“Fresh strawberries, and whipped cream they make when you order.”
God. He knew her too well. It wasn’t fair. Their waitress took their orders almost right away, then left them in silence.
Michael finally spoke. “I’m not acting out of some misplaced notion of vengeance. My orders came from above.”
Orders. She smirked but felt no amusement. “We both know it doesn’t work that way. You were given a vague directive and left to your own devices, to figure out how to accomplish it.”
“During the battle with Ariel, He gave me the knowledge I needed to destroy her. It wasn’t something I figured out on my own.”
For the most part, how agents chose to do their jobs was open to interpretation—He was more of a hands-off kind of manager, as long as the job got done. There wasn’t a lot of guesswork involved in something like showing an angel how to kill in the middle of a fight with one of their own. It didn’t make Ronnie like it any more, though. Had they all fallen so far, sunk so low, that destroying angels and demons was the only answer?
“Regardless, that’s your goal, not mine. I’d rather do this without any loss of life if at all possible,” she said.
“I would, too. And when I think I can get away with it, I do.” He worked his jaw up and down, then gritted his teeth. “Why are you here?”
“I told you. To pay my respects.”
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
He wanted to know why she didn’t leave. Why she joined him for lunch. Was it that she missed him? That was a strong part of it, but not everything. “When I asked you the other day to come back to Ubiquity? I was wrong.” She hadn’t realized she felt that way until the words spilled out. “The last thing Ubiquity needs is for you to step in like last time, long enough to make a mess and dump it on someone else.”
He raised his brows. “I didn’t make a mess last time. I happened to be there as everything was falling apart.”
This wasn’t going right. Her thoughts were fragmented. Part of her wanted to scream and yell and blame him. The rest knew he was the least of her concerns, and unlike some of the other agents, he was reasonable and honest. “You’re right. I’m sorry. To tell the truth, I think you’re smart to keep your distance.”
“But you’re staying there.”
She shrugged. “They have the information I need. They have what you need, too. And you know it.”
“It’s true.”
“I’ll share what I find with you, if you can stand to see me on a regular basis.” Was that what she was doing? Finding a way to worm herself back into his life? Yes. Maybe he’d see her anyway, but too many old friends had turned away from her. She wasn’t too proud to admit she’d use excuses to see him until she could figure out where they stood. Besides, her hands were tied at Ubiquity, and while she didn’t like his methods, Michael had enough freedom to get things done.
“You know that’s not why I left—my not being able to stand you.”
The confession kneaded away invisible knots in her neck and shoulders. “I still like to hear it.”
She didn’t agree with his actual reason for going, even after all this time. She loved her immortality. Couldn’t see surrendering this life for anything. Sure, the work got tedious and the bullshit flowed thick on occasion, but overall she wanted to be here. Her memories from Metatron’s life, combined with her experiences as Uriel and what Michael told her, filled in his reasons. He walked too close to the edge of humanity, only resisting the urge to fall, because the infrastructure needed him. Given the right reason—which supposedly included loving her—he’d surrender it all for a chance to experience a short, mortal life, burn hot and fast, and flash out of existence in a century or so.
“Why would you share company information with me?” he asked.
“I think you’re right to do this on your own. I can’t leave Ubiquity, for the same reasons you can’t let yourself fall. The structure will crumble.”
He gave a sad laugh. “I’m sorry you have to make that choice.”
“I’m not sorry. I mean, I don’t like that there aren’t a lot of options, but I’m the one making the decision, instead of having someone else make it for me.”
“There is that.”
Their lunch arrived, and her mouth watered at the sight. It looked as good as he’d promised. A bite proved it tasted even better. They ate in silence for a few minutes, and she glanced at her phone out of habit.
“Do they expect you back at the office soon?” He sounded disappointed.
She nodded. “But I’m free tonight.” That probably wasn’t why he asked. What was she doing?
“Then it’s a date.” For the first time this afternoon, his smile looked genuine.
She didn’t know if she was thrilled or terrified. A little of both. Last time they went down this road, they got close enough she felt something for him, but didn’t know what. That was before she merged with Metatron. Before her memories of shopping in foreign markets eons before the Middle East knew its current incarnation. He never forgot fresh fruit was her favorite, even though it was difficult to get in that part of the world. She didn’t know if she could walk away if she started spending time with him.
Oh, hell, who am I kidding? She already couldn’t walk away.
Chapter Seventeen
Irdu watched the expressions flash across Ronnie’s face. A flicker of a smile. A ghost of a frown. The twist of her lips. None of her reactions corresponded to what he was saying.
They were having an actual meeting that probably wouldn’t end with sex on the desk. Not that he didn’t want it to. But he was working with her to figure out why rouge angels and demons were slipping through their searches, and it was a priority. Then he had plans tonight, and so did she, but not in the same place.
There was a splash of jealousy when she’d told him she was seeing Michael. Irdu was reconciling it, though. He’d known for months it was going to happen. He was more okay with it than he expected to me.
She smiled then frowned again, just as he was explaining the intricacies of the cherub algorithm and why it was failing to find Gabe’s people.
