by Dima Zales
Michael nodded once. “For what it’s worth, your form was excellent.”
Luka snorted. “Don’t need your compliments. What is it ya wanna know?”
Michael exhaled and the tension in his body finally relaxed. “Jordan and I have been observing extremely unusual soul traffic in this city. We encountered a large group of ghosts in the park, some from completely different states. They have no recollection as to why they traveled so far or why they felt compelled to come here. We believe that a holy item is involved.”
Luka paused. “There’s been rumor that the boss has something new in the works. Not quite as grand as stealing an angel’s body, either.”
I made a scornful noise in the back of my throat. “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific than that.”
Luka switched his gaze to me instead. “He said he wants to create something, rather than take what was never his to begin with. Ya can quote me on that. Ya said something about the ghosts being drawn to one spot, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well right there, you’re lookin’ at something small. The larger holy items affect the living and the dead. If it’s only affecting the ghosts so far, it’ll be something that’s connected to death. Most likely, it’s something like the True Cross.”
I gaped. “The Cross Jesus Christ was crucified on?”
Luka nodded. “The very same.”
“But I thought it was never recovered.”
“It wasn’t. But that don’t mean someone didn’t find a piece of it.”
I glanced up at Michael, who wore a deeply worried expression. “Is that really possible?”
“Perhaps. Last I heard, the True Cross was destroyed in order to prevent either side from utilizing it. However, I did not oversee its destruction. It was entrusted to one of the twelve disciples. If he was not careful enough, a piece may have survived.”
Michael nodded to Luka once more. “Thank you for the information.”
Luka shrugged. “Thanks for the fight. It’s been ages since I’ve gotten my ass handed to me. Pretty refreshing.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Are all demons psychotic, violent perverts?”
Luka tossed me a feral grin. “Only the lucky ones. Later, love.”
He knocked twice on the door to the bar and it opened, leaving us alone in the alley to absorb what he’d told us.
Michael scooped up his leather jacket and said nothing, instead heading back the way we came. It wasn’t until we reached our hotel room that he spoke. “If Luka was right, then we’re going to be on high alert for an attack. Satan does not directly interfere on Earth, and that most likely means he’ll be sending Mulciber or Belial along to do his dirty work.”
I rooted through my suitcase for the small First-Aid kit I’d packed. “And if all of this is going down in New Jersey the week we just so happen to be here, then that probably means it has something to do with me, doesn’t it?”
Michael sighed. “Probably.”
“I figured as much.” I walked over and pushed him so that he sat down. He stared up at me in question. I pointed to his left cheek where a small cut lay beneath his eye.
“You’re injured.”
“It’ll heal by itself.”
“Not if it’s infected. Hold still.” I poured a bit of alcohol on a cotton ball and pressed it to the wound. He winced a bit. Maybe he’d been sucking it up.
“That was pretty impressive. Remind me to never pick a fight with you.”
“Not that you don’t do it anyway.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, don’t even go there. You give me lip all the time and yet you threatened to dismember a man for touching me.”
He scowled, looking away as I opened a Band-Aid. “That’s different.”
“Sure it is.” I pressed the Band-Aid to his skin and dusted off my hands.
“Any other injuries I need to know about?”
“Not sure.” Before I could say anything, he yanked off his shirt and walked over to the bathroom mirror. I cleared my throat and concentrated on putting the small pack of cotton balls neatly back into the First Aid kit. If I ignored the shirtlessness, maybe it wouldn’t affect me. Maybe.
“Mm. Doesn’t look too bad,” Michael noted. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him touching a couple of bruises on his perfect washboard abs. Er, his abs. Pay attention, Amador, he’s talking to you.
“He was tougher than he looked.”
“Well, if he actually lived in Australia at some point, he had to learn how to fight. Everything on the continent tries to kill you.” I closed the kit and setting it aside to dig deeper in the suitcase. Later tonight would be my second not-date with Terrell and I had packed an outfit in case Michael and I went to dinner somewhere nice. Or so I thought.
When I got to the bottom of the suitcase, I didn’t find a modest burgundy dress with sensible straps and a high neckline. What I found instead was the slinkiest, revealing-est, attention-getting-est black dress I had ever seen in my life.
“What. The hell. Is this?!” I seethed. The Neiman Marcus tag was still on it. I had never set foot in a Neiman Marcus store in my life. But I knew someone who did. Someone busty, Korean, and annoyingly forward.
Michael gave me a confused look. “What’s wrong?”
“This is not the dress I packed. This is the kind of dress you wear when you want to get molested on the ride home from prom!” I shouted, shaking the dress with emphasis.
Michael coughed, attempting to hide a chuckle, and walked over to examine it. “How’d it get in there?”
“My ex-best friend. She must have repacked my suitcase before we left,” I grumbled, tossing the offensive article of clothing on the bed in defeat. I didn’t have enough money left to get a different dress and I wasn’t going to ask Michael for any. He’d done enough for me already. Meaning I’d have to squeeze into this thing and be Terrell’s arm candy for the night.
“What exactly is the problem anyway? Why do you even need a dress?”
