ridiculously uncomfortable. Standing up made her head throb and she stretched languidly, reaching behind her to get the zipper and shimmy out of the dress, which she tossed to the side of her room. She reached for her pajamas, methodically getting ready to fall into (hopefully) a dreamless sleep. She really didn't need any fucking nightmares right now. Pulling her faded college shirt over her head, she cast a long look at her bed. Dammit. Could she go without sleep? Probably not, and besides, Loki thought that the stuff she saw might be important. But never the less, she made herself coffee (and had to keep herself from pouring two, cringing over how pathetic that sounded) and sat at her kitchen table with the mug clutched in both hands and the flickering lamp on for what felt like forever.
Ashleigh watched the steam rise from the mug with a blank fascination. She hated the feeling of having her apartment be empty. It felt so dark, so cold, hell, she even missed Loki's constant jokes. They were, of course, incredibly raunchy but they were dumb and funny. His little comments would usually make her laugh and punch him in the arm, because if she had to hear another: two guys walk into a bar… joke, she would probably have flipped shit. She chuckled softly and raised the mug to her lips, taking a long drink. The liquid burned down her throat but it was better than being asleep.
Now that she was by herself, she had time to think and mull things over. Loki'd only been gone for… she checked her watch to find that it was about four in the morning. It had only been a couple of hours since he'd dropped her off and she already missed him. Maybe it was pathetic how dependent she was on him, but he'd come through and swept her off her feet with a mixture of dumb jokes and silly smiles. Ashleigh had lived by herself for a while now, soldiered through the nightmares by herself but once she'd had that small taste of what life next to him would have been like… damn. She was falling for the trickster and she had no idea how to catch herself.
Dammit.
;;;
Light. Warmth. A terrible taste in her mouth. Sighing loudly, Ashleigh peeled herself off the couch and sat up, rubbing at her eyes blearily.
Wait.
She was on the couch? What? She could have sworn she fell asleep on the kitchen table. And then as her eyes opened, she nearly had a heart attack. Her apartment was a mess. Books had been shredded, paintings of hers torn off the walls, holes in the plaster, red liquid staining her floorboards. The fan was missing a couple of blades, stuffing was torn out of the pillows and she was sitting in the middle of her couch which looked like it had been ripped to shreds. Who – how? Panic and disbelief rose in her throat as she stood up shakily, trying to make sense of the situation in front of her.
And that was when she saw them. The archaic, old symbols she'd seen flashing in her mind had been painted hastily in red paint on her walls, her furniture. And they were huge. The symbol she'd drawn that day she'd talked to Jackson, the five pointed star and other symbols inside the circle was painted messily on the dining table. She didn't even notice the sob that escaped her throat. What the hell had happened? In a blind daze, she wandered through the halls, her mind barely registering the other symbols slapped onto her walls and locked herself in the bathroom.
She slowly slid down the door and sat with her hands under her knees, not able to comprehend what she was seeing. Hot, fearful tears began to drip down her cheeks and she hiccupped, her throat scratchy and raw from screaming. Ashleigh brought her hands up to wipe her face, only to stop short. Her hands were covered in partially-dried red paint, her palms and her fingers stained a rich crimson. Horrified, she scrambled backwards, the tears flowing faster. She did this. She ripped apart her home and painted all those freaky symbols everywhere. A little whimper escaped her mouth and pain shot through her throat, her hands curling into fists as she sobbed again. What the fuck was happening to her?! What had she done to deserve this?! Her life was in ruins, her relationships were a mess, she couldn't even go to sleep without screaming her lungs out. She didn't even know where to begin fixing herself.
Suddenly, pain flashed through her head and she screamed again, grabbing her head with her paint-stained hands. Memories, memories that weren't hers, flitted through her mind. A door set in the middle of five churches set out in a five pointed star, each churched joined together by a set of iron railroads. A man, who when he opened his eyes, smiled sinisterly as he blinked his yellow eyes at her. Her head throbbed again and she let out another muffled sob as the memories overwhelmed her. The green eyed man that she recognized from her dreams talking to a red eyed woman, his voice wavering as he tried to hold it together. A bullet speeding in slow motion to the yellow eyed man's head. The door to unimaginable horrors flung wide open, black smoke pouring out.
