Where Angels Fear to Tread

Chapter Two

“You met a girl?”

Those were the first words from my mother’s mouth the second I walked in the front door. She was standing in the kitchen, mixing something together for dinner, an amused expression on her face. I took a quick look around the dining room to find Alaina at the table, stirring a cup of hot chocolate, a sheepish little grin lighting her face. I sent her a glare and rolled my eyes, mouthing ‘Thanks a lot’

My mother was still patiently waiting for my explanation. I dropped my backpack into a chair and took a seat, sitting across from my sister. “There is a new girl at school. Her name is Enid Grey, she’s seventeen, a senior, and she moved here with her father.” I hoped that would end Mom’s curiosity.

It didn’t. “Is she pretty?”

“Sure. She’s not a super model, or anything. But she’s not ugly. She’s cute.”

“Rachel Ray kind of cute,” Alaina pitched in, popping a cheese puff into her mouth. Leave it to Alaina to relate everything to the Food Network.

Mom smiled slightly, turning back to me. “Alaina said you talked to her most of the day. I take it she’s friendly. Do you like her?”

It was times such as these that I regretted having a younger sister who was close to my age. My brother’s never stuck their noses in my business. For the most part, we kept to ourselves unless the others were in some kind of trouble. Alaina did not follow these rules. She took it as her duty to know all the latest gossip. Who was dating who, who French kissed who, where everyone was going. My family was like a giant gossip magazine to her.

I ignored Alaina’s grin and focused on Mom. “She is, I guess. Friendly, I mean. It was her first day, Mom.”

Mom nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. I knew that expression well. She was worried. “Mom,” I continued. “Stop. I know the rules, okay? I have never had this problem before. Why would I start now?”

Her answer was interrupted by a crash that came from one of the rooms, and the sharp wail that followed it. One of the twins appeared a moment later, carrying a tearful Ashe, who had once again fallen off of her dresser. The little one was defiantly an acrobat, climbing all over everything her little arms and legs could reach. In Ashe’s almost five years of life, she has accumulated more doctor bills on account of accidents than the rest of us put together. Thank God we didn’t own a chandelier.

Blake placed Ashe on the counter and wiped the tears from her eyes. A large black bruise was starting to form on her left knee, and her right hand was scratched and bloody. Alaina appeared a moment later armed with hydrogen peroxide, a cotton ball, and Hello Kitty band aids. With Ashe in the house, we were more than used to scratches and bumps.

I heard Mom sigh. “Ashe, how many times have we told you not to climb on the dresser?”

“I was flying, Mommy!”

“Maybe so, but you’re going to hurt yourself, Ashe.” Mom scolded as she doctored Ashe’s wounds, not even flinching when Ashe whimpered as she poured the hydrogen peroxide on the scrapes. I couldn’t blame her. After six children, Mom was rather used to seeing every scrape, bump, illness known to children. Between her four boys, we had given Alaina and Ashe a run for their money. There had been the year that Marcus caught mono in sixth grade from kissing the girl across the street. I had given the entire family chicken pox when I was six, Blake threw up on a lady at the supermarket, and Allen held the record with his appendix bursting.

With Hello Kitty in place on her knee, Blake set Ashe on the floor. She grinned up at our older brother, and her arms wrapped around his legs for a brief moment. “I’m hungry.”

Blake laughed. “Why is that not surprising? You’re always hungry.”

I smiled. Ashe had a special place for Blake. At only four, she was still one of the only members of our family (besides my mother) who could tell Blake and Allen apart instantly without one of them speaking. The twins were identical, right down to every last tiny freckle they had on their noses. The only difference in the two came from the fact that Allen’s voice was slightly deeper than Blake’s. Since birth, Ashe had been attached to Blake. When asked once how she could tell the difference, Ashe gave us a confused look and answered simply “Allen looks like Allen, and Blake looks like Blake!”

As Blake found Ashe food, I stole away to my bedroom before my mother could interrogate me any further. Unfortunately, Allen was sitting on my computer, and the moment I walked in the door, he grinned. “I heard you scored a lady friend.”

“I am beginning to think I should sew Alaina’s mouth shut. Who else has she told?”