I hesitated. I forgot that I hadn’t told Michael about the not-date tonight. Fantastic. “Oh. Terrell invited me out again tonight to escort him to some black tie affair.”
Michael stared at me. I fidgeted. “Stop that.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“Yes you are. You’re mentally judging me.”
He frowned. “How would you know that unless you subconsciously knew you were doing something unwise?”
I crossed my arms beneath my chest. “I don’t have to answer that question. It’s not a big deal. It’s one stupid event. We’ll be leaving Jersey soon enough and it won’t matter anyway.”
“You heard what Luka said. Something is going to happen soon. Do you really want to be out on your own tonight when Belial or Mulciber could be hiding around any corner?”
I glared at him. “I can take care of myself, Michael.”
“No one’s asking you to!” he yelled, making me jump. The angel turned away, raking his hand through his hair with a haggard sigh.
“Look, Jordan, you’re not alone any more. It’s my job to protect you while I’m here and I can’t do that if you keep pushing me away.”
“That’s the problem, Michael,” I shot back. “You have more responsibilities to your boss than you do to me. You taught me how to defend myself, how to heal myself, and that should be good enough. You can’t keep babysitting one little human when you have an entire cosmos to worry about.”
He faced me again, those green eyes boring into mine as if he could see straight through me. “Are you saying you want me to leave?”
My chest tightened. I hadn’t expected him to say that. I bit my bottom lip, glancing away. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Then what do you mean?”
“Since when have I ever known what the hell I mean?”
He touched my right cheek, making me face him. “You do when it counts.”
Staring up at him, shirtless, vulnerable, and wounded, I felt like I couldn�
�t breathe. He had a knack for picking my walls apart brick by brick. It bothered me.
He took a step closer, casting a shadow over me.
“Stop,” I mumbled, fixing my eyes on the floor. He brushed a lock of hair behind my ear, sliding his warm hand to lift my chin so I’d have to look at him.
“Stop what?” he murmured.
“Looking at me.”
“Why?”
“That’s how Terrell used to look at me before we kissed.”
His lips parted to say something but I pushed past him, gathering up my duster from where it lay on the bed next to the dress.
“Get dressed. We have more ghosts to help.”
23
In the three hours before I had to be ready for the event, we managed to cross two of the ghosts over to the other side. They were both locals of the area and had relatively simple final wishes. It didn’t do us much good, though, because we found another two ghosts not soon after—one of which had come from Canada. Michael called Gabriel again and he told us he would meet us at the hotel later tonight to discuss what we were going to do. Thus far, the plan would involve trying to find the sliver of the True Cross—whether the demons had gotten their hands on it or not. I didn’t like that plan. We needed a new one. There was no telling what they could do with that kind of power.
The silence in the hotel room was thick, stifling, and uncomfortable when I came out of the bathroom in the Slinky dress. Luckily, the back didn’t dip down low enough to expose the bra band or the scars. Through the grace of God, I had managed to work the tiny blow dryer attached to the wall so my black hair was fluffy and glossy around my shoulders. I never wore it down except for special occasions. Lauren said it made me look girlier, which was why I rarely did it.
I could feel Michael’s eyes on me like twin points of heat on my spine as I slipped the rosary around my neck. He had every reason to be upset with my leaving, and I knew that, but it didn’t change my decision. To be honest, I didn’t want to go all that badly. I merely wanted to close the chapter on Terrell in the most definitive way I knew how. This way, we would have a real goodbye instead of me running out of his life like a coward.
“The dress looks good.” Michael’s voice was measured. I could only imagine what he actually thought, and thinking about it made me even more uncomfortable than I already was.
“Thank you.”
“So I don’t suppose I need to repeat the fact that this is a bad idea.”
I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. “Nope.”
“Good to know.” His tone overflowed with irritation. I thought about explaining the closure issue to him, but I’d feel silly saying it out loud. Instead, I put the finishing touches to my eyeliner and capped it, tossing it in my purse.
“Are you done?”
“I suppose I am.”
I zipped the purse in one quick motion. “Y’know, this passive-aggressive shit is getting kind of old, Michael.”
“Is it? Would you prefer the direct approach?”
I crossed my arms beneath my chest. “And what’s that?”
Michael stood, walking until he towered over me, though not as much as usual because I was wearing high heels. “I could make you stay here if I wanted to.”
I shrugged, feigning indifference. “Go ahead, big man. No one’s stopping you.”
He snorted, shaking his head. “Always have to have the last word, don’t you?”
“It’s one of my best traits,” I sneered, snatching up the purse and heading for the door.
He called after me. “I thought the dinner wasn’t until seven o’clock.”
I paused with my hand on the doorknob. “It’s six-forty-five. I’m gonna need a drink before the night’s over. Don’t wait up.”
I slammed the door behind me, heading for the back of the building that led out into an alley and down to a local bar. The night air was cool rather than cold, soothing the tension flowing through my skin. I kicked the door shut and exhaled, standing in the dimly lit alley and trying to figure out why I had a lump in the back of my throat. We had a fight. Big deal. It was perfectly normal. Okay, that was a lie. Most people wouldn’t manage to piss off an angel who was trying to protect them. I needed to apologize when I came back. He liked chocolate. Maybe I’d get him a Lindt bar as a peace offering. Hi, honey, sorry I made you mad by running off to a party with my ex-boyfriend to avoid thinking about how you’re getting under my skin.
