by Holley Trent
Hannah pushed up an eyebrow and rubbed Steven’s back.
He stood wide-eyed and very still, his baseball cap a bit crooked and skin that was usually a bit sun-burnished looking extraordinarily pale.
Need to get him home.
Cats had ways of dealing with their own when they were in shock. Someone else could deal with that shivering angel.
As if he’d heard her thought, Claude said, “I suppose we could wake a couple of people now that all is said and done.”
“Wake Mason in the morning,” Ellery said, cleaning her dagger’s blade on the hem of her shirt.
And that reminded Belle of the other blade. She struggled to her feet, moved to Steven, and gently loosened his grip on Gail’s athame. “Let’s give that back to its owner,” she whispered. “Those witches are possessive about their daggers.”
She handed Gail her knife and dressed as quickly as she could, groaning at each large pull to her spent muscles.
Sean sidled over and put his back to the group who were congregating around the angel—all except Steven—and whispered, “What happened? Something Hannah and I need to worry about?”
Belle ground her teeth and tamped down the compulsion to lash out and defy him just for him being male and her brother. He wasn’t there to boss her around at the moment, and she knew that. He was just trying to get information. Information helped the glaring run smoothly and efficiently, and they’d gone far too long with there being poor communication all the way around. She had to try harder to be tolerant around her brothers. They were wired to be bossy assholes, and she was wired not to take it. That didn’t mean they couldn’t cooperate.
“Yes,” Belle said, cutting her gaze to Steven, who stared at the mute feathered lady.
“Do we need to worry about it right now, or can we let Mason sleep through the night?”
“I ... don’t know. I mean, I don’t think anything’s going to happen, but he’ll probably want to know. Those things are down there. Los Impostores.”
“You saw them?”
She nodded and tied her shoes. “One was picking on the angel, and there were a couple more who tried to overtake Steven and me on the way out. One of them had a warning that they weren’t done with us yet.”
“Meaning the Cougars?”
“Yes, I think so.”
Sean rubbed the day-old scruff on his chin and worked his jaw side to side.
She wasn’t reading anything substantial off his energy. His inner cat was calm and his stress was low, and that probably helped keep Belle from being too agitated. She wasn’t reading him as aggressive.
Thank the gods.
“Go on home,” he said. “Whatever happens, Hannah and I will get between you and Mason.”
“Really?”
Sean shrugged. “He’ll be okay once he realizes we did him a favor. We’re looking to have a busy day ahead, and at least he would have had some rest.”
“Thank you.”
“Yeah.” He gave her a little nudge toward Steven. “Get him out of here, and take Lily home.”
Belle liked the sound of that plan a lot. The only problem was Lily had a sobbing angel clinging to her as if Lily were both her sword and shield, and all the other weirdos in the collection could do was look on lamely.
Lily shifted her gaze to Belle. “I’m awake, right?”
“I bet you’re wishing you’d stayed at home playing video games with the deputy.”
“I’m sure this is a lot more exciting. Just tell me.” She managed to lift one arm enough to point at the haggard lady. “This is ...”
“Yep.”
Lily nodded. “Just checking. So ...” She gave the angel’s busted wing a little pat, and when she cried out, Lily winced. “Oops. Sorry.”
“She should be able to put those away,” Claude said. “As far as I know, most can disguise them. Even the fallen ones still have them. They hide them using a kind of magic. Glamour.”
“She might be too injured,” Steven said in a croak. It was the first time he’d said anything since they exited that hole.
Belle looped her arm around Steven’s and gave it a squeeze. At least he’s paying attention. That’s a good sign.
Ellery nodded. “Makes sense to me. I can examine her in the morning once she’s a little calmer, assuming she lets me. But what are we going to do with her tonight?”
The lady with the wings clung to Lily and damn near hid behind her, which would have worked better if Lily weren’t so slight in comparison.
Belle got Steven moving toward the car. The weirdo collective could do whatever they wanted with the angel. For all Belle cared at the moment, they could camp out in front of the portal and roast marshmallows on the charred remains of anything stupid enough to come out of it.
Steven’s steps were automatic, but plodding.
As long as Belle kept pulling, he kept moving. Occasionally, he looked back at the congregation by the hellmouth, but mostly, he stared down at his feet or at the desert floor.
She bumped him with her hip. “Aren’t ya glad I came?”
He didn’t respond, beyond furrowing his forehead and fixing his sights on the punch buggy.
“Are you even glad you came?”
If her sense of hearing hadn’t been supernatural, she might not have heard the dry, quiet scoff.
“I guess that’s what being an adult is, huh?” she asked. “Sometimes, you’ve got to do shit you don’t want to do for the greater good. The sooner you do it, the less angst it’ll cause you down the line.”
“Unless you’re already so messed up that the thing being over makes everything worse.”
“I—”
He took her by the shoulders, stopping her near the front passenger seat of her car. “Let me have the keys. I need to drive.”
She patted her pockets and worried for a moment she’d lost the damned things halfway to hell, but finally found the ring in the back pocket of her jeans. She dropped them into his shaking palm and snatched them back before he could close his fingers around them.