“Lucas, I think.” I groaned. Of course my uncle would be in on this. Allen frowned. “Don’t look so down, Ross. You’re seventeen. She’s seventeen. You are supposed to be a horny, hormonal teenage boy who can’t wait until he scores his first girl. Trust me, we’ve all been there.”

Oh Lord, was my entire family insane?

I ignored Allen, who chuckled and turned back to his homework. I had no idea why there were making such a fuss about this girl. It wasn’t like I could date her even if I wanted to. I chuckled to myself humorlessly. There were pitfalls in being the ‘god of Love’. Most the fiction written was entirely inaccurate.

To most, Cupid remained a small, naked cherub with big eyes and a tiny bow and arrow. Wouldn’t most be surprised to find that he was actually almost six feet tall, fully clothed almost grown man and could only control emotions. Archery was not my friend.

The back door opened, and I heard the booming voice of my father, accompanied the soft voice of my uncle Lucas. I don’t think there were any brothers in history who were so different, yet were best friends. My father; tall, handsome, dark and loud., and my uncle; shorter, plain, pale and soft spoken. My father had trouble understanding Lucas at times, and I had witnessed more than one fight between the two. Yet, in my nineteen years, I had never known the two to not support one another.

I returned from my room, followed by Allen. Lucas grinned once he saw me. He opened his mouth and I cut him short. ’Say one word about the girl and I’ll rip your feathers out.’. Lucas closed his mouth and snorted softly in return, the grin never leaving his face. A confused look passed over my father’s face, before he shrugged and headed toward the kitchen.

Though my kind ran through his bloodline, my father never could quite understand the quirks of it. He tried, I gave him that. I am sure that it was hard, living with both a brother and a son who were eros. It was something that eventually Marcus would have to deal with, when Sandy accumulated enough children. At the rate they were going, being married less than a year, and expecting their first baby in the next three months, it would not be long before they had at least four sons.

Then I would be out of a job. The emotion reading, telepathy, and wings would never go away, but at least with another boy on the job, I could try to live a relatively normal life. Lucas had, anyway. And the one before him.

Ashe was entertaining the kitchen as I entered, going around in a circle with her arms under her arm pits and gobbling. “Look Unca Luke!” she giggled at my uncle, who looked amused. “I am a turkey! I know what turkey’s say! Gobble, gobble, gobble, gobble!”

“Very good, Ashe,” Lucas replied, patting her on top of the head. Ashe grinned up at him in return, crawling into his lap and cuddling into his chest. Lucas was the favorite in the family, and was probably the only person who Ashe loved as much as Blake. He wrapped an arm around her, hugging her to his chest as he sniffed the air. “Something smells good, Elisa.”

“I suppose you are staying for dinner, Lucas?” Mom asked, eyeing Lucas from her pot of whatever she was cooking.

“Sure, if you have room. You know I am always hungry. Especially for anything you cook.” He gave her a charming grin.

Mom was not fooled. “Smile all you want, Lucas. You know you are always welcome here. We are having lamb tonight. I hope that sounds good.”

“If Tony had not married you, Elisa, I would have.”

“Only for my cooking, Lucas.”

A grin. “Marriage does have it’s bonuses, I have been told.” Mom threw a dish towel at him, and he ducked it laughing. “I am kidding, Elisa. I promise you, I have no intention of stealing you from Tony. At least not yet. I will at least let him age a little first.”

A groan came from the entire household. We were used to Lucas’ bad jokes and flirtation with my mother. All of us knew he was not serious.

Lucas opened the dinner conversation, focusing once again on me. “Ross, I heard there is a new girl at school,” he said, ignoring my threat and scooping up a fork full of mashed potatoes, gravy, and lamb. “What is she like?”

I sighed, stabbing my carrot with my own fork. “She is fine. Nothing special. I do not know why you guys are making such a huge deal of this. Enid is new, she is sort of pretty, very quiet, and no, she does not have a crush on anyone. Will you all leave me alone?”

My outburst had a mixed reaction. My brothers grinned at one another, their eyebrows raised in amusement as they bit their tongues. My mother, father, and sisters looked shocked. My uncle did not care. He continued with his questions.

“Does she have any family here?”

