Her Guardian Angel

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Her Guardian Angel Page 18

by Larissa Ione


  “Because once we find someone like you, I mark them.”

  “Mark?” Declan’s eyes narrowed. “Or track?”

  Jim Bob didn’t have to answer. The sly curve to his mouth said it all. The tats were for tracking purposes.

  “The tattoos are unique to everyone,” he said. “They tap into a human’s inner angel and give them little...tweaks.”

  “Tweaks?”

  Jim Bob shrugged. “It depends on how far back in your family tree the angel DNA came from, and it depends on the angel itself. You, for example? You are, by nature, a guardian. It’s why I gave you wings. Since getting them, you’ve probably noticed you have slightly faster reflexes and more heightened senses than people around you.”

  Suzanne grinned. “You’re a superhero.”

  “I thought I was losing my mind.” Declan raked his hand through his hair, coming to grips with all of this while shoving to his feet to pace in a circle. “I hear things long before other people do. I can see shit other people need a scope to see.” He grimaced. “I don’t want to discuss my enhanced sense of smell.”

  Jim Bob’s cell phone buzzed on the counter, but he ignored it. “What is it that brought you here, anyway?”

  “Declan has a Siecher demon after him.” Suzanne cast a glance over at Declan, who seemed lost in thought as he paced. “He’s killed one before, and we suspect that the tattoo might have been how.”

  Jim Bob shook his head. “The tattoo enhances abilities, but it wouldn’t provide the key to killing a Siecher demon.”

  That was disappointing news. “What do you know about them?”

  “Very little.” Jim Bob drummed his fingers on the table as he spoke. “I’ve never encountered one, and the only angel I know who killed one used an ability you don’t possess.”

  “How do you know?” Suzanne asked, feeling a little insulted. She might be a Memitim, but to assume she didn’t have powerful gifts was a bit elitist.

  Jim Bob gave her an even more insulting are-you-kidding-me stare. “Can you pull apart a body at a cellular level so that it rains down like microscopic glitter?”

  Oh. Suzanne was at a loss for words, but Declan was right there to help out.

  “Can you do that?” Declan asked her. “Because that would be cool. Terrifying, but cool.”

  He had some strange ideas about what was cool. “Ah, no.”

  Curiosity gleamed in Declan’s eyes as he addressed Jim Bob. “Can you put them back together?”

  “Hmm.” Jim Bob considered that. “I don’t think anyone has ever tried. I don’t know why you’d want to. I mean, you exploded them for a reason. But I don’t see why you couldn’t put them back together as long as you did it quickly.” His expression said he wanted to test that theory.

  Suzanne shuddered. She’d grown up going to church on Sundays and believing in a wrathful God and compassionate angels, but she’d since learned that reality was the exact opposite. Angels were warriors capable of ruthless cruelty, winged believers in the ends justifying the means...as long as the ends were part of the Heavenly agenda.

  Even Memitim, considered by most to be the “nice guys” of the angel world, were badasses. Well, she doubted any of her brothers and sisters considered her a badass, but she was certainly the exception.

  “Well,” Suzanne said, feeling a little deflated, “that wasn’t the news I wanted to hear.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t help more.” Standing, Jim Bob mentally unlocked the door and turned on the OPEN sign, their cue to leave. Suzanne and Declan got up to go, but as they reached the door he called out, “Oh, and Suzanne?”

  “Yes?”

  “You know not to tell anyone about this, right?” Jim Bob’s deep voice was steeped in warning.

  “Tell them what? That one of my father’s most prominent Heavenly spies doles out enchanted tattoos from a seedy shop in San Francisco?”

  “That’s precisely what you can’t tell anyone about. Anyone. Not your closest friend, not your favorite sibling, not even your father. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  Declan reached back and massaged his neck as if it was stiff, and given the last twenty-four hours, she’d be surprised if every muscle in his body wasn’t strained to its limit. “What about me? I’m assuming I can’t talk, either?”

  “You’re human,” Jim Bob said, managing to not sound like the word “human” was an insult. “Few will believe you. But those few who do will either want to kill you or use you, so yeah, keep it to yourself.”