“Belle—”
She wrapped her fingers around his and dug her thumb into his palm.
Soothing people wasn’t one of her favorite pastimes, especially male people. Getting close enough to touch meant they’d disrupt her energy and agitate her inner cat, but Belle figured in for a penny, in for a pound. Steven had been agitating her since he’d first shown up at the ranch, and the cat part of her had already decided she’d keep him.
What’s a little more frustration?
The darkness that unsettled him settled in deep and wound through his body. It’d taken root and had become a part of him—like some cancer he couldn’t excise.
Fixing people like Jill—at least temporarily—was easy. The thing that was wrong with their energy was always near the surface of them. Belle always imagined connecting with them was a fleeting act, so short that it was like plucking a featherweight ball off the surface of still water.
Steven wasn’t easy. He wasn’t exaggerating—logic was no balm for him.
She couldn’t help him yet—wasn’t sure how to, and she had a sneaking suspicion that with the way things went in Foyeland, maybe he’d even get worse before he got better.
Still, she held his hand, and he let her.
At least until a gust of wind blew a feather between them and the residual scent of brimstone prickled her nose.
Lily approached with Hannah on her heels and the angel clinging to Lily’s side.
“I think she’s reading Lily as safe because she’s not weird,” Hannah said.
Lily sighed.
“I take it she’s going home with us, then,” Belle said.
“It’d probably be better for her to be there instead of here, anyway,” Hannah said. “When everyone wakes up and they start working out all the details of what happened, they’re going to crowd and question her. Let’s put a little distance between her and the fray for as long as we can. The angel bunch is probably goin
g to sense she’s around, anyway.”
The lady made another of those startled yips and shuddered her wings as if she were going to take flight, but Hannah put her hands to her shoulders and murmured, “Easy. We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”
“They’re going to send me back,” she said in a frantic whisper. “They’re going to be mad. I didn’t complete my mission. It was my last chance, and I failed again.”
The pitch of her voice was high for an adult. Sweet. She sounded like Belle would have imagined a fairy to sound like. It hadn’t been aural interference as Claude had suggested. The angel did sound like a child.
“Hannah’s right,” Belle said. “We’re not going to let anything happen to you. I have to ask, though. Why me? Why were you calling my name?”
“She told me to,” the angel whispered.
“Who?”
“My charge. My—” She closed her eyes tight and shook her head. “Your ghost. I was once her guardian until they transferred me. She found me someone who could hear me.”
“You mean the spirit who’s been possessing me?”
“It was the only way she could make you move.”
“Maybe you should have a little chat with her the next time you see her. I think she had a little fun at my expense while she was at it.”
The angel slumped. “I’m sorry. She was always fond of tricks, even when she was alive. I’m sure she didn’t mean any harm. Really. Please don’t be upset with her.”
“It’s all right. No need to apologize.” Belle wasn’t angry. Anger wasn’t worth her energy when she had so many other things to fret about. Steven, for instance.
“Wild guess,” Hannah said. “You’re probably not like the angels we know.”
“There are many kinds. Some have always been angels. Some were made into angels to do some job in this realm.”
“And you’re the latter.”
She nodded.
“Well, what’s your name?” Hannah asked. “You don’t need to tell us anything else tonight, but we should know what to call you. If you don’t give us a name, the guys around here will probably make one up for you and it might not be flattering.” She cut a glare to Steven who barely even shrugged at the insult.
He was really off. Normally he would have had a retort for sure.
Belle stuffed a hand into his back pocket and gave his ass a squeeze. Wake up, Mr. Sass.
No reaction.
Not good.
“The name I go by now is Dawn,” the angel said. “I suppose it’s less of a mouthful than my last one, so I don’t push back too much.”
“Dawn, it is,” Hannah said. “I don’t know if angels need sleep, but go home with these ladies and try to get some rest. We’ll check in later to see if you’re up for answering some questions.”
Steven held out his hand to Belle again.
She gave him the keys without comment and pulled her other hand from his pocket. “Not sure how you’re going to fit with those wings, Dawn. You want to try front seat or back?”
Picking at her cuticles, Dawn looked first at the bucket seat in the front and then the bench in the back. “I’ve never been in one of these. When I was changed, horses were still the favored mode of transport.”
“How long ago was that?” Lily muttered low.
She should have known that everyone around—save Steven—would have had decent enough hearing to pick up her voice.
Dawn turned to her, shedding a few feathers in the process. “1906.”
Lily nodded and whispered, “Of course. 1906.”
“I bet now you wish you’d stayed home, huh?” Belle asked Lily as Dawn studied the seating configuration of the vehicle more closely.
“Only because I think this ordeal is going to break my brain.”
“You’ll be all right,” Hannah said.
Dawn squeezed into the backseat, sloughing off a few mangled feathers in the process.
Lily maneuvered in after her, perching on the edge of the seat to avoid sitting on Dawn’s right wing, which didn’t seem to be hanging quite right.
Belle hoped Ellery could figure out how to fix it. She couldn’t imagine getting the angel to town and behind an X-ray screen.
