by Terri Garey
She had the raspy voice of a longtime smoker, and the wrinkles to match. Frizzy auburn hair, liberally streaked with gray.
“Take it from Maybelline, sweetheart,” she said, the weathered creases around her eyes crinkling, “if you love him, figure out a way to work it out. If you don’t, move on. Life’s too short for anything else.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, refusing to be friendly, “but I came in here to be alone, so if you don’t mind…” I tilted my head toward the bar, making my point clear.
“See that man over there?” she asked, eyeing the fat guy on the stool. “That there is Claude, the love of my life.” She’d obviously decided to ignore my request to be left alone. “We was together twenty-eight years, Claude and me, before the cancer got me. Divorced twice, remarried once, living together ‘til the day I died.”
Oh, shit. I raised the glass in my hand and took a big swallow of Jack and Coke.
Why, oh why, did the dead tend to find me when I least needed finding? Selfishly enough, I wasn’t in the mood to do anyone any favors right now.
Maybelline was smiling fondly at the fat guy, who was watching football, oblivious to us both. “He’s not much of a talker, my Claude, but he’s a good man. Two kids, a mortgage, and a busi ness, but he always put food on the table. Solid, reliable—the kind of man you can count on.”
She turned her head and looked me in the eye. “Not too bad in the sack, either, believe it or not. Your man like that?”
What was I gonna do, lie to a dead lady? “Yes,” I answered, “He is.”
Her smile broadened. She had a nice smile, though her teeth could’ve used some whitening. Too late for that.
“Can you do me a favor?”
Uh-oh. Here we go.
“Ask yourself the question, “Am I better off with him, or without him?’ If the answer is ‘with him,’ then you best make up your mind to go through some rough times, and fight for him. Promise me you’ll do that.”
I found myself confused, but it could’ve been the Jack. I took another sip, just to be certain. “That’s the favor?” I asked, as it slid down easy. “Don’t you want me to give Claude a message or something?”
Maybelline laughed, and I’d swear that Claude heard it, because he straightened on his stool and looked around for a second before going back to football highlights. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Thank you kindly.”
Then she got up, giving the table between us a couple of taps with her fingers. “Take your time, sweetheart, and think about it. Me and Claude won’t bother you none. Just let him know when you’re ready for another drink.”
She walked back to her spot behind the bar, leaning against the counter where she watched football highlights with her oblivious husband.
Unless he wasn’t really oblivious, and knew, on some level, that Maybelline was still there.
With a sigh, I gave up trying to figure it out and leaned my head back against the seat once again. It was no business of mine if someone would rather hang out in a bar with her husband than cross over; if they were happy, I was happy.
True love. What more was there?
Bursting into quiet tears, I cried, alone in my booth, hoping that when the tears were over I’d feel better, and know what to do.
One hour and two damp, wadded napkins later, the only thing I knew to do was not drive. I hadn’t set out to get tipsy, just relaxed, but two strong JCs had left my head spinning, so much so that I had to hold on to the booth to right myself when I stood up.
“G’night, Claude,” I said to the fat guy on my way out. He barely acknowledged it until I added, “G’night, Maybelline.” His head jerked in my direction while I cringed, mentally smacking myself for saying it out loud.
“You feel her, too?” he asked, not moving from his stool.
Maybelline smiled at me from behind the bar, not saying a word.
“Yeah,” I answered him, nodding. “Yeah, I feel her, too.”
He gave a grunt, and went back to watching sports, as I pushed my way out the glass door and into a nippy December night.
I had a plan after all, which was to walk the less than half block to Handbags and Gladrags, and sleep on the old leather sofa in the office. I’d done it many times before, back in my wild days, before my heart stopped. Before my wimpy, stupid, bruised, battered heart had started ruling my life. Before I’d opened my eyes and seen the love of my life bending over me, doing what he did best, which was helping people.
