Dead Moon Chapel

thirteen

EVEN WHEN THE SPINNING SETTLED to a stop, Abel continued to cling to Jericho. His cheek was pressed against his chest, which he found to be rock solid behind a soft layer of fat. Though his eyes were squeezed shut, his head was reeling. Jericho released him prematurely, and he stumbled back with the loss of his anchor.

"Whoa, whoa, don't fall over, now," Jericho said, gripping his shoulders to keep him upright. Abel fell back into his arms.

Abel groaned. "What was that? I'm gonna be sick."

"Take a deep breath. It'll go away pretty quickly." One large hand ran over the plains of Abel's back. "I'm sorry, I thought you would be able to handle that better."

"It's fine." Abel inhaled, exhaled, slow and deep. The dizziness faded not long after. His eyes opened to the sight of the black markings peeking through Jericho's partially unbuttoned shirt, and he stepped away. He preferred to look at his face when he spoke, it was hard to focus otherwise. "Where are we?"

Jericho let him go once he knew he was stable. They were standing in the middle of an unfamiliar street, which buzzed with life despite the setting sun. The foul stench of evil hit Abel's nose, though it wasn't as potent as it was when he fought the demoness. This particular corner of the city was walled in by tall buildings; apartments, shops, and a church on one end of the street. It was tall and imposing, but judging by several holes smashed into the windows, no one here was scared of it.

"My beautiful home," Jericho muttered, an uncharacteristic lack of enthusiasm in his tone. "Come on. The place I'm taking you is nearby."

The demon took his hand, pulling him into a dimly lit alleyway. Abel stuck close to him, acutely aware of how he was dressed and who he was around. It wasn't going to go over well if anyone here figured out there was a priest in their midst-more so if he was caught by another priest, if Jericho's word was anything to go by.

"Hey, should I, uh... get a change of clothes?" Abel asked. "I don't know if being here in priest robes would be wise. Especially when I'm not here to hunt demons."

Jericho slung an arm around his shoulder. "Good point." He didn't say anything after that, and he didn't need to.

As Abel walked, the bottom of his robes twisted and pulled around his legs. The hem hugged his ankles, but instead of tripping him, his skirts split in two. His collar disappeared and the weight of his shirt eased, shifting from his heavy uniform to something more casual. A black sweater and pants formed from the robes he wore before in an unassuming guise.

Abel stopped in his tracks to look down at himself. "How did you do that?"

"Same way I can do this." When Jericho spoke, Abel spared him a glance, only to be met with a different face than the one he was used to. It was still Jericho's face, that was unmistakable, only he had a woman's features instead. When Abel dared to shift his eyes downward, Jericho's open shirt proved that it wasn't only his face that changed. A furious blush burned at the skin of Abel's cheeks.

Jericho laughed. "I didn't take you for that kind of guy, angel," she purred. Her voice was higher than it was before, yet still as boisterous as ever.

"Oh, shut up," Abel muttered and shoved her away. His blush subsided in favor of something more solemn, eyes cast down to the floor. "I'm more jealous than anything."

"Why's that? You wish you could be a pretty girl like me?" Jericho nudged him forward, and they resumed their walk.

They came upon the back end of an old building, illuminated by a flickering light that hung above a metal door. The walls were covered in graffiti and cracked paint, and the faint smell of demons lingered in the air.