“You’re completely not here, are you?” Irdu teased. “Fantasizing about your hot date, perhaps?”
She met his gaze, looking sheepish. “I’m sorry. What?”
“They’re old agents.” He’d try to stay away from the technical details. “Some of them have been around almost as long as humanity. They know how to hide.”
“Everyone has tells. They must, as well.”
“Like your crowd fetish?” He mentally winced. That wasn’t how he wanted to broach this subject.
Pink dotted her cheeks. “It’s not a fetish.”
He’d brought it up. Time to get this out of the way. He didn’t want it to feel like an attack, though. He could tie it back to the conversation, and make two points at once. “Do you remember working the queue? How many false positives we got? Leads who had done shit-tons of something? Bought hundreds of pounds of candy? Porn DVDs. Stuff like that?”
They used search engine data to track cherubs by finding people who looked for a lot of anything. A cherub had an intense lust to experience everything physical, and that meant they tended to form addictions to everything from sweets to sex to jewelry. It also meant false positives came from people just price shopping, looking for gifts, or bored at work.
She nodded. “Of course.” Some of the tension faded from her posture. “But we also have the tech that returns more specific results. Pegged those targets who weren’t as obvious. Why doesn’t it pick these up?”
“It does, but this requires the computer to tell the difference between a cherub-laden agent, and someone who drinks coffee for each meal because they enjoy it. Or if you prefer, an angel who gets off on rubbing wings with geeks, and a geek who gets off on it.” He hoped she’d get it.
“Right. I’m the example. Fair enough.” She let out a long breath. “Except unlike your standard mortal user, my p
ings come from all over the world.”
“And if you were in the system, you’d trigger our flags on a regular basis. Your activity is exactly the kind of thing the algorithms look for.”
“Oh. I’m not that bad. Am I?”
Irdu didn’t want to make accusations. This was to help her, not push her away. “I’m not exaggerating. And I worry about you. You know how to deal with the impulses, and it’s like some days you stop trying. I don’t know what you’re looking for.”
“I don’t either. It’s like... I don’t know what it’s like.”
“You spend a lot of time in Las Vegas.” He kept his voice kind. “Why there?”
“Everyone feels everything there. So much of it.” She stared at her hands. “And none of it is mine. I don’t have to try to sort through it. I don’t have to pretend that feelings from two separate sources both belong to me, and at the same time, that between the two of them, I don’t feel whole.”
And it clicked. She was still fighting having both Metatron and Uriel in her head. He knew a lot about that, since the cherub that found him so long ago already had its own personality. Unlike so many out there.
His integration hadn’t been as rough as Ronnie’s, but it wasn’t easy. He moved to her side of the desk, and took her hands. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
“Don’t I? Do you want me to call you because I’m missing Michael? Because I’m sulking about whether or not people respect me at work? And what if you don’t answer?”
He crouched, putting himself at eye-level, and kissed her knuckles. “Then tell me where you’re going, and I’ll meet you there. Or send me a text that says SOS and I’ll find you.”
She hesitated. “I’ll try.”
“That’s fair.” He leaned in and brushed his lips over hers.
She pressed in, deepening the kiss. When they broke apart, he nipped at her bottom lip. Most of the lines had faded from her forehead.
“So, why aren’t these agents hitting your algorithms the way I do?” Her voice was clear and all-business again, but the edge was gone.
He rocked back onto his heels, not letting go of her hand. “Most of them call someplace home and stay there. We don’t see movement until it’s too late, and there hasn’t been enough big stuff for us to base algorithms on. The new disasters in Fiji and Perth will help.”
“Except we can’t keep waiting for things to blow up in order to gather information. There has to be a pattern. Something we can track before the mass destruction happens.”
“There is. We simply have to find it. We’ve got the code from Gabriel’s outsource group—the stuff we had access to before he... left.” It seemed like a bad time to say before he tried to kill you again, and you made him temporarily impotent. “But they never gave us everything.”
“I know. I just want...”
To stop celestial agents from destroying the world which they existed to nurture. It sounded simple and impossible at the same time. “I do, too.”
Someone knocked, and Irdu’s office door swung open. Tia poked her head in. “Are you ready to go, Irdu?” She trailed off when her gaze landed on Ronnie. “I thought you were done. Sorry.”
“Is it that late?” Ronnie glanced at her phone. “I didn’t mean to keep you. We’ll pick back up on Monday.”
“Come with us,” Irdu said.
She wasn’t meeting Michael for a couple of hours, and Irdu wanted to spend some more time with her.
“Oh, do. It’s so much fun.” Tia pushed the door open wider and looked at Ronnie. “I know you elite-types don’t associate with us plebes, but you used to be one of us.” Her tone was playful.
Ronnie shook her head, but she didn’t look certain. “I can’t intrude. And I have plans.”
“Later, but not now. We’re going to PigSkins,” Irdu said. He and Tia used to do this all the time. It had been a while, and Ronnie hadn’t been introduced to the experience yet.
“We order bottomless chips and salsa, and make our way down the menu of froofy drinks.” Tia crossed the room and grabbed Ronnie’s other hand. “You have to come with.”
