"Wait, say it again?" I say, my brow furrows as I fight against a smile.

Rachel scoffs and rolls her eyes. "No."

"Seriously," I say, bumping her shoulder with mine playfully. "I swear I won't laugh."

"Liar." Rachel replies as she flips through a book with a leather tie, finding the page she was looking for, propping it open on the floor.

"You're probably right," I say, letting my lips stretch a bit more, "could you say it anyway?"

"Fuck you, Calliope," Rachel says a little louder, laughing as she smacks my thigh.

"So hostile," I say, sitting in the painted red circle topped with a thick layer of white salt with black candles and incense. The hardwood is making my butt sore. "These rocks are pretty."

"They're crystals, you twit and don't touch them."

"Is your roommate gonna lose her shit if she comes home and sees this?"

"She went to LA to visit her boyfriend so she won't be back until Monday."

I don't really know what I'm doing here. My childhood best friend has decided that she is a witch and has me over for a "summoning," which sounds ominous, but I figure I could show her some support in her endeavors. I'm not entirely sure why she needs me for this, but she asked and for some weird reason, I am intrigued. There are worse ways to spend a Friday night, I think.

"Do I even want to know what you are summoning?" I ask, as she walks to the fridge and pulls out a plastic container full of…"Rach, what the hell is that?"

"Calm down, it's not human," Rachel says, like that made it better.

"I didn't sign up for anything with blood, Rachel," I say, my face screwing up as she poured the thick red liquid into a copper bowl.

"As it turns out, you did." She says, smirking as she places the bowl over an odd looking red symbol in the center of the circle.

"I'm pretty sure when you invited me to this shindig, drinking blood was not mentioned."

Rachel laughs as she walks back into the kitchen and fills two glasses with red wine. She comes back and hands me a glass. "Relax, no one is drinking blood, Cali. That's not what this is about." Rachel kneels with the bowl of blood in front of her and she looks down at the book.

"What is this about?" I ask, wondering if I should just shut up and wait for this to be over because maybe I don't really want to know.

"You'll see." She says and she takes a sip of her wine. She throws some dried stuff into the blood and starts chanting in a foreign language. I shift to cross my legs on the floor, idly fiddling with my favorite locket resting on my chest, intrigue fading into dull boredom as I wait to find out what is going to happen next. Honestly, I kinda thought we were over this whole witchy thing after we watched The Craft and realized "Light As A Feather, Stiff As A Board," was totally bogus. I guess Rachel still had it in her system. So, I sipped my wine as she threw what looked like tiny bones, and more dried shit in. I'm starting to wonder how that bowl of biohazard is gonna be disposed of after this is over.

Then the flames of the candles suddenly transform into massive torches of fire and I curse out loud as I jump. The wax of the candles melt away in seconds. Rachel is somehow unphased as she continues to chant with her eyes closed and her head lolling back. The windows of the small living room thrust open and a wind blows in, displacing our hair and the lights flicker out.

"Okay, what is this?" I say as I shift to try and stand. Rachel's hand shoots out and grabs my arm, forcing me back down. "Rachel, what the hell?"

Her body begins to rock as she releases my arm and then the torch light from the candles suddenly disappear and we are shrouded in the inky black dark, the only light spilling in from the bright moon outside. My heart rate is starting to thrum against my ribs as whispers begin to echo throughout the room.

"Okay, I've had enough of this." I say, but Rachel is suddenly quiet and I still as I see her looking at me. No, not at me at something behind me.

"Welcome," Rachel says softly as I turn to see a dark figure crouched in the corner by the sliding glass door leading out to the balcony. Two blue lights appear where eyes would be and my entire body floods with icy fear, sluicing painfully through my veins as the figure stands. I'm panting as my heart slams itself against my chest, balling my fists as I turn to face whatever Rachel has "summoned," into the living room of her apartment.

"What. The fuck. Is that?" I whisper as the figure rises to its full impressive height. Well over six-feet, with clearly masculine broad shoulders, and completely veiled in darkness. It took a step forward, its glowing blue eyes fixed on me and I scramble backwards, nearly knocking over the copper bowl of blood as I displace the rocks, paint and salt.

"It's okay Calliope," Rachel says calmly as the light from the moon silhouettes the figure allowing me to see that it's…a guy. He's in a black T-shirt, with a black blazer rolled up to his forearms and dark jeans with black and white Chuck Taylors. I mean, he's clearly not normal because his eyes are glowing blue, but he steps into the moonlight and my heart rate begins to slow as the threat level begins to wane. Was this a joke? Did she hire some guy to come in here with weird contacts and some clearly impressive skills in pyrotechnics?

"Hello again, Rachel." Nope. That voice was deep and distinctively not human. That voice was not from this planet or even this reality. It made my entire body shudder as I imagined it ripping through the void of darkness at the dawn of creation, forcing light and matter to collide and spark. Every cell in my body yielded and trembled at the tone and tenor of his voice. And if I could melt, I would.

"W-what,-" I stammer and the…whatever he is looks at me.

"Calliope." He breathes and it is probably the single most beautiful sound I've ever heard in my life. Better than music or laughter or wind and rain and what the fuck is happening right now? "You have nothing to fear," he says.