I was grateful for the streetlights, because Little Five’s streets were mostly deserted. Most of the regular bums knew me, so I wasn’t too worried, but I dug out a can of pepper spray just in case.
“He’s just trying to be nice to her because that’s what he does,” I muttered, trying to convince myself of it as I walked. Turning up the collar of my coat, I wished I’d worn a heavier sweater instead of the thin black one I’d chosen for the evening. “And he can’t help what he dreams.”
The best thing I could do was to calm down, quit acting like a drama queen because my boyfriend had a wet dream about someone else, and figure out a way to get rid of Selene.
“Piece of cake,” I mumbled, still talking to myself as I reached the front door of the store.
A shadow detached itself from the wall near the entrance and said, “Don’t mind if I do.”
I shrieked, aiming the pepper spray faster than you could blink.
“I love cake,” Sammy said, stepping into the light. “Do you have any?”
CHAPTER 13
“Why, Nicki,” Sammy said, cocking his blond head with a smile. “I do believe you’re drunk.”
His hair was longer this time, with a natural curl I hadn’t noticed when it was short. It gave him a boyish, playful look. No less sexy, damn him.
“Get away from me,” I said tightly, not lowering the pepper spray. His sudden appearance had scared me to death, and I was angry at myself for the relief I felt at the sight of him.
Relief, and a flutter of something suspiciously like happiness.
Which scared me even more.
“Come now,” he said, keeping his hands in the pockets of his coat. It was the peacoat I’d sold him last year, the one we’d shopped for together before I knew he was the Devil. “You know I’m not going to hurt you.”
Liar. It hurts me just to look at you.
I lowered the pepper spray, resigned. “What do you want?”
He frowned, rocking back on his heels. Tony Lama wingtip boots, well-worn and well-polished, beneath equally well-worn jeans. “Hardly the greeting I was hoping for. Here I was, under the impression that you’d missed me.”
“Why would you think something like that?” I asked snippily, reaching for the door handle. I hadn’t missed him. I hadn’t.
“You defended me to your sister,” he said softly, stepping closer. He took his hands from his pockets and spread them wide to show he was no threat. “When Kelly asked you if I was behind your latest bout of trouble”—he shrugged, close enough now for me to see the smile in his blue eyes—“you said no. You thought of me fondly, just for a moment.”
I began to tremble, whether from his knowledge or his nearness, I couldn’t tell. I took a step back, away from his open palms. “So you are behind it,” I accused, choosing not to acknowledge his last statement. “I knew it.”
The night air was cold, stinging my cheeks. The ring of light at the base of the streetlamp felt like it contained the whole world. He was looking at me in a way that made my knees weak; the blond fallen angel with a weakness for the flesh, any woman’s fantasy come to life.
“I knew better than to think of you, even for a moment,” I said softly, finally admitting it to myself.
The words hung in the air between us. He held me pinned with those bright blue eyes, but there was no laughter in them just now. I got the feeling that I might as well have just announced that I was in love with him.
Which I wasn’t, because I was in love with Joe.
&n
bsp; Joe.
Sammy shook his head. “Oh, Nicki.” He sighed heavily, slipping his hands back into his pockets. “You really don’t know what’s going on, do you?”
“No, I don’t.” Angry now, I didn’t try to hide it, any more than I could hide that I was slightly tipsy. “Why don’t you explain it to me, Mr. Scary Devil Man?” He grinned as I waved an unsteady hand in the general direction of the universe. “What have I ever done to you that you would pick on me like this? Why did you send those three troublemaking bi—” A hiccup kept me from the profanity. “—and what is the freakin’ deal with Selene?”
“Is that what she’s calling herself now?” he asked, surprising me.
A wave of dizziness had me leaning against the door.
Sammy reached out to steady me, and I let him, thinking it might be a good idea to sit down.
“Let me buy you some coffee,” he said gently. “I’ll explain everything.”
