The Fine Line of Heaven and Hell

A/N: I’m considering either removing or changing the last chapter. I really don’t like it at all. -_- Thinking this, I decided to take a break from it and work on an alternative story, so that I could keep my mind off it for a little while. It seems, though, that every time I try to do this, all I can seem to think about is this story. It’s haunting me. To be honest, it is fairly creepy, but I think I’m used to it. I do, however, have a bunch of ideas for other stories just randomly pop in my head. What I do in these situations is type out a good summary of the idea and save it to my documents. Some of them already have titles, others don’t.

I’ve heard that authors often have trouble with naming their stories, but I’ve never had a problem coming up with a name for one. O.o I usually have a decent name for a story by the time I finish the first chapter or so. Do authors really have problems naming their works?

On the other hand, I’d like to thank Luinil for all her compliments and ratings on my story. ^.^ I usually just thank you personally, but I felt somewhat bad for not notifying you when I do everyone else. So thanks.


Chapter 14-Consequences of Friendship
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It was nearly closing time and neither Brethmel nor Cordon had returned. Shuey was becoming slightly worried about the lithe demon, but supposed he knew what he was doing. Just as she finished mixing Deamon another Atomos, Jerrick’s head peered through the doorway. The chocolate-skinned demon winked at her with a grin. “Mind if I take over your bar for a bit, Angel?”

The question confused her at first, but after a moment she realized it was some type of hint. Plum wings twitched slightly at her quizzical gaze before the man laughed at her. “I’m sure your employer would like a word with you,” he explained, standing as he slid his drink back across the bar. “You’ll just owe me a favor later.” After she frowned for an unknown period of time, that baritone laugh sounded once again. “I’m kidding, get your dense ass over there and talk to your boy.”

Her boy? With a shrug, Shuey figured that the demon was probably right, so she strode over and tilted her head slightly. “Yes?” The pristine man looked at her for a moment before grasping her armed wrist and tugging her away. He really had no right to touch her, and it pissed her off that he was anyway, but the strange look on his face kept her quiet.

“Leon came in to tell me you went to work and saw the General there. They don’t really get along as it is, but Brethmel was upset because I interrupted him and put a hole through the office wall. He punched the General…….. Hard.” Why was he telling her; like she could do something. Instead of saying anything, she let herself be drug to his office “He’s going to kill him if he doesn’t get straight answers from you.” He stopped just before the small room in front of his office doors.

“I really shouldn’t ask you this…. But I can’t lose Leon. Please do what you can,” he pleaded, grey eyes slate-colored in their emotion. Flitters of emotions she couldn’t fathom to understand swamped his features as he gazed at her helplessly, his blackened hair even seeming to lose it’s attractive shine. His hand gripped her wrist tightly, as if clinging to her would save his best friend. In all reality, she had no reason to risk her life like that. It wouldn’t benefit her in any way that would outweigh her staying alive.

Yet as she watched Jerrick’s panicked face, she felt herself nodding. Leon reminded her of herself at times, while Jerrick seemed to worm his way under her skin in a way that she just couldn’t get away from him. The pain in those freaky eyes almost made her hurt, too. It was really annoying. So, somehow she found herself wrenching her wrist away from a pale hand and striding to the office, the doors flying open before she could touch them.

Dual eyes widened marginally when she saw Leon face-down on the desk, his cherry hair darker than usual in the places where blood had spattered. Long, erratic scars littered his back, his wings sprung from his shoulder blades and dripping with the angel’s blood. His shirt lay tattered in the floor, his furious blue eyes glaring at it angrily. Even at this point, Leon remained more pissed off than frightened. “What the fuck are you doing here, Dumbass?”

The question nearly caught her off-guard, but a husky laugh cut the conversation short. Brethmel leaned against the wall beside the desk, his claws dripping with her teacher’s blood onto their owner’s arms. His hair had been pushed away from his face, those golden eyes in view, steadily looking her way with a glimmer of amusement. “Look, she does have feelings,” he said idly, smirking when she scowled at him. Of course she had feelings.

“What do you want?” Shuey asked bluntly, not wanting to draw this out longer than she had to. Deamon was taking over for her at the bar, and she’d probably have pay him from her own salary for it. She stepped to the side quickly as Jerrick found his way inside, helping his friend from the desk, papers scattering about as their paperweight was removed. A slow smirk found its way on the General’s face once the pair of friends were standing side-by-side, both frowning worriedly.

“I’m sorry, Shuey,” Jerrick began before Leon hit him in the head. Without another word, the angel walked towards the door, only pausing to clap a hand to her shoulder before leaving. The demon remained behind, his brow crinkled slightly as he gazed at her. “I don’t want to leave you alone with him. He’s stronger than the two of us combined, you know.” Knowing this already, she sent him a look that told him so. A vague little smile wormed onto his face that confused her, but he left like a good little demon.