"Objection." I say, and I don't know how or why my sarcasm has managed to survive the ice field that is my blood and body currently, but lo and behold, thar she be. "I believe I do."

"I'm not going to harm you, Calliope," he says and I think I could die just listening to his voice. Holy shit.

"Cali, this is Azazel." Rachel says, striking a match and lighting a fresh candle. The warm glow weakly illuminates his features as he runs his fingers through his tousled black hair.

"Okay." I say, as I look back to Rachel and then to Azazel.

"Azazel is yours." Rachel says and I scoff.

"I'm sorry. Mine? What-I don't understand what that even,-"

"I've been waiting to meet you for a very long time." Azazel says, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"M-meet me?" I say furrowing my brow. "Look, I just came to watch and…I dunno be supportive of my weirdo best friend."

Azazel smiles and I feel my guts liquify. "Rachel said you were funny."

"Oh cool," I say, my eyes flicking over to Rachel and she shrugs as she smiles. "Can someone please explain to me what is happening right now?"

Rachel laughs and stands up. "I'm gonna go flip the breaker if you want to explain, Az?"

Az? They have pet names? Azazel nods as Rachel grabs a flashlight from the drawer in her kitchen and I track her as she does so. "Wait you're not just gonna leave me with,-"

"I'll be right back, Cali. Just sit tight." Rachel says as she walks down the hall to the small set of stairs that lead up to the loft. I look back to Azazel and his glowing blue eyes are fixed on me. I swallow hard against my now suddenly dry throat.

"So, you uh,-" I start, feeling my humor try to cover up the fact that I feel incredibly awkward and caught completely off guard. "How long have you and Rachel been…seeing each other?"

He narrows his eyes. "If the insinuation is me desiring her sexually, I do not." Azazel says earnestly, and my cheeks flush hot.

"Oh I didn't mean,-" what did I mean though? "I just,-" God, say something smart, don't be a dumbass. "Thought you two might be a thing, since she summoned you…or something." I am an idiot.

Azazel chuckles and the sound vibrates my bones, right down to the marrow. "You need not fear me Calliope."

"Right, some hot dude with glowing eyes shows up after my witchy friend 'summons' him and everything is totally fine." My sarcasm has again taken the reins.

Azazel takes a step closer to me and my body locks up, the cold in my veins turning me to a block of ice. "Calliope," he purrs and the vibration is like a spring thaw as the sound warms my skin. I relax a bit still watching him intently however, not allowing all of my guard to recede.

"I think I should go home. This has all been…a lot." I say softly.

"Home?" he asks, his chin ticks up slightly.

"Yeah," I say, trying to stand and not knock over Rachels bowl of gross. I brush off my jeans and Azazel holds out his hand palm up to me when the lights suddenly flick on. His eyes are less arresting as the bright light dampens the blue glow. He is still watching me, waiting for me.

"You wanna…hold hands?" I ask arching a brow.

"I want you to take it, yes." Azazel says, the corners of his mouth tick up softly.

"Why?" I ask.

"I can take you home." He says, his palm stretching out closer to me.

"I have this great contraption called a car. It does a fabulous job of,-" I am interrupted by him taking my forearm in his grip and the world around me folds and swirls in on itself. I try to scream but before I can, I land in a very large room, filled with golden sunshine, curtains of bright green plants and the midday blue summer sky surrounds us as if we were suspended in the clouds on top of a high rise. I feel nauseous as I take in the very different, very foreign world around me. "Hoookay, what was that? Where are we? How the hell did you do that?" I ramble as I stumble back onto a wall covered in what seems like ivy with oversized leaves.

"I took you home." Azazel says as he smiles and begins sitting onto nothing, but then a chair appears out of thin air to catch him as he sits.

"My home, dude. Where are we right now?"

"You did not specify that before." He says, reaching for something and then a glass of liquid appears in his outstretched hand.

"I'm specifying now, Azazel. I want to-," I take in a wall full of bottles and stop short. "-is that wine?"

His smile is cat-like as he says, "it is."

I fold my arms over my chest, feeling flushed and warm in my sweater. "I could hang out for a little bit, I guess."

Azazel smiles wide and his perfect white teeth gleam as he says, "wonderful." A glass of cranberry red wine in a stemless crystal glass appears in front of me and I jump. "Pinot Noir, your favorite."

My eyes switch back and forth between his devastating smile and the wine glass currently defying gravity. I straighten up, choosing violence. "No, it isn't."

He cocks his head to the side, resembling a beautiful but somehow frightening puppy. "Yes, it is."

"No. No, actually it's…shiraz."

His brows furrow, "you called shiraz 'yet another abomination from Australia.'"

My face goes slack. "I said that like, five years ago and how the-," I put my hands on my hips, sucking my lips between my teeth as I tap my foot in nervous frustration. "Do I even want to know how you know that?"

Azazel's face falls as he stands, the seat and the glass disappearing as he draws closer. He stops in front of me and I have to crane up to look into his tropical sea eyes. I sigh like a mooning idiot. His face is soft but completely earnest when he says, "perhaps I should start at the beginning."

"Who and what I am, is hard to explain. Humans have called us many things over the millennia. Demons, angels, fairies, spirits, gods, aliens...the truth is that your Earth and mine exist at the same time but are on different spectrums of reality. They spin together like a Venn diagram and pass through one another during certain times of the year, which meshes both of our Earth's realities for short periods. But what matters now is our story, Calliope."