  “No problem.” Declan gazed out the window, looking suddenly sad, and she wondered if he was thinking about Steve. “I just wish you’d had the answer we needed.”

  Jim Bob’s eyes glowed as he looked at Declan. “You never said how you killed the demon. Most human weapons wouldn’t even scratch their hides.”

  “No shit. Bullets didn’t even make the thing flinch. It was like we were throwing pebbles at The Hulk.” His fingers fluttered over the bump under his shirt where he kept his holster, as if reassuring himself that he had a weapon, even if it was useless against this particular threat. “I put a dagger through his eye socket.”

  “Really?” Jim Bob cocked his head in curiosity. “What kind of blade?”

  “It was mine. A standard—” Declan broke off, his gaze turning inward. “No...it wasn’t mine. My KA-BAR was knocked out of my hand during the fight. When I saw the demon go down, I looked around for a weapon.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner. I lifted the dagger from the demon’s belt. I killed him with his own weapon.”

  “There you go,” Jim Bob said. “You need that blade. Do you know where it is?”

  “It’s in my boss’s wall safe.”

  For the first time since Declan was attacked outside his employer’s building, Suzanne had hope that this would soon be over. And so would her status as a Memitim once it got out that she’d slept with her Primori.

  But that little hiccup was something to deal with later. Right now they had a demon to smite. “Let’s go see your boss.”

  Declan looked at her like she was mad. “I can’t just walk up to Tag and tell him I need it without telling him why. If his memories were altered like mine, he probably doesn’t even know he has it. He’s going to want to know the truth.”

  Shit. Declan was right. She was already in it up to her chin with all the rules she’d broken with Declan, and angels were working overtime to repair some of the damage, namely the destroyed house across the street from the angel mansion. She was going to be in even more trouble if she revealed their world to yet another human.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t see another option. “We have to tell him everything.”

  “I don’t need to tell you that’s forbidden,” Jim Bob said, his voice a low, ominous growl. Then he grinned, and his smile was just as ominous. “But there are ways to bend the rules.”

  Huh. She was starting to like this secretive angel. “Then let’s do this.”

  Chapter Twenty

  As Suzanne and Declan traversed the McKay-Taggart office hallways, he couldn’t believe how surreal everything felt. The last time he was here, just days ago, he hadn’t known demons existed. He hadn’t known Suzanne was an angel.

  He hadn’t had sex with an angel.

  And people were walking around, clueless. Like everything was okay. Like a Biblical apocalypse hadn’t almost destroyed mankind.

  It was maddening.

  When they got to Tag’s office, his assistant, a temp from an agency filling in for Sadie, balked at their lack of an appointment, but Declan insisted that this was important, and after consulting with Tag, she let them inside.

  Tag was sitting at his desk, his bloodshot eyes glued to the computer screen. He looked up when they entered, his brows climbing inquisitively when he saw Suzanne.

  “Declan. Ms. D’Angelo. This is unexpected.” He let out a long, drawn-out breath. He looked tired, sad, and more than a little pissed. “You got the message about St
eve?”

  “Yeah.” Declan shuddered. God, he was going to miss Steve, but Declan swore he’d take revenge. A dagger through the eye sort of revenge. “I can’t believe it.”

  Tag growled. “I’ve got everyone I can spare working to find out what happened and who’s responsible. We’ll find the psycho cocksucker who killed him. I swear it.”

  “Yeah...about that.” Declan and Suzanne sank into the chairs across from Tag. “I know who did it.”

  Taggart went as stiff and straight as the barrel of a rifle, his gaze locking onto Declan like a laser-guided missile. “Who?”

  Here we go. “Okay, first, I need you to listen to us, and I need you to not think we’re crazy.”

  “Or on drugs,” Suzanne added.

  “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try. Probably not as hard as you’d like.” Taggart jerked his head in the barest of nods. “Don’t keep me in suspense. What’s going on?”

