by RJ Blain
On the grand scale of things, I’d never been so wrong in my life. I was so wrong the angels had to slap the sin out of me to knock the sense back into my skull. “Pretty stars,” I slurred.
At least I came away with an understanding of why mortals couldn’t go to heaven until after death. I’m pretty sure I caught a glimpse of it, and I hid from the memory like a turtle withdrawing into its shell at the first sign of trouble. I couldn’t tell if it was good or bad, but something about it made my skin crawl.
“I was wrong,” I informed the angels. “No halos.”
Both of them laughed, the sound tinkling in my head, as delicate as crystal chimes in the wind. “You only died a little. This is good.”
Angels had a morbid sense of humor. Who knew? “How long was I out?”
“Dying only a little takes a little time. The sun set a little while ago. We told the upset, complaining humans outside you needed a little time to stop dying a little.”
I groaned. Why did I have the sinking feeling time meant absolutely nothing to an immortal? Right. If the sun was down, at least three or four hours had gone by. “And the bar patrons?”
“They are calm. Happy, even. Incubus magic does that to humans. We have conferred with the humans overseeing things, and we offered to glimpse a little into their futures. Incubus magic brings many young, but human young. Incubus magic did not help the gorgons procreate. The rest falls under the dominion of humans and is not for us to decide.”
“Oh boy.” I shook my head to clear it and forced myself to sit up.
“You should take a little time. Get up in little time, so you do not die a little again. That would be inconvenient.”
“Dying usually is. And no offense, but I’m done with this whole dying thing already.”
The angels laughed, and one of them touched their long, slender finger to my nose. “Amusing human. Such entertainment over such a little time.”
Next time I asked for an angel, I hoped someone reminded me angels made bad things happen to me. I staggered to my feet with the help of a fallen chair and slogged to the door, swallowing my curses so the angels wouldn’t actually smite me.
Two police cruisers and a shiny red convertible waited in front of the bar. “Oh boy.”
Quinn leaned against his car talking to four officers, and when he caught sight of me, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Enjoy your nap? Are you aware you’re dripping pink slime all over the place? You look like the victim of a glitter factory explosion.”
Behind me, the angels laughed. If they never stopped making the sound, I’d be happy. I could listen to them all day long and never tire of it. “The strong little human only died a little, see?”
They stepped around me and vanished in a flash of golden light, and when darkness fell, the goop crumbled to a shimmery powder and piled around my feet. My clothes remained wet, but at least I no longer left puddles on the sidewalk.
“Oh, it’s Chief Quinn. Hi, Chief Quinn. I got my ass smited by a pair of angels, and I asked for it.”
Quinn didn’t look impressed. “I think you mean smote. Next time, when you request angels, leave the scene before they start singing.”
“Didn’t you hear them, Chief Quinn? I only died a little.” Maybe pulling the tiger’s tail wasn’t so great of an idea, especially since he did a full body twitch when I said the word died. “I found out it’s gorgon mating season.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Uh oh. Quinn kept his tone calm and collected, his expression neutral, and save for his crossed arms and the occasional twitch, his body remained relaxed. His utter control did unfair things to me, including reminding me how nice he looked without a single stitch of clothes on. Crap.
Inappropriate or not, I undressed the man with my eyes, looking him over from his face all the way down to his polished shoes.
Yep. Had he strolled into the incubus-infested bar, I would’ve jumped him and started ripping his clothes off. What I would have done to—with—him wasn’t legal in any state. Damn, damn, damn. I loved everything about the man, even—especially—when he was pissed at me for doing something stupid.
I was in way too deep.
I straightened, stared him in the eyes, and stated, “I am not sorry I beat the shit out of the gorgon. I’m okay with it if you need to arrest me.” Since I was cooperating, I even held my hands out. “I’ll even let you handcuff me without putting up a fight.”