"A long time ago, a woman named Katharine, found a way to slip into our world. It was by accident and as she made her way through the woods, she got injured. That day a man named Fenris was hunting in the woods and found her. He carried her to his cabin and cared for her. They became close and before he brought her back to her home, she gave him a necklace to remember her by. Katharine returned to her small garden house in the woods, wondering and hoping for when she would see him again."

"One day Katharine heard Fenris' cry coming from the woods. She ran through the trees looking for him and found him on the ground, bleeding from an arrow lodged in his thigh. She went to him and before he could explain, a large wormhole ripped open in the middle of the woods, the sounds of soldiers bellowed from the void. Katharine pulled him into the brush, covered up the blood left on the dirt and covered them both in her cloak as she recited a masking spell."

"Wait, hold up. A spell?" I say incredulously.

"Yes, Katharine was an incredibly gifted seer or as some would call a witch. However I do believe the latter has a relatively negative connotation."

"Yeah, accurate. Go on." I say, leaning back onto the couch that appeared out of nowhere for me to sit upon. Thank goodness Azazel's tale has been gripping my attention because otherwise I would most definitely be falling asleep, it's that comfy.

"The masking spell worked and the soldiers went back through the wormhole. Katharine took Fenris back to her cottage which was ravaged by the enemies that came and went. She cared for him. He healed remarkably fast from his wounds but stayed to help Katharine mend her home, allowing the danger for him in his world to wane. Before he returned, he made a vow that they would be together once the threat to his life was over."

"So am I, like, related to Katharine or something?"

"In a sense." Azazel says with a nod while he sits next to me on the fluffy magical couch, sipping a glass of Pinot Noir. "You possess the same power that Katharine had."

Power? "Are you saying I'm a witch?"

"So to speak." He drawls.

I inhale and let out a long breath. "So am I expected to like, do the chanting stuff that Rachel does, or,-"

"You have magic if you choose to wield it, but it's up to you." Azazel says, swirling the wine in the glass.

"This is very, 'You're a wizard, Harry,' ya know?" I say with a snort and in a terrible south London cockney. Azazel bunches his brows as his bright blue eyes peer at me over his glass.

He swallows his wine and says coolly, "I thought wizards were males." He leans forward, forearms resting on his knees, "and who is Harry?" My cheeks flush red as I wring my fingers through my long curly brown hair.

"Nevermind," I say quietly, looking for a spot to place my empty wine glass, but then the cup starts to fill with more and I smile. "I need this at home. My home, that is."

Azazel chuckles and the sound still hits hard through my body, rocking everything off kilter as I sip from my newly replenished cup and then I suppress a yawn as I stretch out my legs. It had to be at least three in the morning for me, but where Azazel is, it seems like midday. My body was on an entirely different clock.

"You're tired," he says as I meet his eyes and give him a tight smile.

"It's past my bedtime back on Earth." I say. Azazel stands, his cup disappearing as he stretches out his palm to me like he did at Rachel's. This time, I slide my fingers over the plane of his big hand, and it feels strong but still gentle as it envelops mine. He guides me up and my glass disappears, and then the couch. "So, what do we do now?" I say looking up at Azazel. I can practically feel the warmth radiating off of his broad chest.

He points to the necklace I have on my neck. "When you need me, hold that and say my name."

"That's it?" I say, cocking a brow. "No like, bowl of blood and creepy chanting?"

"None of that." Azazel says, shaking his head with an unscrupulous smile.

"Wait, so everything that Rachel did,-"

"Completely unnecessary," he says, his eyes gleaming roguishly.

"But, but, how did Rachel find-,"

He interrupts my tirade by grabbing my forearm and everything folds and contracts in on itself. There's color and light and discordant sound and then we land. The familiar light and sound of my condo should be a welcoming comfort to my senses, but I lean over onto my knees and take a few steady deep breaths, willing myself not to throw up.

"Are you alright Calliope?" Azazel asks, placing his hand gently between my shoulder blades.

I hold up a finger as I clear my throat, swallowing down the bile that crept up from my stomach. "I…would like a warning…before that happens again. Please and thank you."

"I forget how disorienting splitting can be for humans." He says, gently rubbing my back and…it's distracting me from my nausea but I don't know if it's better. A tightness coils up in my hips and I clear my throat, standing up straight and see we're…in my bedroom.

Cool. That doesn't help at all.

"Splitting?" I say trying to not think about how his hand felt rubbing my back.

"It is the art of accessing wormholes or splitting time/space barriers. Essentially, it is folding the fabric of space so that one point is closer to the other."

"Oh." I say lamely, feeling like my liberal arts degree was not going to help me understand all that very much. I sit on the edge of my bed feeling the fatigue beginning to crawl its way up my back and creep over my eyelids as I let my mouth stretch into a yawn without reservation this time. "So, you can 'split' anytime you want?" I say, rubbing my eyes as Azazel squats down in front of me. "Man, I wish I could do that." I mumble, chuckling to myself. "Could use that trick in so many-,"

"Go to sleep Calliope," he says, placing his hand over mine. His warmth is wonderful and his touch sends little waves of lightning up my arm and I try to ignore it. His thumb rubs over my wrist and it sparkles along the surface of my skin. Then I blink and he is gone.