I sighed. “Lucas, she has been here one day. For the love of God and all that is holy in the world, stop questioning me.”

His questions got me curious, however. I wanted to know more about Enid. I wanted to know her family, her past, her future. . .

A shiver ran down my spine. It sounded like the beginnings of a crush. I could not afford a crush.

I excused myself from the dinner table, trying to hide once again for the safety of my room. Lucas caught me half way, his hand grabbing my arm and stopping me from going any further. “I am sorry, Ross.” I stopped and stared at my uncle, a confused look crossing my face. He continued. “I became nosey, and I am sorry for that. But with the size of your school, and your lack of a social life --” he ignored my startled interruption. “Any new prospect of a girl is interesting.”

“Except the fact that I don’t like her that way.”

“You do not right now.” Lucas’ grin had started to work his way back on his face. I opened my mouth to start in on him, and he cut me off. “Sorry. But Ross, really. Do not rule out that prospect, okay? Please. Promise me.”

In the eighteen years of my life, I had never seen Lucas look so serious about something. Not even the time when Lucas forbade me to tell my mother it was his fault we now had a giant purple spot on our white carpet. Or the time he knocked out the dog.

“Fine,” I muttered. “I promise, Lucas. Am I free to go?”

He let go of my arm without another word, and for the first time that evening, I retreated to my room.

My room was one of the only places I felt I could be myself. I made sure the door was tightly locked before I shrugged off my shirt and relaxed enough to allow the wings pressing against my back to emerge. After nineteen years of this, I was used to the discomfort of it - Having wings sprouting from your back every evening is not normal.

When I was born, the doctor had been confused by the abnormal scars running the length of my back. He explained to my mother that it could have been a complication from the pregnancy, or possibly from delivery. My family knew the truth, though. It was the sign that an eros had been born.

Since I was small, I’ve always been very in tune with other people’s emotions. Not the general ones, such as happiness, or depression, but those that have to deal with love. I am always the first to know if someone in the school has a broken heart, or when someone dies. I know when love springs between a couple, and when it makes that transition from “I like you” to the official “I love you.” I can see people’s intensities - I know the difference between a crush and true love. I help sway them toward that goal.

I shook my wings a few times, feeling the muscles in them stretch. It felt good for them to come out at night. Keeping them in was a pain in itself.

My wings were different than most. Each eros has wings unique to the person. My uncle’s are smaller in size, but are goldish blue in color. When I was born, both my grandfather and Lucas stated they had never seen a set of wings that were quite like mine.

Mine were large. While they weren’t taller than me, they were broad, and looked strong. My brothers had been hit with one enough times to know that even though they could never lift me off the ground, there was definitely some force behind the wings. They were white in color, with random red feathers integrated through out.

The wings only ever came out at night. Year ago, Lucas and I decided it was a way of hiding our wings during the day - something our ancestor’s most likely had done. It was painful for me to have them out during the day, but even more painful for me to keep them in at night. No one else but Lucas really understood how I put up with them - to me, they were just second nature.

I rested against my bed, tapping my foot gently against the footboard. As much as I hated to admit it, Enid was on my mind. Maybe this was something other than what I knew it was going to be. Maybe she was on my mind because soon, I would be helping her find the love of her life.

No.

Enid was on my mind because as much as I hated to admit it, I liked her. I just needed to remind myself of the rules. Never fall in love. None of my kind besides Eros himself had ever fallen in love before.

Or had we?


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A/N: Apologies foremost if part of this doesn't make sense. I had my wisdom teeth cut out Thursday, and I'm still in quite a bit of pain from the procedure. I'm an admitted whimp when it comes to teeth pain - this hurts. I redid most of this chapter, seeing as it went directly from them eating and discussing Enid, to him actually TALKING with Enid. Jumped too far in time for my liking, and I wanted a chance to describe Ross' wings. To get a good image of them, has anyone ever seen the cover (or read the book, for that matter) of New Moon by Stephenie Meyer? The flower on the front of that book is exactly what Ross' wings look like. In my mind, they're gorgeous. Reviews are appreciated of course. My best friend seems to think this is one of my best works - but I dunno. Better or worse than my Osamu/Sara story? Maybe. How about you decide for me :D