Exodus 20 by Freydis Moon

Author:Freydis Moon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: LGBTQIA+, PNR/fantasy, horror, romance, Latine, transgender, D/s power play, construction worker, angel, suspense
Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC
Published: 2022-01-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

AT MIDNIGHT, DIEGO lay awake, listening to the box fan spin in his bedroom. After standing in the basement, reciting prayers to himself, he’d grown too nervous to pay attention to his stomach and had gone to bed without dinner. He’d left the door unlocked, hoping Ariel might appear after dark. But hours had passed, and the church was still quiet. Completely unmoving, stifled by the desert heat. Diego turned onto his side and stared at the doorknob.

Something that can keep you safe.

The fine hair on his nape stood. He drummed his fingers on the pillow, watching the dark strip at the base of his door. He willed something to happen, but nothing moved, and no one approached. Stillness remained, flexing with every inhale and exhale. As he breathed, he considered his own humanness, his entire life, and wondered about potential, about recklessness, opportunity, and power. What could be more powerful than unstitching an oppressive system? What could be more reckless than sliding out of bed, and opening his bedroom door, and walking into the nave?

He pushed his soles into the newly laid laminate. Glanced around the tall, open space. Moonlight tilted off the image of Christ etched into a stained window and glowed on his thorny crown. Another box fan spun in the corner, circulating the dry air.

Get the job done, get paid, go home.

Something like fear radiated inside him. He closed his eyes and held his arm out, palm open, waiting for Ariel Azevedo to appear. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn’t, but Diego had to try. He couldn’t say no to the job—a scary, hard, dirty job—without knowing who and what he was walking away from. That cousin to fear, that ripe thrill and aching anxiety, knotted so tightly it hurt to breathe.

“Show me,” he said to no one, to Ariel, to whatever God might be listening. He squeezed his eyes shut. His outstretched arm trembled, the other clutched close to his chest. Please, he thought, prayed, demanded. Please, show me.

Something small and soft touched his palm. Landed there, as if it’d floated toward him from the ceiling. Diego opened his eyes and found a pearlescent feather, spotted rusty-beige at the root, seated in his hand. He dragged his thumb along the feather, watching it ripple and split. His heart skipped. For a moment, he forgot to be afraid, to be thrilled, to be anxious, until he realized his body was trapped in a shadow, until he heard lungs expand, until the silvery glow coming through the windows behind him defined the shape looming at his back.

“Don’t be afraid,” Ariel said. He sounded like himself and not. Like several versions of Ariel had spoken at once.

Diego froze. His pulse raced, but he kept his eyes wide, staring at the darkened hallway as movement echoed through the church. Feet against the floor. Disrupted air. A sound like machinery humming, an engine purring. His lips wobbled, gaze shifting upward to take in the magnitude of wings—fuck, wings—spreading outward from Ariel’s reshaped body.

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