Like a lot of people, I don't remember my dreams. I could be dreaming of getting plowed by Henry Caville and to my utter and complete disappointment, I wouldn't remember it when I wake up. I know that sounds like an over exaggeration, but it's true. I never ever remember anything that happens when I sleep. All I have is this slippery awareness that I had been dreaming, like smoke with no origin, it remains a secret just out of reach. It was never an issue until I woke up a few hours after falling asleep, sweating and panting.

Remembering.

I remembered everything in vivid detail.

Granted, it was snippets. Fractures of scenes from a different time.

A woman that looked just like me, light brown eyes framed by dark lashes, long golden hair, petite but lean and spry. She was in a dress of emerald green and crushed velvet, babies breath cascading down her long curly tresses. A man was with her. He stood with her in the woods and the gray fog surrounded them, as if the forest hid them from everything, like it was keeping them within its own heart. The man was tall, muscular, bright electric green eyes with dark brown hair and a strong jaw. He carried a bow and a quiver of arrows on his back: a hunter. Around his neck was a locket…my locket. He took it off and placed it in her hand. He began to mutter something. His voice…I knew that voice. The low intonation and otherworldly sound lit my blood and vibrated my bones. What he was saying was muffled, like words spoken underwater but as he did, the locket glowed a bright blue.

Then the scene shifted and the hunter stood in a cold dark stone throne room. Banners of black, silver, and green hung from the high ceiling with a symbol of a cup with fire bursting from the center. Sitting on a dark stained wood throne in front of him sat a king with bright glowing yellow eyes. His crown of gold perched atop his head gleamed with rubies and sapphires that sparkled even in the damp and misty light. Two knights stood at the hunters flanks, holding his arms as he was presented to the king. Another knight in bright silver stood armed with a long sword at the front of the dais where the king sat and when the yellow eyes of the king met that silver knight and he nodded, the knight strode forward as the other two holding the hunter shoved him down to his knees. The silver knight drew back his sword, aiming it right at the hunter's neck and hesitated at a sudden flash of light. The golden haired woman in the velvet emerald green dress appeared in front of the hunter, her arms set wide, screaming for them to stop. But the silver knight thrust his sword through her gut and she fell to her knees. Every face in the throne room was painted in shock and disbelief as the hunter pulled away from the guards and cradled the woman in his arms as her blood snaked its way through the divots of dried mortar and rock on the floor. He held her face and she reached to cup his cheek, smearing her blood there as he cried. She pulled the necklace from her neck and placed it in his hands as he kissed her forehead and her arm fell as the ragged rise and fall of her chest suddenly stopped.

The hunter began to scream. At first it was muffled but then like a sonic boom, it pierced through the waters that dampened the sound and split through my head like a crack of thunder.

I sat bolt upright, sweat dripping down my back as I gasped for air. Eyes blurry and swollen from tears, I blink as a few more fall from my eyes and two glowing blue orbs in the dark corner of my room stare straight at me. I shudder as I whisper, "Azazel?" into the blackness, but then the blue orbs are gone and I wonder if he was actually here all along.

"Hey I came as soon as I got your text, is everything okay?" Rachel bustles in from the rain, shaking off her umbrella and shrugging out of her jacket, hanging it on the coat rack by the door to dry.

"No, I think I'm dying." I say, sounding more dramatic than necessary. I'm not dying. In fact I'm fine, but I really need to ask Rachel about the tomfoolery of the other night and she is normally so busy throughout the week that if I don't feign mortal peril, it'll be at least a fortnight before I can actually talk to her.

"Oh my God, should I take you to the hospital?" Rachel says, her eyes wide as she picks back up the car keys that were just placed on the counter.

"Um, no. Not that kind of dying." I say as I settle onto my couch. She stands there staring at me for a minute and then purses her lips.

"You can't keep doing this, Cali. I have shit to get done." Rachel says, setting down her keys and finding a seat next to me on the couch.

"I know I'm sorry. You're just so busy."

"If you keep crying wolf, how am I to believe you when you actually have an emergency?"

I shrug. "You just have to keep falling for my shit. Problem solved."

She rolls her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I need you to tell me more about Azazel."

"Okay um," Rachel says, tucking her legs under her as she sits. "Well, I saw him while I was meditating and he just showed up in my apartment."

"Why?"

"I don't know. He said that he needed me to 'catalyze your transition' or something."

"My what?"

"He mentioned that you had these dormant abilities that can only be awakened by 'seeing.' He said it was really important for you and I kinda went along with it. It sounded kind of fun, even if it just fucked with you a little." Rachel laughs as she wrings her fingers through her damp blonde hair.

"Thanks Rach." I scoff. "What about the 'mine,' thing?"

Rachel looks down at her hands. "That…well it seems like there's a lot of history, but from what he told me, it seems like you and him connected a long time ago and made some kind of promise or vow and this timeline is it's last iteration to…be completed?"

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah I know it sounds confusing, but I think maybe you two might be,-" Rachel trails off, looking up to the wall as she thinks. She takes a breath and continues, "I think you two might be reincarnated and you're meant to find each other."

There's several long drawn out seconds of contemplative silence while I undoubtedly look dumbfounded at what Rachel just said.