“You do remember we’re incapable of getting drunk.” Ronnie looked between them.
“It’s like caffeine or sugar,” Irdu said. “The effects are in your head. It’s about the experience. Besides, the drinks taste good.”
“So go with us.” Tia tugged Ronnie her to her feet.
“All right. Let me tell Michael where to find me.” Ronnie jabbed at her phone, dropped it in her purse, and looked at Irdu. “Lead the way.”
An hour and a half later, the cocktail tasting was well underway as Irdu, Ronnie, and Tia sat at a table near the bar, laughing.
Ronnie grimaced as she downed her latest drink. “Definitely not.” She coughed. “Lemon, mint, and chocolate aren’t meant to go together. Eww.”
“Acquired taste.” Tia plucked the cherry from her appletini, and sucked it from the stem. Her laughter faded, and she kicked Irdu under the table. She nodded behind him and Ronnie.
He glanced over his shoulder at the same time Ronnie twisted in her seat.
Michael stood near the entrance, scanning the room.
That light clench of jealousy was back. Irdu tried to push it aside, but it was persistent. He was okay with this, it would just take some time to convince his heart.
Michael’s gaze landed on them, and he headed in their direction with a smile.
Irdu turned away to see Tia’s screwed up face.
“Isn’t he super boring?” she whispered. “I hear he’s all pious and shit.”
Irdu couldn’t see Ronnie putting up with that.
“I promise, he’s not.” Ronnie was fighting a smile. “Maybe a little. But not a lot.”
“Not a lot of what?” Michael stopped next to the table.
“Nothing.” Tia stood.
Irdu tossed a few bills on the table and slid from the bench. He bent at the waist, knotted his fingers in Ronnie’s hair, and claimed her mouth. Lemon and chocolate still lingered on her lips when he traced his tongue along the seam.
He broke away. “Call me.”
Okay, so there was nothing subtle about that. He didn’t care. Michael needed to know Irdu wasn’t going anywhere.
RONNIE SLOUCHED BACK in her seat as Irdu and Tia walked out the front door. His kiss still lingered on her lips and tingled along her skin. She was lucky to have him.
“I didn’t mean to scare your... friends off.” Instead of sitting, Michael drummed his fingers on his leg. In the faded jeans and thermal shirt, he looked more at home here than Ronnie in her black pencil skirt and matching jacket.
She wanted to change. The thought almost dragged a laugh from her. There was something deeper in that sentence, but she wasn’t in the mood to examine it. “They had places to be.” She stood and straightened her skirt. “We don’t have to stay if you don’t want. Though, wherever we go, I’d like to slip into something more comfortable first.”
He raised his brows, and the corners of his mouth tugged up in an almost-smile.
“Not like that.” She added her money to the stack on the table and nodded toward the front door. “More like what you’re wearing. I came straight from the office.”
“Do you still live around here? We can stop at your place, and then figure out where to go from there.”
Answering his question meant admitting she hadn’t moved out of his condo, and asking him to wait here, she’d be back soon, felt rude. “Or I could wear this. Do you have a destination? Paris?”
“It’s two a.m. in Paris.” He studied her. “I was thinking The Factory. I’m not in a rush, though. You have time to change. And I’d love to see your new place.”
“I—” If he didn’t already know, he’d find out sooner or later, and she wanted to get out of this suit. “That’s probably a good idea.” She reached for his hand and hesitated. In their circles, it didn’t mean anything. It was how two agents traveled together. Suddenly, the familiarity and
intimacy of the gesture settled deep and made her question herself. She shoved doubt aside and nestled her palm against Michael’s. She wasn’t that timid, lost little demon anymore.
In a blink, they stood in the living room. She dropped his hand the moment they were solid, and he looked around.
“I didn’t expect that.” Was that amusement in his voice? “I like what you’ve done with the place.”
She hadn’t done anything. “Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.” She strolled toward the bedroom.
“I’m being sincere. It looked good before. It’s perfect now.”
She couldn’t help a small laugh, as she bent to grab something more casual from one of the suitcases on the floor. Unpacking never happened. Every time she thought about it, she decided she’d find her own place next weekend. Until then, it felt wrong to shift his things aside for hers. “I guess I never got around to moving out.”
“I told you it was yours for as long as you needed.” His voice sounded closer than she expected. She jumped and whirled, heart hammering an awkward beat against her ribs.
He stood in the doorway, leaned against the frame, and fuck if he didn’t look incredible. Dark hair, pale eyes, and a few days’ stubble on his chin.
She wasn’t going to swoon. “Technically, you told Lucifer to tell me. And either turn around or wait in the living room.”
He spun but didn’t leave. She watched his back as she changed, feeling a sliver of hope he might sneak a peek. How childish was that? “Done,” she said as she pulled a tank top over her head and smoothed it out. She rolled her back, breathing a sigh of relief that her shoulder blades had more room to breathe now.
“Perfect.” The way he trailed his gaze over her, the appreciation in his tone, and his soft smile heated her skin faster than a rave filled with gyrating bodies and ecstasy.
Soul Betrayer (Ubiquity, #2) Page 15