One of the cops choked, probably so he wouldn’t laugh. Me and my big, stupid mouth. Why couldn’t I say something serious without mangling it or turning it into something far worse than I actually meant?
Quinn cleared his throat, and the cop quieted. “The attempted assault was caught on both body cams with full audio. You’re not going to be arrested, and you won’t even need to show up in court.”
“He tried to petrify me!”
“So I saw.”
I lifted my chin. “O’Daniel wouldn’t let me kill him. I think that’s unfair. That gorgon was working with an incubus.”
“I’m aware, seeing as that’s the reason you requested an angel in the first place.”
“I got smited, Chief Quinn. Smote. Whatever. Angels sang, the lights went out.” I was whining, but hadn’t I earned at least a little whining?
“Then you got the dumbass idea to request a halo. That was not one of your brighter moments.”
Yippee. If I got really lucky, Quinn would dress me down in front of his four cops for at least an hour. “I didn’t do it on purpose. I’m sorry. How long have I been bathing in neutralizer?”
If I’d been in it for more than an hour, I’d be going right back to the hospital for vaccinations. Again.
Quinn put on an infuriatingly sexy show of checking his watch, humming while he considered the time. “Seventeen minutes. I should have let you stew in there for sixty-one minutes, Gardener. I was so, so tempted to let you stew in there for sixty-one minutes. Do you know what would have happened if I had?”
I lowered my head and accepted my scolding with the little dignity I had left, reminding myself he did it to all his cops who did something stupid. “I would have needed vaccinations, Chief Quinn.”
Giving the correct answer earned me a round of applause. “The tanker left about five minutes before you staggered out of the bar like a drunk. The angels suggested we leave you in the neutralizer for fifteen minutes just to be safe since you had finished dying a little.”
“Right.” Quinn wasn’t going to let go of the whole dying a little thing, was he? Then again, I couldn’t blame him for it. If he’d been the one who had died a little, I wouldn’t have been so calm or collected. “I’m soaking wet and have no other clothes, Chief Quinn.”
Sighing, Quinn shook his head. “Get in the damned car, Gardener.”
Chapter Thirteen
Angels were sneaky bastards. The instant I slid into Quinn’s convertible, my whole body started tingling and the smoldering heat of the incubus’s influence rushed through me. The chiming laughter of angels rang in my ears.
First they smited me, then they dumped me in Quinn’s car, revved my engine, tossed in an extra side order of lust, and laughed about it. It took all my willpower to keep from squirming on the leather seat. I bit my lip, buckled my seat belt, and waited for him to start the car and get on the road. “Hey, Quinn?”
“What?”
“Angels are assholes.”
“Oh?”
The tinkling laughter intensified before dissipating like fog in the morning light. “Angels like you, don’t they?”
He snorted. “What gives you that idea?”
“I think they want me to have sex with you right now.” I really wanted to unbuckle my seatbelt, crawl to his side of the car, and start ripping off his clothes. Maybe I’d even let him pull over first. “I’ll take anything. Something. Please.”
“Hallelujah and amen. Thank you, God.”
Great. The angels had a convert. “It’s the incubus’s fault,
Quinn. And they’re laughing about it. The angels lulled me into a false sense of security, put me in your car, and then flipped the sex switch.”
“The angels flipped the sex switch, huh? So I guess this means you don’t want to go out for a nice dinner and do some clothes shopping before I take you home? I was also thinking we might sit down and have a long talk about us. We probably should have talked sooner, but I can’t help it I’m just a man. When a beautiful woman tells me she’s a virgin and wants me to spank her, I obey.”
“That should classify as cruel and unusual punishment. I hate you so much right now.”
Worse, I loved hating him. Damn it, the man confused me and made me like it.
“That’s only because you want me to throw you onto my bed and have my way with you. I’m not against making love with you all night long. I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.”
“Yes, please.” I bit my lip. “Sneaky angels.”