And then she was ripped back to the present, her body thumping back against the wall. Ashleigh stared blankly ahead, her eyes surely boring a hole into the white tiles of her shower. What the hell was that? Did it have something to do with the symbols? She had no idea what was happening to her anymore and the thought of giving up occurred to her. Maybe she should just give up. The dreams were never going to go away. She was a prisoner in her own mind, held captive by her own emotions and thoughts. It took a lot of strength that she didn't have to push herself up off the wall and stand up. She turned to face the mirror and assessed the damage. Her green eyes were hollow and sunken, her blonde hair limp and dark, her skin pallid and blotchy. But worst of all were the red paint streaks running down the mirror, the letters all coming together to form a chilling phrase.
The Devil's Gate has been opened. The war has begun.
Her breath caught in her throat – she recognized her handwriting, the paint on her hands confirmed that she'd written it – and she turned away, unable to bear looking at the destruction she'd caused. More tears streaked down her face and she hiccupped pathetically, wiping her eyes. She couldn't go on like this, she couldn't take this anymore because she wasn't strong enough. One night alone without Loki and she fell apart? Yeah, she wasn't strong enough. Self-loathing flooded through her and she shoved the door open, picking her way through the wreckage when a thought occurred to her.
Heka's offer rang clear in her mind. I can take the dreams away. A claim on your soul. A claim on her soul? The thought didn't cause as much panic as she thought it would have and her mind was filled with warmth and… need when it came to Heka. She remembered the feelings his touch had given her, the blanket of security and acceptance. Something still felt off about it, screamed the small part of her mind who was dead set on Loki. But the rest of her was exhilarated by the idea, Heka could take the dreams away. He could take them away.
A little disbelieving laugh escaped her mouth. Maybe she could be free of the fear and terror that had weighed her down for so long. Her voice was raw and scratchy when she asked, "Heka?"
When nothing happened, she tried again. "I-I think I'm ready to take you up on your offer." Nothing. Her heart sunk to the bottom of her chest and reality began to set in. This was her life now. She just had to deal with it.
"I wish you hadn't fallen for that," Heka's familiar voice sounded from behind her and she whipped around. He was dressed in all black, his hands shoved in the pockets of his black leather jacket as he lounged against the side of her wall. HIs eyes were as brown as she remembered and he was staring at her, a little smirk gracing his mouth. What was he talking about? She looked away and began to slowly move backwards, every nerve in her body screaming at her to get away from him, now!
Unease settled through her and she backed off, suddenly wary. "Fallen for what?" Ashleigh asked and she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know the answer.
Heka said nothing in response, his eyes showing the tiniest hint of regret but he snapped his fingers sharply, obviously expecting something to happen. All of a sudden unfamiliar hands grabbed her and pinned her arms behind her back, pulling her into a solid chest. Complete and utter panic rose through her and she struggled against the hold of whoever was behind her, eyes wild and helpless. "What the fuck are you doing, Heka?!" she spat, trying to wrench her arms from the mystery guy's grip, acting a hell of a lot lot braver than she felt.
Heka shrugged. "Making good on our bargain. You did say yes. " he pointed out. And then something heavy slammed into the side of her head, she slumped to her knees and everything faded into blackness.
Author's Note: Holy shit, you guys. I never meant to leave you hanging for over a month - I was away on holidays for a couple of weeks and I've been starting my exam period for the end of the year. I promise to try and update more often. I swear on the river Styx, for all of you Percy Jackson fans! Also, just to the Percy Jackson fans, what did you guys think of the Blood of Olympus? I just... Nico di Angelo... I can't anymore.
I'd just like to thank CheleOnRage712 for all of her help regarding this chapter and future chapters to come. She's completely awesome and I'm eternally grateful!
So... what do you guys think of this chapter? What about Heka? What's he doing to Ashleigh? And now Gabriel's jealous, Kali's mad, Aphrodite's fuming and Ashleigh just got kidnapped. I think Heka and Ashleigh's conversation was my favourite part to write, although he's a dirtbag because he tricked her into agreeing. I'm really excited for the next chapter, there's a pretty big plot twist there which I'm really excited for you all to read.
Thoughts on the Aphrodite/Kali fight? I mean, Kali had it coming, but Aphrodite said some preeeetttyyyy nasty things too. Also, I think jealous!Gabriel is my favourite version to write, haha.
What do you guys think about season 10 so far? I wasn't so much of a fan of the premiere, but J2 say this season's gonna be good, so hopefully they're right! I mean, there's so much they can do with demon!Dean. There's a lot of material to play with there. I kind of feel bad for Cole's family though, he's kind of turning into John Winchester, if you think about it.
Anyways, tell me what you liked/didn't like/want to see in future chapters! I love hearing what you guys think. I love feedback more than I love Sam Winchester, which is a lot :3
Review?