"Reincarnation is not a thing though," I say snorting out a laugh. "Right?"

Rachel shrugs one of her shoulders. "I don't see why not. I've heard of children recounting the lives in precise intimate detail of long deceased people. It's freaky as hell but it's real."

"But he's not even human," I say, scratching my head.

"Maybe not." Rachel says, pulling her hair up in a messy bun off her shoulders.

"How does someone complete a vow? That doesn't make any sense." I say.

"I think that's something you should talk to him about." Rachel says and I scowl. I hate not knowing things and I especially hate cryptic shit. It's irritating and itchy and annoying. "Just call him and ask."

"Oh you mean hold my necklace and say his name, call him? Like a lunatic?"

"If that's the modality, yeah."

"I,-" I start, but Rachel interjects.

"Sometimes things don't make sense, Calliope. Just…try and go with it. Talk to him."

I huff out contrarily. I like facts, numbers, and proof. There's a structure with a beginning and a known end. Talking about magic and vows and reincarnation is…messy. It's chaotic and uncertain. It's not something I believe in unless it's in a plot line of one of my romantasy novels. Real life holds no space for such lofty and grandiose notions.

But here I am spinning out on exactly that. Scrambling around the inharmonious mess that is Azazel and how we took a wormhole to wherever he lives with his magically appearing furniture and alcoholic beverages, his glowing blue eyes, and that voice that sang to parts of me that woke up for the first time in my life.

"Calliope," Rachel pulls me back to the present. "I have to go back to work now. Are you gonna be okay?"

No. "Yeah, Rach. Thank you for coming." I say. Rachel takes my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze before she grabs her things and heads out the front door.

Normally after talking to Rachel, I feel like the world makes sense again. She always has some grounded perspective to anchor me to a more organized reality. This time however, I feel like I continue to drift and the only thing I could really do is dive headlong into the mess, and call Azazel.

A canopy of tall trees veils the sky in a kaleidoscope of green. Even in the murky rain-heavy clouds. I gaze at the sky from the mossy forest floor, peering through the tiny windows of branches to see the gray blue masses of a gathering storm travel on the wind. Loose strands of my hair fall over my face with the strong gusts and I can already smell the wet soil and bark as tiny droplets of rain kiss my cheeks.

"Calliope," a deep voice yells through the trees and I sit upright. I search through the tall stacks of trees, ferns, and brush. It's quiet again, apart from the gentle pattering of light rain on the leaves. Then it calls again and I stand and stride forward in the direction of the voice. His voice. I hear it again and it's strained and pleading. I begin to run, not knowing where I'm going but following the sensation. Like static electricity that increases the closer I get, following an invisible string that will lead me directly to him.

"Azazel?" I yell out into the gray, that spark building with each step.

"Calliope," he groans between the trees, closer now. Mere feet away, I can feel it. But the trees and brush are so thick I can hardly see. "Calliope, please."

"Azazel, I'm here." I push aside thick branches and leaves, the tension in that string, the power that emanates there is intensifying as I fight my way through. "Where are you?"

All I hear is a muffled groan as world ending, bottomless pit panic bolsters my efforts.

He's dying. He's dying. Oh God he's dying.

But the branches are too thick to break through and I scream his name as I frantically push and thrash through the thick branches, leaving open cuts and welts as I do.

Then there's silence. No birds, no wind, no rain as I finally break through and there's nothing. I begin screaming and even then, there's no sound.

Firm hands shake my shoulders and I open my eyes to two glowing electric blue irises staring back at me.

I'm drenched in sweat, my throat raw and my face wet with tears. My hands clutch the locket around my neck as I look into his eyes. I was dreaming. Before I can think, I throw my arms around his shoulders, pulling him close to me. "You're alive," I cry out, as more tears stream down my face. "I couldn't get to you in time."

"I'm right here," Azazel says, his hands gently rubbing along my back, swiping my damp hair. "It was just a dream."

"I don't think it was." I say, clutching him tighter.

"What do you mean?" He replies, pulling away from me and I grip his T-shirt in my fists at his shoulders, like that will keep him from escaping…or leaving…or dying.

"I-I think I'm remembering what happened between us." I say and I don't even get what I'm saying, but it's there all the same.

He sits facing me on the edge of my bed, his hands on my shoulders, still trying to sooth me. "Tell me."

But I can't. The words lodge themselves in my throat as he watches me, patiently waiting for me to say more and that static…that electricity begins to sparkle along my skin again, that cord that pulls me to him tugged hard and I thread my fingers through his dark hair. And he's letting me, leans into my hand even. I tentatively pull him closer and he yields. My eyes flick down to his mouth, two symmetrical full lips that part gently as they hover dangerously close to mine. I look back to his eyes, two blazing stars that dare me to move, to come closer, to take what's mine. He exhales softly and the warmth of his breath dances over my mouth, my core heats as I breathe him in.

"Calliope," he whispers and I carefully, cautiously swipe my lips over his, light and chaste, my thumbs brush over his cheekbone as I cup his face. He scoots closer to me, his fingers wrapping around the nape of my neck and the blaze of light from his eyes darkens as he looks down to my chest, my bare collarbones and finally on my mouth. "Again. Do that…again."

