Wed to the Wild God (Aspect and Anchor)

He leans against the window, and as he does, a new bird shows up. A pigeon. He reaches out and strokes it idly with a hand, and the bird just lets him. It hops onto his knee, into my apartment, and coos as he pets it. "Your world does not have Anticipations, does it?"

"What do you mean, my world?" I feel like I'm shrieking into a void. I keep asking questions and he swears he'll answer and yet I'm getting nowhere. "Are you trying to tell me you're not from my world?"

Kassam grins. "That is exactly what I am telling you."

I stare at him.

Then, I snort. "Bullshit."

"No shit at all," he says in that same calm, easy voice. "It is truth. Somehow when the sword was pulled from my guts, the Spidae saw fit to send me to your world instead of to return me to my own. Perhaps there is a lesson here I am meant to learn, or it is for my safety. Either way, here I am." He shrugs. "I am helpless and alone…except for you."

"Me?" I protest. "Why me?"

"Because you took my hand." He holds his out to me. "The moment we touched, we were bonded."

"Again, I have to call bullshit."

"Did you not feel something special the first time we touched?" He arches a thick brow at me.

I clench my jaw, determined not to blush. I spontaneously orgasmed, and I suspect he knows it. Did I feel something special? Oh, I felt a whole lot of special. "You did something to me," I accuse. I know I'm being shrill and demanding but I'm just so damned confused. All I want are a few answers. I don't think it's that hard.

"Of course I did. I bonded us when we touched. It is how I am able to stay in your world."

"What do you mean, bonded us?"

He holds his hand out to me, indicating I should take it. "It means that we are together, you and I. You are my anchor in this reality, and in this mortal realm. Otherwise, as a god, I will not be able to remain. We are bonded until I return to my divine home."

I stare at him. So much for simple answers. "I'm sorry, did you say you were a god?"

Kassam inclines his head. "I am."

"I don't believe you."

He laughs. "You are so suspicious. Do your people not believe in the gods anymore?"

"There's only one god!" Not that I'm all that religious, but we mostly agree that there's just one god. I think. "And you ain't him, buddy."

Kassam laughs even harder. The pigeon jumps on his shoulder and nuzzles at his ear, and for a split second, I'm jealous of the pigeon. Clearly I'm insane. Clearly. "No, if you refer to the High Father, I am most definitely not him. I am one of his naughty, naughty sons." The look he gives me is positively wicked. "Some naughtier than others."

"Again, I'm going to have to go with bullshit."

"Take my hand, then. My powers are muted here—"

"Oh, naturally." I roll my eyes. "Of course your powers are muted here."

"—but I can show you a few small things at least." He gets to his feet, pigeon friend still on his shoulder. As I watch, another one flies into my window, looking for him. Did he smear peanut butter on the landing or something? Is that why there's a bird invasion?

I eye the hand Kassam holds out to me. "Dude, you just petted a pigeon. They are hella diseased. I'm not touching you."

"A god cannot get diseases." He thinks for a moment. "Unless you are Kalos of course. Which I am not. If I wash my hands, will you touch me then and let me prove this to you?"

I eye him warily. "Get your birds out of here, too. They don't belong inside."

He nods once, and to my surprise, the birds fly back out the window. Kassam never said a word. Just a coincidence, I tell myself. Nothing more.

Something's definitely wrong with this guy.

5

I desperately need a cup of coffee, and since Kassam has helped himself to all of my grounds (seriously, what the fuck), we head out the door and down to the coffee shop on the corner. It's a place I normally frequent, usually isn't all that busy, and tends to turn a blind eye when I show up in sweatpants and with terrible hair.

Usually.

Today…things are weird. We walk a whole block—far too little for me to bother driving—and by the time we get to the coffee shop, there are people following us. Kassam is barefoot, wearing an old boyfriend's clothing, his long, tangled hair fluttering in the morning breeze, and he looks as if he's thoroughly enjoying himself. He also seems to be oblivious to the crowd we're gathering. People cross the street to stand near him. Random pedestrians follow behind us.