Quinn laughed. “Angels have a very odd culture. They’re probably thanking you for having done a good deed. They’re also telepaths and can read minds. Since incubi are really, really good at stirring human desires, the angels likely knew everything you were thinking in there and who you were thinking about. Did I mention they’re telepaths and mind readers? So, without a doubt, they knew what I was thinking, too. It involved me being very, very cranky you were anywhere near an incubus. Angels are jerks and enjoy screwing around with me. The good news is you’ll survive until I get you home.”
“What’s the bad news? That tells me there’s bad news. Hasn’t there been enough bad news?”
“I have to get rid of my ex-wife before I can toss you onto my bed and have my way with you. Audrey’s probably camped out on my front step and won’t go away until I talk to her. She’s a pain in the ass like that.”
I scowled. Quinn’s ex-wife was at his house? Unacceptable. “I guess I’d get arrested if I got rid of her, wouldn’t I?”
“I have a trick up my sleeve that should get rid of her, so don’t worry. It shouldn’t delay us for long.”
Alarm bells went off in my head, which distracted me from my desire to have my way with Quinn as soon as possible. While still tempted to beg him to pull into the nearest dark alley, I swallowed and asked, “What are you going to do?”
“When she asks what you’re doing at my house, I’m going to tell her the truth. I’m going to tell her you’re living with me. I’m going to do this while I admire you in those jeans you’re wearing. If she doesn’t get the hint, I’m going to start running my hands all over you before I toss you over my shoulder and carry you into my house. Then I’m going to slam the door, lock it, and we’re going to make so much noise that she gets uncomfortable and leaves.”
How had I gone from hopeless and doomed to stay a virgin to having one of the hottest men in Manhattan wanting to throw me over his shoulder and carry me into his house to establish his territory? My poor ovaries couldn’t handle much more before they combusted.
Just like that, the angels had made a second convert. Thank you, God. “Did the incubus influence you, too? Because that’s hot, Quinn. That’s ‘pull the damned car over’ hot.”
“Bailey, if the incubus had influenced me, we’d still be in the bar having sex with an audience. It’d be on the morning news. Actually, they’d have to censor the whole thing because us together is so amazing no one would be able to handle watching it.”
I spent a very long minute trying to imagine what would have happened in the bar. “I’m strangely disappointed right now.”
“Of course you are. You want me. I’m impressed you haven’t tried to seduce me while I’m driving. You have a freakish amount of self-control.”
“Your house has an ex-wife infestation. It might end up condemned. We should go find a hotel. I haven’t had a chance to be a girlfriend before, and I don’t want to be a convict before I become a girlfriend.”
“You’re going to have to help me out with this one, Bailey. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“If your ex-wife comes between you, me, and a bed, I will kill her.”
“I followed that part. It’s the convict before girlfriend part I’m having trouble with.”
I frowned. “You just explained it. What don’t you understand? I don’t want to be a convict before I have a chance to be a girlfriend.”
“Bailey.”
“What?”
“I don’t do casual hookups or one-night stands. I present the evidence you were, until yesterday, a twenty-nine year old virgin as proof you don’t either. You’re the first woman I’ve been with since I divorced. You’re a damned beautiful girl, and since I find friendship—even a weird one with lots of yelling and bickering—mandatory for a relationship, I think it’s safe to say you’re my girlfriend. Granted, I really should have talked to you about this first, but you had to open your mouth and beg me to spank you.” His voice turned husky. “I enjoyed every moment I spent making love to you in every room of my house.”
I had seen my face in the mirror enough times to know I had little scars all over my cheeks and nose. Even before a bomb had gone off in my face, I didn’t think I was pretty, let alone beautiful. “Oh.”
He shot me a grin. “You found my weakness and exploited it. Well done.”
I needed him, and I needed him now. “There’s a really seedy hotel less than two miles from your house. We could go there.”
“I know. How do I know? I was home when the call came in you’d been found there in critical condition. For the record, that was when I decided I needed to take extra measures to get your attention.”
