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‘Living on borrowed time.’ Yeah, never thought that would apply to me. - Dahlia
Judgment
After millennia, finally, fucking finally, Judgment discovered the key to bringing his brothers to heel. It was nothing he would ever have expected, considering how jaded and resentful Justice and Punishment were. But here they were in a bar on the outskirts of Dallas, a city hotter than hell in August, riveted by a woman in what appeared to be a rather unpleasant argument.
Oh, how the mighty had fallen, to be so infatuated with a human they practically drooled, even as they seemed to lean toward her.
She was beautiful, like a goddess of old with her tall, slender body and midnight hair against alabaster skin. Not his type, but beautiful. Actually, now that he thought about it, not their type either. Yet they gravitated toward her as if pulled on an invisible string.
“Seth. Long time no see,” a sweet voice said from behind him. At first, he didn’t want to turn, he knew exactly who was there. Life was unpredictable with her around, definitely on the less enjoyable side. Of course, she would be here when he finally cornered his brothers.
“Karmen,” he sighed, pulling his long blond braid over his shoulder. None of the humans could see it, but it was always there.
She settled alongside him, studying the scene before them with an objective eye.
“Do Tarus and Zhan know you’re here?”
Hell no. It was no secret those bastards split off more than a few thousand years before, and for what? Because they were too tired, they didn't feel like anything they did mattered in the grand scheme of things. So fucking what? Their job wasn’t to analyze the effects of their grace, but to follow the goddamned rules. They failed.
And they kept failing.
Where did that leave Judgment? To clean up every mess they created by not using their grace where and when they should have. Each time he swept behind them, he grew a little more bitter, a little angrier. Justice and Punishment were integral to the world the Keepers had created.
It was past time for them to learn a lesson. Judgment was more than willing to deliver it, but finding something that would put a dent in their emotional armor eluded him. His was the task of rendering judgment, but he’d lacked the right punishment until now. The means by which to deliver the justice due them. No, the irony hadn’t been lost on him. By ignoring their duty, they had neutered him.
Until tonight.
Did they know he was here? He very much doubted they knew where they were at this point.
“You know the answer to that,” he growled, not willing to waste time in useless conversations.
Karmen patted him on the shoulder. “Then I won’t share your secret. But the object of their affection looks like she needs some help.” The crowd swallowed her up as she glided toward the bar.
As soon as she left him, she was forgotten, his attention returning to his brothers. The man accompanying the woman shook her so hard, Judgment winced from the whiplash. Her shoulders bunched up to her ears as she grimaced and held her head as far away from him as she could while still in his clutches. She dug her fingers into his forearms as her lips moved rapidly, but in profile, he couldn’t make out the words. Judgment edged closer, curious to hear what their argument was about, and more importantly, why Justice and Punishment were so enthralled.
“Is this fucking funny to you, Dahlia?” the man yelled, utterly unconcerned about the fact their dispute attracted an audience both human and very much not.
For her part, Dahlia—he turned the name over, testing the different nuances of each syllable—met the man’s furious gaze steadily, even if her lips twitched with what Judgment suspected was a nervous smile.
“No, of course not,” she said, tugging at her arm in a vain attempt to pull away. Vain because the man white-knuckled his grip, and the red marks already forming promised bruises. “Alex, it was a stupid comment.”
“Oh, of course it was,” Alex sneered. “Everything is a joke. I tell you they’re threatening to can me, and all you can say is ‘it’s not a big deal, you know how they are’? This is serious, and you’re acting like I’m the one overreacting. You know I fucking hate it when you try to belittle me that way.”
Well, Judgment considered, while it could mean exactly what she said, it definitely meant Alex here was a dick. He leaned in closer to her, his voice coming out in a rough whisper-shout, clearly audible to the other patrons. Clearly, because the cowards edged away, darting looks like most humans did when tragedy unfolded around them and they had to gawk like spectators.
“Alex,” Dahlia said his name in a soft rasp, the echo of tears coating her voice but no recrimination. Shock rippled through Judgment. What she offered was not rebuke but comfort. Instead of pulling away, she pushed in and spread her hand against the man’s chest. “I’m sorry. I wanted to make it better, and I made it worse.”
“Fucking right, you made it worse. I’m not some shit loser you scrape off your expensive shoes.” A little bit of spit jumped from his lips as he spoke and struck her cheek. The absolute lack of reaction on her part puzzled Judgment.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, rubbing a slow circle with her palm. The man’s agitation seemed to diminish, but that was an act. His eyes remained hostile and heated, his grip fierce, and no mistaking the faint grind of his teeth. “Seriously, Baby. What they’re doing sucks. They would be absolute jackasses to let you go.”
“Except, they’re probably joking with me, right? Having a laugh at my expense,” he snapped, then released her abruptly. If Judgment hadn’t been studying them so closely, he might have missed her wince. The breath she released wasn’t one of relief.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, her voice pitched even lower. With each passing moment, she diminished herself. Her shoulders pulled in a little tighter, her chin went down, her eyes dipped. The fierce candle guttered in the gale, but it didn’t go out. No, her actions were a choice. The worthless piece of shit in front of her didn’t deserve the woman struggling against the dark rage consuming her… Hmm, he wouldn’t use the word partner.
“You will be,” the worthless piece of shit muttered, but the lack of reaction from Dahlia suggested she hadn’t heard the words.
Judgment’s brothers had.
They stared at the pair of them. Justice’s grayish-brown eyes grew more morose by the moment. Punishment, on the other hand, began to toy with a coin, fidgeting with it across his palm and then making it dance over his knuckles. The very contained action offered the first suggestion Judgment had seen of his brother’s true self in countless years. For the first time in millennia, Judgment could see their desire to intervene, to do what their grace demanded, but they didn’t act on it.
Dahlia folded her arms, hugged herself more, rubbing her palms against her biceps. The fierce red flush of the marks Alex had left on her biceps stained her pale skin like blood on snow.
“Let’s go,” Alex snapped as he tossed a couple of bills on the table. She didn’t argue, even if her drink had barely been touched. Snagging her purse, she hesitated for one, endless moment. Her gaze not on Alex, or even on Judgment’s irritatingly useless siblings, but on another man seated at the bar. A man she gave a swift, negative head shake to and then a faint tremulous smile.