The night was so quiet that I could literally hear the hum of the streetlight, and far away, the music from Vertigo’s weeknight cover band. He smelled exactly as I remembered, like forbidden fruit and exotic spices, and for a second, just a second, I was tempted to lean my head against his chest. I felt his hand through the sleeve of my coat, and against whatever better judgment I thought I possessed, I nodded my head. “This had better be good.”
Sammy smiled down at me as he led me away from the shop door. “How could it possibly hurt?” he asked lightly. “Two old friends, catching up over coffee.” Before I knew it, he’d tucked my cold hand into the bend of his elbow, where I let it stay, only because I was freezing. “What could possibly be better?”
“I’m not drunk,” I stated firmly. The guy at Marley’s made a mean Jack and Coke, which I made a mental note to remember next time. “I just need something to eat, that’s all.”
“Two black coffees and a muffin,” Sammy told the girl behind the counter at Moonbeans, who was smiling at him and ignoring me. “We’ll be at the table in the corner.”
Taking me by the elbow, he led me there, and I had to admit it felt good to sit down. Plus it was cold outside. In here it was warm and smelled like gingerbread.
He took a seat across from me, and suddenly there we were, face to face for the first time in months. His expression was hard to read; he was smiling at me, but his eyes were hooded. Honey gold hair, tipped with blond, nice tan—he looked like he’d been somewhere a lot warmer than Atlanta lately.
He did the same thing I did and examined me openly from tip to toe, or as much as he could see before the table cut him off, anyway. His smile got bigger.
“You’re looking well,” he said approvingly. “You’ve put on a few pounds.”
“I have not!”
“You were too thin,” he said, unbuttoning his coat. “Your trip to death’s door obviously took its toll.”
In more ways than one. My entire life had changed the day my heart stopped. I could see dead people, I’d met Joe, and now I had creatures like Sammy in my life. Incredibly sexy, hard-to-resist creatures…
“You said you’d tell me about Selene,” I said bluntly.
“Patience,” he said, looking up to greet the waitress, who’d arrived with our coffee, “is a virtue.” He smiled at her as he said it, and I could literally see the flush of pleasure in her cheeks. She shot him a flirtatious glance as she slid a plate holding a muffin onto the table.
“Will there be anything else?”
I might as well have been invisible, but that was okay by me.
“Nothing, thank you,” Sammy responded, not looking at the food. “It looks delicious.”
She barely hid a little half smile as she walked away, back toward the counter.
“You can’t help yourself, can you?” I asked him.
He shook his head, reaching for his coffee. “Why should I?”
I didn’t have an answer for him, so I just picked up my coffee and took a careful sip. He sipped his as I broke off a piece of muffin and choked it down, not at all hungry but knowing I was going to need all the strength I could get.
“So trouble has found its way into paradise, I see,” he finally said, after I’d eaten two thirds of the muffin. “You and Prince Charming not seeing eye-to-eye these days?”
I was in no mood to be toyed with. “Enough with the bullshit. What are you doing here?”
He frowned. “Tsk, tsk. So unladylike.”
“Why did you send the Moirae after me?”
A blond eyebrow arched. “Ah, so you’re not entirely clueless, after all.” He tapped the rim of his coffee cup with a finger. “Except the part about me sending them.” Another frown, as he took another sip of coffee. “They came completely on their own.”
I leaned back in my chair. “You expect me to believe that?”
He shrugged. “You’ll believe what you like, you always do, but the fact remains that I’m innocent in this. You’ve stirred up a hornet’s nest this time, Nicki, my love.”
My love. “You’re a liar.”
“Yes, I am.” He leaned back himself, resting an arm over the chair back beside him.
I had to give the big fat liar kudos for honesty.
Eyeing him mistrustfully, I said, “Okay, so you didn’t send them. Call them off.”
He laughed, with a flash of white teeth and a sardonic curl of the lip. “If only it were that easy.”
“It is that easy,” I insisted.
His peacoat had fallen open, revealing a pale blue cashmere sweater that matched his eyes, worn over a plain white tee. Simple, elegant, stylish. Damn him.