Once he was out the doors, they slammed behind her, making Shuey’s focus return to the other demon in the room completely. She was alone in this, as she was with all things. It was as though the gods were reminding her of a fact of life. “Who gave it to you?” was all the brute man said, the look in his eyes saying that he had no intention of repeating the statement. Golden orbs glanced at the dagger on her wrist in explanation of his question.

“……My mother,” she answered coolly, not knowing why he’d be so interested in a knife. After a few moments of calculation and considering, she came to the conclusion that the trinket might have once belonged to the man before her. How did she get herself in situations like this one? Those two men seemed to have a knack for getting her into trouble of all kinds. Zeke’s russet hair had fallen somewhat in his face, covering part of his eyes, but not all of them.

His golden eyes were assessing her carefully; picking her apart slowly and trying to put it all together. He seemed to analyze the answer she had given him, making her wonder if it was enough. By the frown on his face, she was guessing not. “Who is your mother?” he asked icily, holding a no-nonsense tone that pricked at Shuey like cactus thorns.

She assumed it would be best to be blatantly honest to this man, who could probably smell a lie from a mile away. “I don’t know her,” she responded hesitantly; unsure if her path was a correct one. The demon’s eyes seemed to slit like a cat’s, the already eerie look now edging on her nerves. This man was very strong, so she had to be incredibly careful if she wanted to come out of this office alive. Knowing this didn’t stop the twinge of doubt that reared its ugly head.

The bulky man before her pushed away from the wall, his heavy boots clunking loudly on the floor as he stepped closer. His abyssal wings widened, just opening around his shoulders to brush against his own skin in what looked like a display of affection. He stopped momentarily to brush russet hair away from his eyes once more, taking the last steps towards her after he did so. His clawed fingers gripped the front of her tank top, pulling her close until his heated breath fanned onto her face.

“…..Do you know how many daggers like that exist?” he asked lowly, the lengthy nails digging into the cloth of her shirt, forcing the fabric to separate around them. “One,” he answered for her, golden eyes narrowed as he lifted her from the ground. “Mine,” he said solidly, tearing at the hilt of the blade and slashing at her forearm in the process. As if an idea came across him once he saw her blood, his hand loosened its hold and her feet met the floor once more. Not having the chance to move, Zeke shoved her backwards and to the right, his hand on her shoulder, grinding it into the wall. It was really uncomfortable.

“Just so that you don’t ever forget who’s dagger you have laid claim to, I’ll make sure it’s branded into your skin. His other hand held the dagger, one long nail scraping across it and making a spark. As if it were a match, the knife lit up in flame, the demon’s eyes glowing a slightly red color amidst the gold.

Briefly, the flame died down and the blade glowed from the heat as he pressed it close to her face. Without a word, the glowing weapon slashed her from just before the jugular up her cheek, barely missing her nose and eye as he lifted it away. “That won’t heal the way it normally would. You’ll always have a scar on that pretty little face.” Shuey’s dagger clattered to the floor and she lurched forward as his hand moved away from her abruptly. Satisfied, the General stalked from the office, military shoes thunking along the floor as he walked.

Something dripped from her chin onto her grey shirt and looking down, the Halfling realized it was her own blood. More of her crimson life force oozed down from her neck, making her wonder if he actually had sliced her jugular. Deciding she would be spouting the liquid if he had, she stooped to pick up her closest friend. Looking at the glimmering blade, her own blood lining the blade shallowly. “Fuck, Shuey.”

Leon stood leaning on Jerrick in the doorway. His blue eyes moved from her to Jerrick before he moved away from him to lean on the door frame. As if the angel had told him to by moving, the demon strode forward, arms wrapping around her before she even registered the movement.

Lithe hands found their way into russet hair, Shuey’s eyes widening as he pulled her close to him. “I was so worried,” he murmured into her hair, not noticing that her form had gone rigid and that her blood smeared onto his flawless suit. Her arms were pressed between them, Dare gripped tightly in her hands as if it had the answers. Jerrick was too tall for her to see Leon. She had no way of finding out what to do in this situation. “Thank you, Shuey. Thank you,” the grey-eyed man whispered, barely heard by the woman trapped in his embrace.

She really didn’t want to stab him after what just happened, but being surrounded by him was making her feel a way that made her uncomfortable, so she wanted out. One hand pushed lightly at his chest while her other still held her weapon in a death-grip. As if realizing what he was doing, strong, but lithe arms dropped away from her instantly and he stepped back from her as if he’d been burned. “I’m sorry,” he quickly placated, eerie eyes swimming with even more emotions than before.

The man was usually much better at masking his feelings, which lead Shuey to believe that this was an incredibly straining situation. He’d been so worried for Leon that he’d pleaded with her to help save him. It made her wonder how close the two were. She understood that they were like brothers; did brothers fear so avidly for one another? Were the two lovers?

Leon’s scars were still healing, little red lines now compared to the gashes that previously adorned his torso. She was betting Brethmel was just amusing himself until she showed up. Did that make it her fault the angel had gotten so beaten up. “I’m lucky to be alive. The bastard didn’t kill me because of Jerrick’s position.” She didn’t understand what he meant about Jerrick, but she herself knew they were both lucky to be standing together after the man attacked them.

