Dead Moon Chapel

fifteen

ABEL DIDN'T RETURN TO NORMAL for a long time. The two of them were stuck on either side of the door until he wasn't glowing anymore and Jericho felt safe enough to check on him. After overcoming the initial shock of such a holy sight, she could withstand it easier. It just took some getting used to.

"I know you wanted me to take you home," Jericho said. They were in the living room, because that was the only place Abel's persistent wings could fit. Jericho was sitting across from him, no longer agitated by the mere sight of him. "Do you still want to go back?"

"I don't think I should." Abel gave an idle flap of his wings, a small gust of wind gently tousling a few strands of Jericho's hair. "I'm going to be in enough trouble as it is. I might as well make the most of it."

Jericho sprawled himself over his chair, hanging his head over the arm of it. "Good choice. If that's the case, once you can get those wings under control, I have another idea."

"What are you thinking?"

Jericho's eyes got big, reflecting his mischievous grin. It made Abel's stomach twist. How could he move on so easily from their new discovery? While Abel was still trying to wrap his head around the implications and how much it complicated things, Jericho was ready to continue tempting and corrupting him. He was still a demon, after all. It was foolish to assume he was only doing all this for Abel's sake.

"Robbery," said Jericho.

"'Robbery'?" Abel exclaimed, incredulous. "Do I look like I know how to steal things?"

"I'm sure you've stolen the hearts of many."

"Not the same thing."

"Eh. Still counts." Jericho examined his nails as he spoke. "This one will be easy. It's a factory run by some old church guy, can't be that hard to sneak in and take the cash."

Abel pinched the bridge of his nose. "It cannot possibly be as simple as you're making it sound."

Jericho caught his eyes with his own. "I'll show you. I promise it'll be easy once you get the hang of it, okay?"

"None of this is easy," he sighed. "I am going against everything I've ever been taught and it's only been two days. Not even that."

"Hey." Jericho sat up again. "I know it's hard. But you're not alone in this, okay? I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

Abel watched the ceiling for what must have been several minutes. The silence was growing stale around him, but he broke it with a whisper before it was too noticeable. "I don't understand."

"Understand what?"

Abel swallowed. Though his eyes did not leave the ceiling, he could see Jericho's face at the same time. This many eyes was a dizzying thing. "You're too sweet. I've never met a demon that didn't want to tear my throat out."

"I'm hardly sweet," Jericho scoffed. "I'm just... doing my job."

Of course, he was. This was always a job to him, a quota to meet. Abel wasn't special. So why did he feel like he was, for once in his life?

"Is it terrible of me that you doing your job feels better than Father Malachi's way of showing me love?"

"Probably. But that's the whole point, isn't it? You wanting to become terrible?"

"I don't want to become terrible," Abel said. "I already am, I think."

Jericho smiled. "You're not that bad. I'd like to see what you look like when you're all the way terrible, though." He stood up from his chair. "Focus on getting back to normal. We should head out in a few hours."