I exhale, the coil between my legs tightens as that need for pressure builds and I'm still hovering, my breath ghosting over his lips. Just as I lean in, catapulting myself over the edge he pulls away, standing to his feet, his eyes wide in surprise or shock, looking around the dark room.

"I'm sorry," I say softly, thinking I had completely messed up, crossed a boundary that I didn't realize was there but then he turns to the door where a hole appears like a gaping mouth and something is pulling him into it. I stand and reach for him, grabbing his wrists as he reaches back to me.

"What is that?" I scream as he is yanked hard, like an invisible rope dragging him back and he resists. He meets my eyes as he is forced to the edge of the hole.

His face settles, even though his eyes are uncertain. "Find me in the forest," he says and then he's jerked hard out of my grip and he disappears into the blackness, the hole closing up as he disappears.

I stand there gawking for several seconds, perseverating between shock, fear, anger, and still throbbing heat between my legs.

What do I do? How do I…I find my phone on my nightstand, dialing a number with shaking hands. Rachel answers with a groggy sleep heavy voice.

"I need your help."

"It's three am, Cali," she says hoarsely.

"He got pulled into a black hole and he said I need to find him in the woods."

"What?"

"Find me in the forest." His voice echoes through my head as I throw on a pair of jeans, and pull on a sweatshirt, toeing into my tennis shoes. "Rach, how do I do magic?"

Rachel sighs and there's a rustling of sheets and blankets on the other line. "Cali that's…a lot to unpack in the middle of the night."

"Please, Rachel. He's gonna die if I don't do something, I know it."

There's a pause and then she says, "are you wearing your locket?"

"Yeah of course."

Rachel clears her throat and says, "you're gonna need a flashlight."

I pull over onto the narrow dirt shoulder and park. The trees flank the road on either side and it looks ominous in the darkness as I turn on my flashlight. The beam of light pierces through the night as I begin to jog through the trees. The magic lesson I got from Rachel wasn't exactly comprehensive. I mean, how much can you actually learn in thirty minutes? I still feel like I'm going into this completely blind. But something Rachel said hit hard as I weave through the trees, navigating my way through the damp black on surprisingly sure feet.

"Trust your instincts, Cali."

It was like a key to something inside of me that waited to be opened and as I continue forward, feeling wave after wave of deja-vu, I let that sense guide me. I reach a cluster of trees and brush, tightly knit together like a barricade and I stop, gaping at it confused.

This isn't right. I think as I bunch my brows and shine my light over it. I've never been here, but somehow I know these trees don't belong here. I place my hands on the trunk of one of the trees and the words are there before I can think.

"Show me what's really here."

In those few quiet moments that nothing happens, doubt begins to sink its claws and teeth into my chest. I feel foolish and ridiculous as I stand waiting for something to change. But I think of the electric blue of his eyes, blazing through the darkness, shattering everything I knew to be real, defying all fact and logic. The doubt begins to shrink, talons and fangs recede back and I straighten my spine, gripping the bark of the tree as I command into the darkness, "show me what's really here."

The trees and brush begin to pull away, cleaving themselves apart and in between is a path forward to a clearing that I recognize. I swallow and walk through the opening, shining my flashlight on to the path as I go.

In the center of the clearing, surrounded by the forest is a dark figure with his back to me. He has dark hair, broad shoulders, hands together at his low back and he looks up at the night sky. The cord grows taut, electricity sizzles to life as I make my way to him. I yell out his name but he doesn't turn and when I get closer I see his arms straining, his neck and back tense, like he's fighting against something holding him there. The light of the moon peeks through the canopy of trees making it easier to see as I approach him. He is hovering in the air, barely touching the ground as his toes scrape the dirt of the forest floor as he struggles to breathe.

I frantically try to pull him down, pulling against whatever is forcing him up and binding him. I feel tears begin to well in my eyes as I look around for anything, muttering, "what do I do?"

Footsteps sound from behind me and I whip around. A man I've never seen before with short blond hair, brown eyes, and long lean limbs walks towards us. The white of his collared shirt gleams in the moonlight as his hands slide into the pockets of his navy slacks. His face is handsome but smug as he steps closer.

"Hello Calliope," he says and his voice is similar to Azazel's: deep, resonant, and other worldly but also steeped in something dark and malicious.

"Who are you?" I choke out, stepping between him and Azazel.

He clicks his tongue. "Well that just hurts my feelings," he croons. He steps closer to me and blinks, his eyes flashing to a glowing bright yellow.

The king. The king from my dream. "What do you want?" I say, twitching as I hear Azazel struggling behind me. The king chuckles as he looks up to Azazel.

"Come now Calliope. After all these centuries, is it really prudent to play games?"

What do I have that he wants? I have nothing. I'm nobody. "I-I have a Starbucks card or-or a coupon to Target," I stammer out and he hisses. Azazel's body tenses behind me and I begin to tremble.

"You know what I want and I am done chasing you two around for it. Give it to me and I will make both your deaths swift."

"I don't have a lot of money b-but I could,"

"Enough," he shouts and he lunges forward. I hold up my arms to protect myself, I close my eyes waiting for the pain to start, but then nothing happens. I look up through my arms and he's frozen. Suspended mid stride, his face contorted in rage but still as a statue. There's a loud gasp and thump behind me as I turn to see Azazel slumped in the dirt, heaving large gulps of air as he braces himself.

