Page 151 of Venom Sweeter than Honey
I snort, bending at the waist to retrieve the pile. “Am I supposed to make your bed, too?”
“It’s the least you could do considering you beheaded me and I let you live.”
I grumble something—I’m not even sure what—turning to make my way back to Violette’s living room.
The moment we stepped out of Gideon’s house, Violette immediately told Azrael our plan and began supplying logical reasoning for our road trip and why it was a good idea, as if she needed to hear it herself; needed to be reassured this wasn’t going to turn into a complete disaster.
“You never really know someone until you either travel together, commit a crime together, or experience trauma together.”
Lucky for us, we’re about to experience all three.
Azrael, to my surprise, seemed oddly excited by the idea. Even with me being there.
And she didn’t even prompt me to divulge the original inspiration for this misadventure... killing my father’s usurper.
Azrael follows me into the living room, tailed by his shadow. The three of us stop short of the loveseat that’s far too small for either of us. I drop the pile of sheets and pajamas onto the couch—quickly realizing there’s only one blanket hidden beneath the gratuitous number of throw pillows.
“Goddamn it.”
Azrael twists, angling the top half of his body so that he can trail the source of my scowl.
“Any chance you can make more blankets appear?”
He huffs a mirthless laugh. “Nope.”
“But you made that dress for Violette.”
“Ah. That would be his doing,” he gestures vaguely towards his looming shadow, “As I previously explained, when you relieved me of my head, my energetic body remained intact and took most of my magic with it.”
“But isn’t he you?”
“Yes... and no.”
Azrael sighs, angling himself towards his shadow.
“Would you be so kind?”
His shadow doesn’t move. Just stares, its gaze dancing slowly between the two of us.
Azrael gives it a displeased smile. “Splendid.”
“So with the dress…”
“Iwilledhim to do so, but it appears that the longer my energetic body remains out of my corporeal body, the moreseparate from me he becomes, and thus, less inclined to heed my desires.”
“... And what happens if he separates entirely?”
Azrael heaves a sigh, eyes squeezing shut as he brings his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose. “No fucking clue, but I’m sure everything will be fine.”
His words lack the conviction I don’t feel.
“Fine?”
“Fine. Not fine. Pain. No pain. I try my best not to worry about things beyond my control.”
Interesting choice of words considering he’s a god, but apparently even he has his limits.
I give a noncommittal grunt and resume spreading out the sheets and blanket. Although I’m not even sure whose bed I’m making: mine or his.
