Sinners and Saints

Sinners and Saints Chapter 33 - Who's Gonna' Save Your Soul?

“Drake,” I try to stop him again.  This is beyond “I love you” intimate.  This is really, really taboo-intimate. 

And I am scared for him. 

And – if I’m honest – scared for myself.  Because this “I love you” thing is still not fully-processed in my head, even though my heart has it under control.  Maybe.  Sort-of. 

“Please, Claire,” he pulls his hand down, “I want to do this.” 

“All right,” I turn myself around and get under the covers.  If I’m going to get a bedtime story, I might as well go whole-hog.  Drake gives me a relieved smile and I pat the bed next to me, inviting him to cuddle. 

He climbs in and wraps his arms around me.  I snuggle against his chest and listen to his heart beating and his slow breathing as he gathers his thoughts. 

“I lived in a small but prosperous village along a trade route in what would now be considered Jordan.  My father was an innkeeper and all of the caravans stopped there on their ways to and fro.  I had twin brother – Nabal – who was destined to take our father’s place when he died.  He was born two minutes ahead of me, but primogeniture was the law.  This was very, very far back in the day, Claire,” he sighs and strokes my hand, “And even though it’s changed now – auguries were cast when a child was born back then.” 

“Like animal guts?” I wrinkle my nose. 

“Yes,” he chuckles, “My brother was born to have a blessed life.  First-born, he would inherit everything – of course.  But even beyond that, he had God’s blessing on him.  I – however – didn’t,” he stops and gives a rueful smile. 

“You believe that crap?” I ask him. 

“My parents did.  My village did,” he gives a sad look, “I was destined to do a great evil.” 

I frown and kiss his forehead, “You really don’t have to tell me,” I whisper, trailing my hand down to his nude chest in hopes of distracting him.  

“I do, angel,” he pulls my hand up and gives me a soft kiss, “You deserve to know the truth.  So because of our prophesies, Nabal could do no wrong.  He was the golden child.  And no matter how hard I tried – how good I was – everyone kept holding their breath for the day that I would unleash my evil on our village. 

“I thought if I was devout – if I served God and never went against Him, I might be able to change my destiny.  I went to temple every day.  I prayed.  I kept all of the Sabbats.  My brother, however, wasn’t nearly as pure as I was.  He was never interested in girls, but I knew about his very clandestine ways with some of the travelers who stayed at our inn.  I never told anyone – he would have been sentenced to death.  But I begged him to stop and I prayed for him constantly.  I studied the Torah every chance I got – both to help him and to find some way to lift the curse I was under.  I wanted to be a Rabbi.” 

“Wait – you’re Jewish?” I ask him. 

He chuckles and bends his head down to whisper in my ear, “I told you I’m always in my true form when I’m around you.  Bris-proof  and all.  I don’t remember you complaining.” 

“Get back to your story,” I blush, which makes him chuckle deeper. 

“I had been in love with the daughter of our Rabbi ever since I could remember and often asked my father – when we were of age – if he would negotiate our marriage.  Back then, marriages were arranged for social and financial gain and love was rarely a factor.  My father always told me he would see what he could do, but when the time came, the Rabbi thought his Lydia was too valuable to be given to a doomed man.  Instead, she was married to my brother.