Thomas Sniegoski: A Hundred Words for Hate

Yes, Remy was back, but this time the guise of the Seraphim warrior had been put aside gently. There was no struggle, as there used to be, only the painless replacement of the angelic with the human. And although the angelic nature floated just below the surface, Remy was all right with that. It was where it needed to be: side by side with his humanity.

He was a Seraphim, but he was also a man.

Returning to his apartment this last time had felt strangely wrong—not only because it was empty, but because he wasn’t the same as when he’d left.

Shedding his warrior guise had been easy. He’d showered, dressed his wounds, and made himself presentable. He’d then driven right over to Linda Somerset’s apartment, not even bothering to call first.

But here he sat.

“Aren’t you going in?” a sweet voice asked from the passenger seat.

Remy looked over and saw Madeline sitting there, as beautiful as she always was.

“Don’t rush me,” he said, and smiled.

She smiled back, but then grew serious. “What’s wrong, Remy?”

“I have to get used to this again,” he explained. “It feels like I’ve been gone from this sort of . . . normalcy for so long.”

“You need to get used to being human again? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I guess that’s it,” he said, looking through the windshield at Linda’s third-floor windows. There was a light on, casting a warm glow through a white curtain. It was inviting . . . comforting, and Remy focused on that.

“You weren’t gone so long, y’know,” Madeline commented.

“I know,” he said. “But it felt like forever . . . and the changes.”

“Sometimes changes are good.”

“Yeah, they are,” he said, and truly believed it.

“Go on,” Madeline encouraged. “The baby needs to see his father.”

Remy looked at his wife, terribly missing the reality of her.

“I think I might’ve screwed things up pretty good with Linda,” he said.

It was Madeline’s turn to look through the windshield.

“Well, you’ll never know if you don’t go up there.”

“As profound as always,” Remy said as he turned off the engine. He looked toward his wife to say thank-you.

But she was already gone.

Remy was halfway up the third flight of stairs when he heard the sound of a door unlocking . . . followed by the familiar jingling of a chain collar. And then he was met at the top of the stairs by the most excited black Labrador retriever he’d ever seen.

“Hey, buddy.” Remy laughed, squatting down so his face could be thoroughly licked.

“ Hi ,” Marlowe barked between kisses. “Hi. Hi. Hi.”

“Did you miss me?” Remy asked, rubbing his velvety soft ears and kissing his cold, wet snout. “I certainly missed you.”

“ Missed you ,” Marlowe said, panting excitedly. “Missed you much.”

And suddenly Remy found himself that much more in tune with his humanity, the events of the last week already receding into memory.

He rose to his feet, dog dancing happily around him, and walked down the hallway toward Linda’s apartment.

She appeared in the doorway then, leaning against the jamb, arms crossed.

“Hey,” he said with a sheepish smile.

“I thought he was going to tear my door down to get out,” Linda said. “I knew it had to be you to get that kind of a reaction.”

“He must’ve smelled me coming up the stairs,” Remy said, keeping a respectful distance.

“Must have.”

Marlowe jumped on Linda, knocking her back against the doorframe. He barked excitedly before returning to Remy.

“I know, I know, Remy’s home,” she said with a laugh. “We thought he’d left you forever.”

Ouch! Remy felt that one.

“Yeah, about that,” he said as he affectionately thumped the dog’s side.

“Yeah?” she asked.

He stepped closer, drawn to her annoyance.

“Things just got out of hand with the case, and I’m sorry,” he told her.

“Marlowe was worried,” she said.

He looked down into his dog’s deep brown eyes. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Marlowe,” he said.

“ Okay ,” the dog barked in response.

“He’s forgiven me,” Remy said, moving closer to her.

“I was worried,” she said. Her eyes grew slightly wider as the words left her mouth, as if they surprised her.

“I’m sorry, Linda,” he said in all earnestness, hoping that she could see how bad he felt.

She was quiet for a moment. “I’m not sure I believe you,” she said at last, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

“You’re not?” Remy asked, pretending to be serious. “Marlowe, Linda doesn’t believe I’m sorry,” he said to his dog.

Marlowe whined, ears going flat.

“I know. It’s a terrible situation. But what can I do?”

Marlowe tilted his head to one side, crying again, then letting out a pathetic bark.

“Kiss her?” Remy said.

He looked from the dog to her.

“He said I should kiss you.”

“ Did not ,” Marlowe barked.

“What’d he say then?” Linda asked.

“He was stressing just how much I should be kissing you.”

“Do you always do what your dog tells you to do?”

“He’s never steered me wrong before,” Remy replied, staring deeply into the warmth of her eyes.

“Hmm, you should probably do as he says, then,” Linda suggested.

“Do you think it’ll work?” Remy asked. “That whole proving-I’m-sorry thing?”

“Never can tell till you try,” Linda said.

Remy moved closer, drawn to her heat, drawn to her beautiful humanity. It was all here now, everything he’d been missing since his return from Eden.

The spark to reignite what it was all about.

He leaned his face close to hers, their lips on the verge of touching, then finally coming together, soft at first, gradually becoming harder, more forceful.

Eager.

Remy broke the connection first. “Do you believe me now?” he asked.

Linda looked surprised, her cheeks flushed red. “Not quite.” She reached up and pulled him closer.

Marlowe was barking now, telling them to stop, to pay attention to him.

“What’s your problem?” Remy stopped kissing Linda to ask the dog.

“He thinks we should move this inside before we get complaints from the neighbors,” Linda answered instead, taking Remy’s hand, tugging him toward the open door.

“Did you say that?” Remy asked Marlowe.

“ No ,” he barked, tail wagging furiously.

“Just wanted to be sure.”

Remy allowed himself to be led inside Linda’s apartment, Marlowe following obediently behind.

They kissed again just inside the doorway, lost in the heat of passion.

Lost in the passion of their humanity.

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Where Angels Fear to Tread