Divinity: The Gathering: Book One (25 page)

“
It’s coffee,” Rahab said matter-of-factly, as if I should have known that.

“Real coffee?” I
asked with raised brows.

“I created, ground and brewed it fresh myself a few moments ago when you said you were on
your way. It’s real. Everything else I got is fresh too.” Rahab pursed his lips.

             
The restroom door opened again just as we ceased our conversation, and Rahab and I turned to watch her as she made her way back over to us slowly, and eased back onto the barstool beside me. She had combed her hair, and pulled her gorgeous spiral curls back into a pony tail. It looked as if she had washed her face as well. It was brighter, and she seemed more awake and perkier, though a hint of faint dark circles still remained beneath her eyes.

Just as I predict
ed, her eyes immediately zoned in on the tattoos along my forearms, wrists and palms.

She di
d see them. I already had a feeling she would be able to, since she could see my signature even when cloaked, and she could sense my energy.

First
, her beautiful sapphire eyes held surprise, then curiosity, and finally admiration. I was sure she didn’t want to seem rude when she turned away, reached for a paper menu, and began to scan the selections. I could tell she was still staring at my forearms from her periphery, as if she were debating on asking me about them.

I knew she wanted to.

The texture of her skin was smooth and even; the color of soft, lightly sun-kissed, honey beige. Her eyes were even more of a vivid dark navy blue underneath her long, thick dark brown lashes, and her lips were full and naturally pink; like the color of the inside of a ruby grapefruit. She had a cute button nose, and I wanted so badly to stroke her soft cheek and her delicate lips.

I wasn’t so much simply marveling at her beauty
, but trying to analyze or find the very reasons why her aura was so much stronger than other chosen. Surely, there had to be some tale-tell things that would give way, as to why Morning Star wanted her so badly too.

             
Rahab nudged me hard, snapping me out of my gaze after he had finished pouring my coffee. He then slid the steaming aromatic cup in front of me, and moved over to carefully cut a perfect slice from the pie that was sitting inside a glass display stand. He set it on a small plate, putting a fork on the side, and then placed it in front me. I was grateful for his reminder, since I didn’t want her to look over to find me ogling her.

“I think
, I’ll just have a cheeseburger with everything, and the tater tots— oh and a coke,” She said to Rahab, closing the menu, and setting it back neatly where it had been.

“Coming right up,” Rahab smiled e
nthusiastically, bowing his head and backing up through the swinging doors leading into the kitchen. He had to duck his head to fit, just as he had done when he came out of it.

We were left alone for the moment
, and I covertly heated the plate by touch to warm the pie, immediately inhaling the sweet scent of warm strawberries that made my mouth water.

Her
brow quirked at the sudden aroma of the warm pie that had apparently reached her, and she looked down at my plate, and then up at me.

“Wow, I can really smell it now
, and it looks good too. I haven’t had a really good pie in a while.” She commented looking at my slice.

“Here,” I said sliding my plate over to her.

She held up a hand to stop me, “No, you eat it. If I have room I may just get a slice too. I love strawberries.” She smiled.

I nodded
, pulling the plate back in front of me.

“Me too,” I smiled with quaint surprise, “So where does the name Star come from? I’m just curious.” I then asked her after a brief bout of s
ilence, where she took the opportunity to look around and admire the jukebox.

I already knew her full name.

She turned back to face me, and seemed to hesitate. She shifted slightly on the barstool, and she sighed in thought for a moment, “Um, it’s short for Starling,” She said passively.

I smiled, “Starling?
That’s beautiful, I like that.” I told her sincerely.

“Yeah it’s cute.” She said nonchalantly.

“You don’t like it?” I asked.

“Not really. I mean I do but my parents and my grandmother were the only ones who ever called me that
, and anyway they’re all deceased.” She said drawing the obvious emotions that statement brought on back into herself, and flashing me a quick smile.

“There’s a lot of meaning in names. Starling has many meanings where I’m from. Star describes first chosen of the light, one who is special, unique and highly favored. I think bo
th variations fit you,” I told her.

She seemed a bit
surprised and speechless at my compliment at first as she glanced up at me and smiled. I hoped she didn’t take it as me coming on too strongly.

“An
d where are you from?” She asked softly.

The very moment
that our eyes locked, I was lost in hers, trying to delve deeper into her thoughts, her weaknesses, her ideas, and her emotions. They were all a complete mystery to me.

The power
of her gaze was about as penetrating as my own, and I revered how her dark sapphire colored eyes sparkled with an innocent wisdom and curiosity. I wondered what she was seeing in mine, and what she was thinking this very moment as well.

I smirked, “The old world,” I finally joked
, looking down at my pie and cutting into it with my fork. I had to do something in order to break my underlying urges from continuing to manifest within me.

She nodded, “I thought something like that. I mean you open doors for me or is that just a cop thing?” She smiled.

“No, it isn’t just a cop thing.” I chuckled because I found her comment humorous, and was relieved that she apparently had a different predisposed idea of what I had meant by that.

Her beautiful smile grew even brighter at that moment
, despite the nasty bruising and cut that marred her lip. There was another momentary silence.

Then she cleared her throat
, and her demeanor changed to a more of a cheery one to match her smile. I wondered what she was thinking about just now.

“So were you two like college buddies or som
ething, basketball or football all-stars by any chance?” She smirked, and asked me as she leaned forward on the counter with her arms folded in front of her.

I laughed. Stereotyping was she?