“They don’t answer to me,” he said, shaking his head. His eyes were drawn to my mouth, just for a moment. “I’m not all-powerful.”
Finding that hard to believe, I just stared at him.
“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,” he quoted, with a rueful grin, “than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
“Hamlet,” I responded, unimpressed. “I went to high school, you know.”
“How fortunate for you,” he said smoothly. “Lost your virginity at the prom, I assume?”
“I don’t need your sarcasm,” I said, getting angry. Of all the stupid things I’d done in my life, agreeing to coffee with Sammy was certainly right up there.
“No,” he agreed, “but you need my help.” Cocking his head, he let his eyes rove over my face. “If sarcasm is the price you pay, then so be it.”
“You’ll expect a much higher price than that, and we both know it.” I want to make love to you, he’d once said. I want to lick each of your secret places, taste your juices on my tongue.
He gave me a rueful smile. “Not this time,” he said. “I have my own reasons for wanting the Moirae stopped.”
I was silent for a minute, staring at him, challenging him to meet my eyes. “Why should I believe a word you say?”
He didn’t flinch. His eyes were so blue, so beautiful. “You shouldn’t,” he said. “But I’m going to tell you the truth anyway.”
A memory surfaced of the day I’d gone for a ride with him on a glorious spring afternoon; Stone Mountain Freeway, top down. He’d told me his side of the story of how he’d fallen from grace. This time—maybe it was just the warm quiet of the coffee shop that calmed my nerves, maybe it was the table between us—I wasn’t as afraid to listen.
“Tell me.”
CHAPTER 14
“When I was cast down,” Sammy said, as though being thrown out of Heaven was an everyday occurrence, “I was not the only one punished.” He looked away from me, out the window of Moonbeans into the dark streets outside. “Two of us sinned that day, after all. Lilith was cast from the garden with her miserable ape and his pitiful banana, sentenced to a life of pain and blood and death, destined to grow old before her time giving birth to a nation of savages. She deserved it, of course, far more than I did. It was her choice to sin, after all.”
His bitterness was distracting. “Eve, right? You’re talking about Eve
.”
“She has borne many names throughout the centuries,” he said, still staring out the window. “Eve, Lilith, Naamah, Artemis, Hecate.” He shot me a glance from the corner of his eye. “Including Selene, goddess of the moon.”
The room seemed to swim. I grabbed the table with both hands and held on, feeling like one of the snowflakes in a Christmas water globe, shaken by a giant cosmic hand.
“Those first few years with Adam, she seemed fine,” he went on with the story, heedless of my shock, “finding solace in our son, I suppose. A good-looking young man, not afraid of anything. I saw him a time or two. But then she had another son, with that miserable cretin she was married to. The two brothers never got along, apparently fighting all the time. When the elder son killed the younger, her husband cursed her, and Lilith realized she’d spawned more than just savages; she’d spawned evil, given birth to the concept of murder…brother against brother.”
Horrified, I realized I was listening to Sammy’s version of the Cain and Abel story.
“Adam, that idiot, tried to reverse the spread of evil by refusing to sleep with her. Claimed her womb was tainted, or some such nonsense. She had to trick him into fathering her third son, and then he hated her for it.” Sammy shook his head, obviously contemptuous. “Wouldn’t put her aside, but wouldn’t have sex with her. Can you imagine the logic behind that move? A woman like that, created for pleasure, ripe with desire…”
“I get it,” I said flatly, interrupting him. “She was hot.”
He smiled, brought back to himself by my lack of appreciation for detail.
“Get to the point,” I said, while my stomach churned. “What happened? What does this have to do with what’s happening now?”
“She went mad,” he said simply. “And then she came to me.”
I swallowed, hard. “Sh-she came to you?”
“She took her own life,” he said, then shrugged. “She was banned from Heaven, just as I was. It was inevitable that we’d run into each other.”