CHAPTER ONE
日野原重明
Kazoku to wa, “aru” mono de wa naku, te o kakete “hagukumu” mono desu
Family is not something that is “there,” but something that is “fostered” with care and time.
~Shigeaki Hinohara, Japanese physician
Horus
Present Day Downtown Seattle, Soul Nightclub
“This is so pointless.” I look around at all the moving sweaty human bodies; back and forth, the women move their hips and hold their hands over their heads, one starts to clap like she’s proud of herself. Do I clap too? Even though it’s painful to watch? A man approaches her and grabs her ass. I shake my head. He has to know that won’t go over well. “Here comes the slap.”
I nearly spew out my beer when she punches him in the face, and he falls to the ground groaning. “More! More!” I cheer.
Tarek, my roommate, the bar manager, and a werewolf tosses one of the bar rags at me. “You know most people come here to dance and party, not to watch people get beat up.”
I turn to him and smirk; he’s wearing a black shirt that says bite me and has his shaggy brown hair pulled into one of those weird buns on his head that women seem to go crazy for. One time a girl asked if she could pull it; no idea why. “It’s much like war, is it not?”
His pain-filled stare says it all, then he mutters, “You have no idea.”
“Oh, I have ideas.” I roll my eyes. “I’ve been studying the net.”
“Internet.”
“That’s what I said.” I wave my phone screen at him. “Plus, I’m on TikTok. Did you know there’s an idiot who thinks he’s a time traveler? As if he knows anything about the advanced concept that is time.” Are all humans in this day and age dumber than when I existed? It feels like it.
Tarek grabs my phone. “Let me see—holy shit, how do you have a million followers already? You’ve been here a month—oh.” He hands me back my phone. “That makes more sense.”
“My name, Horus, god of sky? I’ll just keep posting, and they’ll keep worshipping.”
Tarek bursts out laughing, tears form in his eyes, he holds up a hand. “Hold on, I need a minute.” He laughs harder. “For a god, you’re an idiot.”
“You’re the idiot.” I stand and shove my barstool back. I don’t exactly tower over him, but I am larger. Why does he always pick fights with me?
“You’re posting thirst traps, dumb-dumb.” He wipes the tears from his eyes. “I’m surprised you haven’t been banned already!”
“Banned? Who would dare to ban me?”
“The people that don’t think it’s appropriate to post this.” He shows me the phone. I’m facing the window with a cup of coffee, shirtless, in nothing but black boxer briefs that seem to have come halfway down my ass.
Oh yeah, I think I was in the process of getting dressed, but the sunlight hit differently, so I put my phone in one of those holder things and snapped a photo, then forgot the camera was still taking pictures.
I roll my eyes. “Nudity is normal.”
“Yes.” Tarek blinks slowly. “It’s completely normal, but you don’t just go posting for the world to see and shit man.” He shows me another photo of myself. “You realize everyone who likes this next photo is because you’re naked in bed with the sheets covering, like nothing but your cock, right?”
I shrug. “I was heated.”
“Yup and they probably were too, looking at that pic.” He laughs. “Lots of ‘I’m questioning my sexuality’ comments. Nice.” His mocking laugh grates on my nerves. It’s also extremely humbling that I’m constantly getting laughed at or mocked for not knowing how to use a toaster. Who the hell would know what one even is thousands of years ago?
Irritated, I snap, “Give that back.” I grab my phone and attempt to slide it back into my too-tight black jeans pocket, giving up when I catch Tarek smirking at my struggle.
The girls have been trying to dress me lately, and I swear they buy jeans way too small; cock and ass are going to bust through one of these days. How’s that my problem?
I roll my eyes and stare down at my phone. “What’s the big deal about gray sweatpants anyway?”
“You’re hopeless.” Tarek slaps me on the shoulder. “And lucky for you, it’s time for your shift, so stop attempting to get drunk and train the new hire.”
My ears perk at that. I like meeting new people. I find it fascinating to watch their suffering and complaints; they’re so different from the ones we used to hear during worship when people would sacrifice for favors.