Hannah closed the car door and walked Belle several paces away from the car.
“I could keep him here tonight,” Hannah whispered and stared toward the hellmouth. The others had dispersed to Sean’s house or home with Ellery. “He’s on autopilot. I can remind him that he’s done babysitting you.”
“But who’s going to babysit him?” Belle asked.
“Are you volunteering?”
“I don’t see where I have a choice.”
“Of course you have choices. You could tell him to fuck off, and he’ll tell you ‘gladly’ and go home tomorrow.”
Belle shifted her weight and stole a glance over her shoulder and into the car.
Steven was staring straight ahead through the windshield and gripping the steering wheel as if for dear life. He wasn’t paying them any attention as far as she could tell.
“I don’t want him to go home,” Belle whispered.
“What does that mean?”
Belle shrugged. “Do I need to ask your permission to keep him?”
Hannah scrunched her nose. “No, but with me being his sister, I’d question why you want to.”
“I just do.”
“You’ve got to give me a better answer than that and not the Cougar bullshit, either.”
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you. The Cougar bullshit is a big part of it. I would leave him alone, probably, if it weren’t for that.”
“But ...”
“I just want him. I don’t want to leave him alone. It’s hard to explain the compulsion to you—to put it into words—because you weren’t born like this and don’t have the same impulses. When I look at him, I want to grab him by the collar and drag him into my cave. Not just that, but I want to roll a rock against the entrance so nothing gets in and he can’t get out. I want him completely dependent on me until he admits he can’t live without me.”
Hannah cringed. “Yikes, Cougar chicks are weird. Every single one of you.”
Belle scoffed. “Yep. We’re pretty wicked. Can you imagine what the second generation of Cougars was like? The first ones born of the men Lola turned?”
Hannah shook her head hard. “I don’t want to imagine it. My dreams are gory enough as it is without adding new fodder. Listen, I’ll call in the morning and let you know the plan. If you don’t hear from me, call Ellery. The longer it takes for us to call, though, the better.”
“Because it’ll mean shit didn’t immediately hit the fan.”
“Exactly.”
“Try to keep the shit from the fan, then. It might take me a while to roll that rock into place.”
Hannah chuckled and started toward the houses. “Shit. This adventure keeps getting wilder and wilder.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Steven wasn’t entirely sure how he’d ended up in Belle’s bed.
He remembered parts of the drive back to town from the Double B ranch, although admittedly, his mind had been elsewhere. He remembered musing about Dawn’s difficulty in extracting herself from the car and how she couldn’t be soothed until Lily had tightly bound her—spasming wings and all—with a blanket and settled her onto the sofa. Apparently, being still made Dawn nervous, and Lily had thought that since swaddling worked on babies who couldn’t control their nervous impulses, perhaps it’d work on high-strung angels, too.
Maybe some angels didn’t need sleep, but Dawn had gone out like a light on the sofa with Lily rubbing her singed hair.
Steven could even remember Alex coming out of her bedroom, half-asleep but wild-eyed, to assess the situation. Belle had escorted her back, explaining she’d tell her everything later.
But he didn’t remember taking off most his clothes—he was down to his boxers and undershirt—and climbing into Belle’s bed, and he certai
nly didn’t remember her climbing in with him.
He should have remembered that, since she apparently slept in next to nothing. Not that he was complaining.
She was sprawled at a diagonal angle across the bed with her feet at the far corner and her head resting on his chest.
She’d obviously been awake for a while. She was reading some sort of magazine on a tablet computer.
“What time is it?” he asked. His voice sounded like his throat had engaged in mortal combat with a meat grinder and the meat grinder won. Must have been from all the smoke inhalation.
She set down her tablet and rolled off of him. “Almost one. Are you hungry?” She rested on her belly and propped her chin atop her fists.
He closed his eyes and rubbed them. “One o’clock. Shit.”
“No need to hurry to get up. Hannah and the gang are keeping things hush-hush until some of the dust settles.”
“The angel dust?”
Belle groaned. “Lily’s taking care of her. Ellery stopped by earlier to splint up her wings, and they’re already looking better. She’ll probably be able to pull them in soon. And of course, the weirdo collective wants to know what we saw.”
Damn.
Steven’s body started shaking with the laugh he couldn’t quite force out.
Belle pressed a hand to his chest, and for some damn reason, he stopped moving. Stopped spasming.
“It’s all right if you don’t want to say anything,” she said softly. “I remember everything. And also, I have this.”
She rolled toward the nightstand and plucked a few tri-folded papers off it.
“What’s that?”
“It’s a letter Jill sent to me. There’s some information in there not only about Los Impostores, but also the Sheehans and ... well, she explains what happened to her mate. How he died. I guess she needed a confessional, and she didn’t want Mason to think she was skipping out on her responsibilities to Nick. She just needed some space from it all. I can’t blame her. It was a lot to keep secret.”
She handed it to him, and he squinted at the nearly unintelligible scrawl. Jill’s handwriting seemed to vacillate from careful and legible to childish scribbles. Belle must have guessed the cause of his furrowed brow, because she said, “After a few paragraphs, you get used to it.”