“No, not athletes, but we are long time good friends.” I told her with a smile.

She nodded as her eyes casually traveled down to my forearms
, with renewed curiosity once again. She was dying to ask me about my brandings since she first saw them, just as I had hoped she would.

The intricate ones along my forearms and wrists were where my weapons were marked
, and from where they were wielded. Something she’d come to know and understand in the spirit realm once she became a full divine warrior.

She gave a nod to
my forearms, studying them in awe, “I didn’t know they allowed those kinds of tattoos, being a police officer.” She commented.

I paused for a moment.

That wasn’t the initial question I had expected from her.

“They don’t, not usually
, but in my case they made an exception,” I tried to search for a lie.

Her brow
s furrowed.

“Really? Well, what are they? I mean usually there’s someth
ing prophetic or poetic in tattoos. I’ve never seen ones like yours before though. They almost look, tribal,” She said, studying them with more interest now.

They weren’t actually tattoos
, even though they resembled them. We all had some sort of branding in the form of weapons and magic, or both. They were branded into the flesh, to become one with the being, and all you had to do was simply will them in order to wield them. I had received mine as an Angel, but the marks and lines had instantly morphed into a dark, brick red color once I fell, and my bonded weapon became cursed along with me.

“They are, sort of. They’re actually symbols that stand for all things infinite, just, resolut
e and undefeatable.” I explained to her, which wasn’t far from the truth.

“That one looks almost like the shape of a
sword,” She pointed to the drawn lines that marked the inside of my right forearm; running its length to my palm, and pointing towards the crook of my elbow.

I took adoration in her wonder of me. Her guess had been correct. It was my main weapon, a full, obsidian, double-edged, di
amond grade, sword, baptized in my own blood, with a glyphic inscribed edge of light to add more power to its deadly strike.

“It’s something like that.” I told her.

“They’re incredible. I like them. Where did you get them done?” She then asked, appreciating the design and artwork.

I smiled, unable to keep from watching
, and admiring her again.

“A friend, it was freelance work.” I lied again.

“Oh.” She seemed disappointed.

I wished I could tell her that one of the divines gifted with the affinity of weaponry
, would be branding hers onto her own arms and hands after she had been trained. Because then, I could also warn her that it was going to be the worst, and most painful experience that she has ever felt in all her life as well.

I wondered what her weapon would be.
I pictured her with maybe something like a mace, ninjato like sword or cross bolt, but nothing too heavy for her size — not that great strength would be an issue. She would have that automatically no matter what her stature.

And then another thought saddened me to even contemplate.

“So, are you a nurse or thinking of being one?” I then asked her to change the subject, and push that thought away.

“I’m not a nurse
, I just volunteer there as an aide.” She said.

“Vo
lunteer? I find that virtuous in a place like that.” I replied.

She smiled coyly again, averting her eyes from mine
, pretending to admire the diner’s décor. I found myself gazing at her in awe once again too, I couldn’t help doing it.

“Here we go
, a burger with the works, with tater tots fresh and hot,” Rahab announced as he pushed through the doors, toting the well stacked hamburger, small golden brown discs and an unopened red can of Coca-Cola.

This sandwich was nearly as big as her head
, and I wondered how she would eat it. It did look mouth-watering, arranged and plated picture-perfectly, and smelling just as delicious as it all looked. It wouldn’t have taken Rahab any time at all to finish her order, but being the good friend that he was, Rahab had purposefully taken his time to give us a moment to be alone to talk.

I glanced at Rahab for a moment with fu
rrowed brows, as my eyes traveled to the size of the monstrously thick burger— complete with the works, and then to her mouth.

His mouth formed a silent
‘O’, as if he didn’t even consider how she’d be able to eat it.

“Um, I could cut it in half or quarter it for you,” he offered.

She shook her head, “No, no need. It looks amazing, thank you Ray.” She smiled, carefully licking her lips and pushing a stray tendril of hair behind her ear as Rahab slid her meal and coke in front of her.

Rahab
and I exchanged surprised glances. We watched as she opened the bun, and commenced to drown the cheese covered patty in ketchup.

“You are quite welcome,” He bowed and gushed in the compliment she gave.

Rahab loved to cook, and even more when his guests gave him positive feedback, as any chef would. Rahab pretended to wipe the counter, but we were both amused and curious, as I ate my pie. We both continued to enjoy watching her out of our peripheries.

She hesitated
, and worked her mouth a bit to test how much it would hurt before she managed to finally take a good sized bite out of it— impressing us both. For someone as small as she was, I couldn’t see her finishing that burger let alone the burger and tater tots, but she did.

Being satiated and full had definitely changed her demeanor, and she no longer seemed preoccupied with what happened. That had been my whole goal. Now, I could pick up on the exhaustion from her drained energy, and I knew it was time to take her back to her apartment. It was evident that she needed much rest. Though I wanted to talk to her longer, just us two alone, I knew I’d get more opportunities soon, so I would be patient. Rahab loved her already, I could tell, and so far there were no visible signs of Drakael or the displeasure of Elohim over my interference in the mortal realm…yet.

             
She made herself comfortable, and leaned back in the passenger seat, silent at first so I didn’t speak either in case she wanted to sleep on the drive back to the University. It allowed me to think about what was to come, and what I would do about it. She hadn’t moved or spoken since leaning back, so I assumed she had indeed fallen asleep. Her face was turned away from me, towards the passenger window, and her body rocked gently with the motion of the cruiser.