Back then, they wanted good crops, they wanted success, fortune, and love. But now it seems like the only thing I hear is that people want to be famous and make a lot of money.
They don’t even care about love anymore.
I toss back the rest of my beer, knowing it will sadly do nothing by the time it hits my system. I drink it because I like the taste, but getting drunk is pretty much impossible for me; it always has been.
Pity.
Maybe the girl dancing near the door would be prettier if I had those beer goggles on. She beckons me with her finger and winks. Her jet-black hair is pulled back so tight it has to hurt her head, and her lipstick is a bit smudged.
Should I save her?
I sigh. “Be right back.”
“Can’t save them all,” Tarek calls after me.
“I can try.” I speed up my pace and then stop right in front of her pressing her back against the wall.
“You’re beautiful.” She isn’t slurring yet; that’s good. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”
“Horus,” I say quickly. “And you? What’s your pain?”
“You mean name?”
“Pain,” I say again. “What’s your pain?”
“I don’t under—”
I tilt her chin upward toward me. “Show me your eyes.”
Her lower lip trembles. “What are you doing?”
“Searching.” I tilt my head to the side and press a hand to the pulse on her neck; it quickens with my touch, and then her heart finally speaks.
Lonely.
That’s normal.
I pull back. “Do you like hockey?”
“Huh?”
“Hockey, the one with sticks, they play on ice and hit each other. Do you like it?” I have someone
in mind for her that would be perfect, he’s a bit older, but if that’s not her preference, at least she’ll be out and have a good time. “Do you?”
“Yeah, I actually used to go to games all the time.”
For the briefest second, I detect ice in her pulse. Interesting. “Perfect, there’s a game tomorrow night. Give me your name and number, and I’ll have a ticket waiting for you. The person you’re meeting will be wearing a red sweater and holding a pretzel. He too feels lonely but loves hockey, so you might hit it off, you might not, but I think what’s important from what I can see with you is finding a connection, and you’ll never find that at Soul”
Tears well in her eyes.
I lean in and press a chaste kiss to her lips. Her name is Jessica Long, age thirty-five, divorcee, no kids, she lives in the University district in an apartment she hates, and she’s tired. She’s a fourth-grade teacher. Wow, she just might be perfect. I pull more information through her mouth and store it away for her date. When I stop the kiss, her eyes are dazed.
“What was that?”
“That’s how I say hello.” I grin and hand my phone to her. “Number, Jessica?”
She frowns. “I don’t think I told you my name.”
“I’m good at guessing.” I wave the phone in front of her.
She takes it and puts her name in it.
Nodding my approval, I snatch it back. “I’ve got to go back to work, but maybe you should go home now? Take a nice, hot bath.” My pupils dilate along with hers.
She nods slowly. “Yeah, yeah, good idea, thanks… Horus.”
“Just doing my job.” The one I miss.
She leaves the bar and nearly runs into another woman walking in.
This new woman… she smells different.
The newcomer has dirty blond hair pulled into a high ponytail; it’s clearly been dyed, but not for a while. The dark circles under her eyes reveal extreme exhaustion. She
e would be flawless if she didn’t look so tired, with her round innocent face and full, bow-shaped pink lips. Dark lashes slowly fan as she stares at me.
It’s like just looking at me is putting her to sleep.
I shake my head and turn. “Um, sir, excuse me, I noticed the black Soul shirt on you… I’m here for my first shift and—“
Instantly, the wind is knocked out of me, something that never happens. Well, that was unexpected.
I hang my head and turn. “I’m your guy.”
Her eyes widen.
“Training. I’m going to be training you.”
“Oh!” She nods, then drops her purse onto the floor. Is she drunk? All of her things fall out, revealing an obscene amount of energy drink packets and several bottles of prescription pills.
Too bad, I’ll have to fire her.
We don’t allow drunks, or drug users, or girls who…
She reaches for the last bottle, then collapses right in front of me and starts to snore.What the hell?
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