I run over, fall to my knees in front of him, and cup his face in my hands. He has bruises over his eyes, and his lip is split. "Are you alright?" I say, willing away the prickle of tears behind my eyes.

He blinks up at me, the electric blue of his eyes slowly flickering back to life. "He wants the locket." He scans down to my necklace and it's glowing the same bright blue as Azazel's eyes.

"Why?" I ask.

Azazel shakes his head. "He wants power. If he takes it everyone will suffer, on your Earth and on mine."

My hands drop to my thighs as I peek up at the frozen king mid strike. What do I do? The locket surges with light and the king blinks as I stand. I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I'm just…a person. I don't know magic, or how to open wormholes…how was I going to defeat a king? Azazel stands next to me, his hand finds my low back as he whispers in my ear.

"Remember who you are, Calliope."

I would have asked who I am. I would have tried to say something funny because it's what I do so I don't feel so scared. I would have chalked this all up to being insane and needing mental help, but I can't do it.

I won't do it.

I ball my fists as I let Azazel's deep sultry voice slip into my bloodstream, his words set deep inside the gray matter of my mind, weaving themselves into the thick layers of my bones, the labyrinth of my firing nerves. My necklace flashes again and the king stumbles forward. His face snaps to mine and then he lunges for me again. This time, instead of cowering I let him come, my memory fusing with my spine, the power of it reinforcing my resolve as it surges forward through the curves of my fingertips and wraps around the king's throat. He is hoisted mid-air and I walk forward with him and then yank him down hard making his body collide with the stony Earth below. The thud of his body hitting the ground resonates through the quiet forest but he does not stay down for long. The king pops up and my arms are suddenly bound behind my back, my neck contorted back to the sky and I feel my feet thrash as they leave the ground. I hear Azazel fighting the binds next to me as the king laughs.

"You remembered some of your tricks, little witch," he chuckles, "good for you."

I try to scream as my heart rate sky-rockets, but my windpipe is pinched so tight that I have to focus to breathe. I sip the air in tiny little mouth fulls trying to get in what I can to survive.

"Here's what's going to happen now. I'm going to kill you both and then I'll take the necklace off your cold dead corpse." I float higher into the air and I yank against the invisible ties around my wrists. I close my eyes.

This is how I die. I always thought I'd probably go out in some predictable way. Like a car accident or something. Death by reincarnated evil king was not on my bingo card. If I had a choice, I'd want to die old, having lived an amazing full life. Who wouldn't want that? I don't want this power hungry narcissist to take that away from me. Why should he get to choose how I live and die? Why should he get to choose for Azazel? Especially when Azazel and I clearly have something special and I want to know where that goes.

No.

NO.

Absolutely-fucking not. This is not how my story ends. This is not how our story ends. Not again, anyway.

The thought is like kerosine on an ember and I open my eyes. I imagine it in my mind first, willing it to come. Then purple storm clouds blanket the night sky, veiling the moonlight, the wind a violent beast that whips my hair around my body. The guttural roar of thunder shakes the trees and rocks below and the king yells into the torrential downpour of rain.

"Inclement weather, Calliope? That's all you can muster?" The king screams into the still building storm.

I focus on a point in the middle of the deep bruise colored clouds, putting every ounce of my heart and soul into a single spot, whispering a silent command. Then like an answered prayer, a thick bolt of lightning tears through the night from that point in the sky like the finger of God touching down on the clearing where the king stood. I drop to the ground with a resounding thump and my entire body feels heavy, my limbs leaden as I try to sit up. The wind and rain cease, the clouds creep away from the sky as moonlight once again spills over the forest. I look over to where the king was and see nothing but black charred Earth, still smoking from where the lightning struck.

I hear a groan behind me and turn to see Azazel on the floor, slowly moving his limbs. I crawl over to him, dragging my resistant body over to where he lay.

"Calliope?" he says as I drag myself closer.

"Here," I say weakly. He turns and his eyes glow in the moonlight. He's okay. I did it. I think as my limbs grow even heavier and I can't crawl anymore. I hear shuffling and murmuring before I close my eyes and succumb to the darkness.

"I vow to be yours. You are mine. My own heart. My equal in every way. I love you in this life and in every life forever."

My eyes open and the evening sunshine gleams amber light across my bedroom window. I sit up. I'm in a camisole and panties…in my bed…in my condo. I clutch the necklace around my neck and then exhale. Then I notice the hand that rests heavily on my belly. I turn and see Azazel sleeping on his stomach, his arm outstretched to me and still fully clothed. I lay back and put the heels of my hands over my eyes, rubbing away the foggy sleep that lingered. His fingers flex over my stomach and I look to see his bright electric eyes staring at me.

"Are you alright?" he asks and somehow his voice is even deeper when he wakes, rattling my cells to attention as I turn towards him on my side, his arm now draped over my waist.

"Did all that actually happen last night?" I say, wondering for a moment if it was all a dream. A nightmare. He nods softly, his eyes scanning my face. I reach out and touch his cheek, swiping my thumb over the prominent bone. "Is it over?"

Azazel inhales and then whispers, "I'm not sure."