  Declan’s gut churned. Tag was going to freak. “Yesterday something attacked us. I didn’t know what it was, but Suzanne did.” He shot a glance at Suzanne, who squeezed his hand reassuringly, a move Tag noticed. The guy didn’t miss anything.

  “Well?” Tag prompted sharply. “Spit it out.”

  Declan spit it all out. The whole damned story. In one jumbled rush. And he made sure to tell his boss that his sidewalk face plant hadn’t been a life-altering medical issue. Just a life-altering demonic one.

  Tag didn’t say a word during the entire thing. He shifted uncomfortably at times, stared out the window more than once, and twice the vein in his temple throbbed with his rapid pulse. Finally, a full sixty seconds after Declan and Suzanne stopped talking, he sat back in his chair.

  “Huh.”

  Declan blinked. “Sir?”

  “I’ve been having these fucked-up dreams. I haven’t told anyone because they’ll think I’m insane. It’s bizarre shit. Monsters coming out of the sewers. Angels blasting them with lightning. A big, armored dude on horseback popping out of thin air. The dreams feel real.”

  “Because they are,” Suzanne said. “They’re memories, not dreams.”

  “Okay, let’s say all this psycho demon crap is true, and I admit I’m pretty skeptical. I might even be planning an intervention for you as we speak.” He braced his forearms on the desk and leaned forward, his eyes hooded and unreadable. “So why are you telling me this?”

  Man, Tag was handling this a lot better than Declan had. Probably the difference between the truth being revealed calmly in an office and being revealed in the midst of a demon attack.

  “Because all of this started when I killed this demon’s buddy a couple of years ago,” Declan said. “And you were there. So was Steve. And Remy. You’re both in danger now, but we might be able to stop this demon if we can get the dagger you stored in your office safe.”

  Tag scowled. “There’s no dagger in my safe. You know I barely use that safe. It came with the building. I haven’t put anything in it in years.”

  “You should check,” Suzanne said softly.

  Looking at her like he was just doing it to humor her while they waited for the guys with straightjackets to show up, Tag pushed out of his chair and went over to the panel in the wall that concealed the safe. Seconds later, he cursed under his breath and removed a dagger, its bone handle still stained with blood.

  “Jesus,” he breathed as he turned back to them. “It’s been in there all this time, but I never saw it until now.”

  Suzanne shifted in her seat to face him. “That’s because when angels altered your memories, they tapped into the part of the human brain that either invents outlandish explanations for what it can’t understand, or it simply doesn’t consciously ‘see’ objects that don’t make sense. That dagger was part of a world you didn’t remember, so your brain didn’t register it. Demons have been using that human failing for centuries. They build structures and drive demon ambulances right in front of your noses, and humans don’t even notice.”

  “This is some crazy shit.” Tag handed the dagger to Declan. “I’m still not sure I believe it, but on the off chance that all of this is true, you’re going to use this to kill the demon that murdered Steve, right?”

  “Absolutely,” Declan said.

  A low growl rumbled in Tag’s chest. “I want to be in on it.”

  “Absolutely not.” Suzanne came to her feet, which were clad in strappy high-heeled gold sandals that seemed like a poor choice of battle footwear. But then, angels probably didn’t need combat boots. “And no one else can know about this. It’s bad enough that we told you.”

  Tag did not look happy about that. “Why can’t anyone know?”

  “It’s not time. But I have a feeling it’ll be soon. People who can handle the truth, the ones who adapted and fought well when demons breached the human realm, are being brought in first.”

  “So you’re planning on just leaving me with this knowledge that I can’t share with anyone?” Tag’s fists clenched at his sides, anger rolling off him in a palpable wave. “That’s fucked up.”

  “No.” She tapped her phone’s screen. “Your memory is going to be erased again.”

  “The hell it is,” Tag barked, and Declan couldn’t blame the guy for his reaction. He wouldn’t want to go back to ignorance, either, and if angels tried to wipe him, he’d put up a hell of a fight. He and Suzanne definitely needed to have a talk later. “Demons exist and you want me to let my friends and family be at risk?”

  “Yes, demons are real,” Suzanne said, “but truthfully, right now your friends and family are in far more danger from other humans.”