Jerrick still stood between her and the angel, so she could only see half of him now that the man had stepped back to give her room. Her dual eyes looked over Jerrick as well, noting that he hadn’t been touched at all. The demon’s eyes remained fixed on her face, so she tilted her head to the side. Her head swam as she did so, making her sway slightly before regaining her balance. Her hand flew up to the slash along her jaw immediately, wincing at the unfamiliar stinging sensation of touching an open wound.

Without asking permission, she was lifted from the ground, one of Jerrick’s arms curled under her knees as the other held her up from the back. Her hands went to her head as the room spun, her eyes becoming very heavy. “Don’t fall asleep yet. We have to wrap up your wound.” Her vision, though hazy, could see the demon looking worriedly over at Leon, who moved ahead of them to get what they needed, she guessed.

Frowning, she let her head drop anyway, barely acknowledging that it landed on the man’s shoulder. “Unn,” she uttered. How could she lose so much energy so fast? She hadn’t even done anything. Something pressed against her face, a rough hand encouraging her to take it in her own fingers. Unsure why, she grasped what seemed to be a cloth and held it to her face, vaguely reminding herself that she was bleeding.

“She’s lost a lot of blood. That’s not surprising for a head wound, but how did he get it to stay open?” Leon’s voice filtered lightly into her mind; it sounded further off, but she could still feel his hand against her own, forcing it to put more pressure on her jaw. Soft lips brushed across her brow and her hands moved on autopilot, dagger burying itself into the demon’s shoulder immediately after the contact.

“Damn you, that’s hot as hell!” he swore, grey eyes growing large after a moment. “He burnt the fucking dagger. That’s why it won’t heal on its own.” Lithe hands gripped her a bit harder as she felt Jerrick begin moving out of the office. Just how bad was it, she had to wonder, her mind growing hazy from anemia. Was it really as bad as they were making it out to be? Even Leon’s voice was slightly raised in alarm. As she decided that sleep was better than listening to these idiots panic, Jerrick held his lips to her ear, whispering “I’ll take care of you, I promise,” softly before she finally let go and darkness surrounded her vision.

“She fell asleep?!” Leon muttered exasperatedly as her hand became lax so that he had to keep the pressure on the wound himself. “We should fix her up in your room; there’s a lot of space there.” The raven-haired man simply nodded, his grey eyes fixed on the form in his arms. “Stop staring and move, Idiot.” At this, the demon seemed to jerk to life, moving forward at a decent pace and turning quickly to pass the staircase to his own personal quarters up the other set.

The redhead began to clamber up the stairs as well, until his blue eyes met Jerrick’s own. “The bar,” he said dully, Leon nodding at the hint and turning tail to take over the thing. Frowning, the demon continued his way up, glad he’d left the door unlocked when the night clerk had told him there was a commotion in the tavern area. He didn’t notice the blade still in his shoulder until he moved in an attempt to flip his light switch with his elbow, causing pain to shoot down his spine. “Fuck,” he murmured, moving quickly to set her onto his couch so that he could flip the damn switch. One hand yanked at Dare as the other lashed out at the mechanism, swiping it upwards into the on position.

The blade clattered to the floor as he moved back towards the Halfling, his heart beating too quickly for his comfort at the sight of the long, thin scar along her face. Just at the place her cheekbone was, the line vanished. The gash was deep, but thin enough to simply apply pressure to close some of it. Because of the burnt skin, it’d take his own healing capabilities to even force the skin to keep together. Long dark lashes brushed her pale cheeks, what color she had once had now completely exiled from her complexion.

Frowning, Jerrick picked her back up, transferring her onto a bed draped in rich green tones and sitting beside her. One careful hand steadied her jaw, tilting it enough for him to see as his other hand pressed the sides of the cut together. His face held the barest hint of red as he hovered over the scored skin flicking his tongue out quickly, running it across the slice and watching as it carefully melded together. Even unconscious, Shuey’s nose crinkled slightly and her brow furrowed, as if confused at his actions.

Smiling softly at the innocent act, he quickly moved his own face away from soft features and pout lips. It -wouldn’t bode well with her to have him that close, he knew. One pale hand pushed her near-auburn strands away from her face, taking in the angelic look completely before depositing himself in the nearby chair. It seemed he had a wait ahead of him.

At some point in time before he picked up a book and after he began thinking, Jerrick stumbled upon a terrifying thought: It seemed he cared even more for the girl than he was prepared to even fathom; he may even say he….Loved her?


A/N: Okie dokie. Really sorry about this one being so late. O.o A customer at work got me so sick I couldn’t even get out of bed to post. -_- This chapter has been done for the past three days, but since I don’t log onto the Internet on Saturdays and I was sick the past two days, even today, I hadn’t had the chance to post. They just keep coming later and later, don’t they? I find it irritating, but I’ve already got half the next chapter done (yay) so I should be very quick on posting it. At least, I really, really hope so, I’ll be going back to bed now. Cheers.