I thread my fingers through his hair, unkempt from sleep. I feel him trace lazy circles on my low back. I imagine that same hand drifting lower, dipping between my legs and my cheeks flush as my core flashes with heat. My nipples tighten in my camisole. His eyes flick down to my mouth as my lips part, like a silent prayer and a fervent request. He scoots forward and brushes his nose against mine, his warmth making my heart thud in my chest.

"Do you know how long I've waited for you?" he asks softly. I can feel the vibration of his voice on my lips as he speaks.

"Well, I don't think I slept longer than five or six hours,-" I say and his lips stretch into a wide smile as he chuckles.

"A bit longer than that," he says, his hand over my waist, now flat on my low back, dangerously close to the mound of my backside. "Human soul's have many iterations because their lifespans are so short, whereas mine are much longer and less frequent. People like me, our soul's memory is much more intact because of it."

This time when the topic of reincarnation comes up, I listen with a much wider view, unsullied by my limitations of what is real and unreal. At this point, anything is real and anything is possible. And the way that Azazel is looking at me right now? I remember that look. I've seen it before, a long long time ago. He looked different then, but the way that he made me feel, the way that he makes me feel now…has never changed.

I run my tongue along my teeth as I let my hand drift from his cheek down his neck, his chest, his stomach…

"Do you remember this?" I rasp and he shudders as I palm his length over his jeans. I suck in a breath at his size as I stroke my hand over him. His jaw clenches as he groans.

"Yes," Azazel hisses, his fingers flexing around my waist.

"And what about this?" I say, taking his lower lip between my teeth, his eyes flash to a violet purple and I gasp as he growls and claims my mouth, climbing over me and pushing my legs apart with his knees. His tongue swipes languidly through my mouth as he palms over my breasts. He places wet kisses down my neck, taking my nipple into his mouth over my camisole and I fist his hair as I arch my back into him.

"I remember." He answers against the skin of my stomach, dragging his lips and tongue between my hips, biting the soft skin of my inner thigh. I look down at him, his hand splays out on my stomach, his eyes burning a bright amethyst as he kisses the throbbing area between my legs. I sigh and buck my hips but he holds me still, his free hand prying my panties to the side. "But this, Calliope?" he says, taking a long lick from my center to that aching apex. I cry out, gripping the headboard hard. "Your taste?" He tears my panties off of me and I gasp.

"Hey I liked those," I laugh but then his mouth is on me again and I close my eyes as I grind into his mouth. He places a finger in his mouth and then presses it into me and I grip the wood of my headboard so hard, I can feel the wood splintering.

"Gods, I'd die a thousand times just to taste you," he says against my skin as his tongue flicks over my aching bud. I was so close now. My hips moving against his warm mouth, his fingers pumping me closer to that edge…that abyss of pure unbridled ecstasy. He closes his mouth over my clit and sucks and I careen with a cry over the edge, crashing into thousands of tiny pieces, my back arching like a bow as I fly out of my body. He continues to move his fingers, his tongue over me as I come back into my body, looking down at his now mischievous electric eyes. I sit up and grab his shirt, pulling him to my mouth, tasting the subtle tang of my climax on his wet mouth and tongue. I unbutton his jeans, as he pulls his T-shirt off over his head, rumpling his hair even more. He hovers over me again, his forearms on either side of my head as he ground his expansive hard length still sheathed in his boxer-briefs over my soaking wet core.

"I remember," he whispers against my mouth, "how much I loved how wet you would be." He slid his boxers down and I wrap my legs around his waist. "I remember,-" he groans as he pushes the tip of himself through my entrance. "How tight you were. Your heat, gripping me like a fist." I moan as I run my fingernails down his back as he slowly pushes inside. I clench my teeth as he fills and stretches me as he pushes in further, seating himself to the hilt.

And oh my God. Oh my fucking God it's good.

He retracts his hips and the slide of him touches everything inside of me, he kisses my neck as he presses into me again and I roll my hips getting more of that delicious slide. A new abyss opens up for me, so delectably close as he increases his pace. His low pants catapulting me towards the maw of the void.

"I remember," I moan as he runs his teeth along my shoulder, gripping the mound of my backside in his strong hands as his hips begin to move faster, until he is pistoning into me and it's too much. My thoughts are scattered as I swan dive into the depths, screaming out my climax as he strokes through to find his own, biting down onto my shoulder as he does. Every part of me feels like a live wire, crackling and sparking with electric light, formidable with power and completely alive. We are both breathing heavily, our chest fuse together as I grip his hair.

"What do you remember?" He asks softly against the skin of my neck, leaving soft kisses there as he travels up to my mouth.

"I remember," I say, trying not to let go of the heady courage that was still effervescing through my veins and dancing on the surface of my body. His glowing deep purple eyes meet mine as I say, "loving you. I remember loving you, Azazel."

I thought saying it out loud would be scary. Too vulnerable of a statement to make to someone you only just met. But I've known him for hundreds of years. Loved him for all of them even if I didn't know him. He was mine. He was always mine.

His eyes were intense, determined, and focused as he lifted me and pulled me onto his lap, my legs straddling him. He was still hard inside of me as I began to roll my hips against him, resting my forehead to his as he says, "I remember loving you too, Calliope." He kisses me gently as he stares up into my hooded eyes. "I never stopped."