I should have known. Crap. I scrunched my shoulders and slouched in my seat. “I really was going to call a cab and take myself to the hospital.”
“You know what? Screw it. Let’s go to a hotel. I don’t do seedy ones, though. Audrey can stalk my empty house for all I care. I’ve got better things to do right now. You, for the record.”
Yes, yes, yes! Score.
“We’re staying at the Plaza?”
A smug Quinn flashed me a grin, turned the car around, and headed towards Central Park. “I don’t do seedy hotels, it’s close to work, and they have really nice beds. They’ll also have dinner ready not long after we arrive. I hope you like steak and potatoes, because I’m going to be feeding it to you piece by piece.”
“You have my attention.”
“All I’d have to do to have your attention right now is unbutton my shirt.”
“I can help you with that.”
“You can wait ten minutes.”
Could I? Maybe, but I didn’t want to. I settled with staring at him, and he chuckled, a low, throaty sound I wanted to hear again. I sat on my hands. Undressing him before we got to the hotel wouldn’t help very much, no matter how badly I wanted to. “Someone like me doesn’t belong at the Plaza, you know.”
Quinn snorted. “Are you referring to your matted, pink, and glittery hair, your pink-stained shirt, or the fact your jeans should be classified as a felony?”
“What’s wrong with my jeans?”
“Nothing. That’s the problem. I’m going to have to peel you out of them. It’ll be like unwrapping a present, but a stubborn one prone to wiggling.”
“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”
“Me? Tease the incubus-influenced woman I intend to keep thoroughly occupied in our hotel room starting in about ten minutes? Never.”
“You could just pull into an alley, damn it!”
“Is this whole alley fetish a sign of your desperation, or are you actually interested in making out in an alley?”
Damn it. I scowled, pulled my hands out from under me, crossed my arms over my chest, and stared out the window. “You drive too slow.”
“Taking my woman to a hotel so we can stay up all night isn’t a legitimate excuse to run my sirens. You’ll survive for ten minutes. I suppose I should scold those angels for not waiting until we were somewhere a bit more private before dro
pping their magic. That was a little underhanded of them. Are you being rewarded or punished? Maybe you were right, and I’m the one being rewarded while you’re being punished. I can live with that.”
I needed to think long and hard about what I liked so much about Samuel Quinn. Everything, which was my default answer, had to be incorrect. “You’re an asshole.”
“But I’m an asshole who is really good in bed and willing to prove it to you all night long.”
Once again, he won, and the smug bastard knew it, too. I surrendered with a whimper, slouched in the seat, and decided my goal in life was to keep from squirming, whimpering, or moaning until we reached the hotel room.
It took Quinn six minutes to reach the Plaza, and the instant I got out of his car, he tossed me over his shoulder, secured a hold on my legs, and carried me inside. The valet did his best but ultimately laughed his head off. Quinn strutted into the lobby, whistling a happy little tune.
I snatched handfuls of Quinn’s shirt so I wouldn’t succumb to the temptation to grab something enticing but rather inappropriate. I added groping to my list of things I wouldn’t do until we reached our room.
“Chief Quinn. Your room is ready. Your other requests should be prepared within the next twenty minutes.”
I peeked around Quinn’s side. The man behind the large desk smiled; good hotels always had smiling employees, even when one of the guests was spreading pink, glittery dust all over the marble floor.
“Excellent. Thank you. Hey, Bailey? Grab my wallet, would you?”
It wasn’t inappropriate if he asked me to do it, right? I didn’t need to be asked twice. I slid my hand into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet. Maybe I shouldn’t have squeezed him in the process, but if he wanted a miracle, he needed to ask an angel. I slipped his wallet into his hand. “Here.”
At the front doors, the busboy and the second valet were laughing so hard I was worried there’d be bodies. With my luck, they were taking pictures, so I smiled and waved. Maybe the real miracle was my restraint.