  Tag looked like he was going to explode, so Declan stepped in real quick. “Isn’t there another way?”

  “I’m sorry,” Suzanne said, genuine sympathy in her eyes. “But it has to be this way. I’m in enough trouble as it is for telling you the truth. If I let this go, I could earn a thousand years of punishment. Or worse.”

  Declan didn’t know what could be worse than a thousand years of punishment, but he didn’t want Suzanne to be subjected to any punishment at all, let alone centuries upon centuries of it.

  Tag was just going to have to go back to being blissfully ignorant of the supernatural world for a while. It was probably better for his sanity, anyway.

  A flash of light suddenly filled the room, and a heartbeat later, the tattoo angel guy, Jim Bob, was standing in the office, his massive white wings extended, the tips brushing the walls on either side of the office.

  “Holy mother of…son of a bitch!” Tag leaped backward, slamming into a bookshelf, his eyes glued to the angel. “Who the fuck are you and what is up with the wings?”

  Weird how Declan had already grown used to this insanity, because he hadn’t even blinked in surprise when the angel popped in. Had Declan looked like Tag, all bug-eyed and slack-jawed when he’d seen his first set of wings?

  Yeah, probably.

  Okay, definitely.

  Suzanne’s voice went low and soothing as she tried to keep Tag from freaking out. “This is Jim Bob. He’s an angel, and he’ll be making sure you don’t remember this conversation.”

  “Don’t worry,” Declan said. “I’ll bring you some literature to keep you up on the truth.”

  Tag looked over at him, still all kinds of freaked out. “Literature?”

  “You know how you make fun of me for my comic books?”

  Tag’s eyes were wild, rapidly shifting from Jim Bob to Declan. “Yeah...”

  Declan grinned. “Mr. Jim Bob? Do you think that while you’re in Tag’s head you can give him an appreciation for the Demonica comics?”

  When Jim Bob nodded, Tag cursed at Declan. “You nerdy motherfucker.”

  Yup. And proud of it.

  * * * *

  After leaving the McKay-Taggart offices with Declan, Suzanne flashed them back to the mansion, where Hawkyn, Cipher, Journey, Sexy, and Maddox were already waiting. She’d texted them while Jim Bob rearranged the mental files in Tag�
�s head, and now they needed to brainstorm a plan.

  “That’s really cool,” Declan said, after they’d materialized in the living room. “I always said that if I could pick a superpower, teleportation would be it.”

  “It’s handy,” she admitted. She glanced around at the waiting crowd. “Anyone hungry? I can whip up a quick snack to nosh on while we make plans.”

  Journey, who never turned down food, raised his hand. “I could eat.”

  “Dude.” Maddox reached up from his chair and punched Journey in the thigh. “You just ate two large pizzas. Sit your ass down.”

  No one else wanted anything, so she dove into their situation. Well, she started to, but Declan interrupted.

  “Before we start plotting, can I get some assurances that after this is over, I won’t be flashy-thinged?”

  Everyone stared, including Suzanne.

  “What?” That was from Hawkyn and spoken with a good dose of annoyance.

  “Flashy-thinged,” Declan repeated. “From Men in Black. You know, Will Smith? Tommy Lee Jones? They wipe memories with a little flashy thing.”

  “I totally got your reference, man,” Cipher chimed in, his fingers ripping on the keyboard. “Didn’t need to explain it to me. The other losers in the room, however…”

  “Okay, okay.” Suzanne took a step forward into the center of the room. “I think we get the gist.” She swung around to Declan, knowing he must be worried. Until it came up at Ian Taggart’s office, she hadn’t even considered what would happen to Declan’s memory after all of this was over. Yes, they’d been busy, but this was only more evidence that she wasn’t cut out for being a Memitim. “Declan, we’ll petition the Memitim Council to make an exception for you. You’re clearly an asset. It won’t be a problem.” She was totally talking out of her ass, as Maddox liked to say, but she’d always been an optimist. Besides, she had a brother with influence on her side. “Isn’t that right, Hawkyn?”

 

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