I choked on a laugh at that last thought. “He’s gonna kill me for this.”
I began walking down the alley, my heels clicking a funky staccato down the corridor, when I felt an itching tightness between my shoulders as if someone were watching me. I glanced behind me, only to be greeted by darkness and the distant wail of sirens. I turned and kept walking, this time a little faster, but the same tense sensation continued. I stopped.
All at once, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I no longer had the sneaking suspicion that something was watching me—I knew it. Cold sweat gathered on the small of my back and the itchy sensation of fear mixed with adrenaline hummed beneath my skin.
As if on cue, I heard a low growl seeping outward from the dark corner of the alley behind me. Probably a stray dog. No need to panic.
Squaring my shoulders, I turned around with a harsh expression on my face, prepared to out-stare the animal, and simply froze in place. The pair of eyes glaring at me from the shadows were a bright, almost hellish red. Last time I checked, dogs didn’t have glowing eyes.
Its claws scraped against the concrete as it approached and finally walked into the dim light overhead. I had been half-right. The thing was shaped like a dog, but it was unlike any canine I’d ever seen. On all four limbs, it had to be at least four feet tall and was covered from head to toe in shaggy black fur. Saliva dripped from its open jaws in globs, framing the razor sharp fangs. It almost distracted me from the acrid smell of sulfur that permeated the air and the steam that appeared to be rising from its very skin. There was no doubt in my mind that this thing had been sent specifically for me. I was damn sure it was not of this world. I’d fought one of these things before.
It was a hellhound.
I swallowed to wet my suddenly-dry throat as the muscles coiled around the beast’s shoulders when it prepared to attack. Well, being scared wasn’t going to do me any good. Tossing off the cumbersome purse around my shoulders, I clenched my hands into fists and drew my energy out from where it rested inside me. My mouth formed an unpleasant smile.
“Alright, Scooby. Come get some.”
Snarling, the beast lunged straight for me in a deadly arc.
“In the name of the Father, I reject!”
The hound smashed into me with what felt like the force of a Mack truck, taking me right off my feet. I slammed into the ground on my back, hands blocking my upper body. The shield had worked. The creature snapped at me with its huge jaws, but an invisible force kept it from touching me. Still, it had me pinned beneath its huge body and the shield wouldn’t hold forever. I needed a plan and fast.
Grimacing, I summoned as much strength as I could and shoved my arms up into the thing’s face. The shield forced it several feet away from me. The hound scuttled against the ground to get back on its feet. It gave me a couple of seconds to think. I needed to be on the offense.
I split my shield into several shards the way Michael had taught me and threw out my hands.
“Strike!”
One shard flew through the air like an arrow just as the creature raced towards me. The attack sliced down the right side of its body, spilling black blood onto the ground, but it kept coming. I threw myself to the side too late as it jumped at me. Its claws scored deep scratches across my right arm. Pain lanced through me as if I’d been burned with a red-hot poker. Shit!
The hound regrouped, rushing me again. I threw another two shards at it, this time slashing its left front paw and part of its spine. The beast stumbled as it ran but still crashed into me. I hit the
ground again, knocking the air out of my lungs, too stunned to put up another shield. The hound snapped at my face but I rolled, crying out as one of its paws grazed my stomach before I could get away.
I felt something wooden beneath my shoulder. I glanced downward at the pile of trash I’d fallen into and found a broken broom handle. As the hellhound prepared for its final attack, I ripped the cross off my neck and shoved it into the tip of the splintered wood. The hound leapt, razor-sharp teeth aiming for my throat. I thrust the handle up into its massive chest.
The improvised stake pierced its shaggy hide and a sharp hissing sound emitted from where the cross buried itself in its insides. The hound convulsed in its death throes, still trying to bite me. My arms were too busy holding the stake to stop it from biting one side of my neck. I cried out again as its fangs scraped my skin, spilling blood. Just when I thought it would tear out my throat, two impossibly strong hands wrapped around its jaws and pulled them apart until I heard the loud snap of its skull cracking.
The great creature went limp and collapsed beside me, dead. In seconds, it disintegrated into ashes, leaving a steaming black stain on the ground. Michael reached down and helped me up, his face losing its righteous fury to give way to concern. It wasn’t until I was standing unsteadily on my feet that I realized he had rushed out of a shower to help me. He was clad only in a towel. Huh. Interesting.
“You’re hurt,” he said, green eyes raking over my form.
I managed to shrug. “You’re naked.”
Ignoring me, he tugged my uninjured left arm across his shoulder and carefully walked me back inside. Naturally, the gouges didn’t start hurting until we got in the rear entrance of the hotel, on account of the air conditioning. The adrenaline had worn off, leaving me shaky and scared shitless. Still, I managed to keep it together as Michael slid the key card in the door with his left hand, his right still wrapped securely around my waist to hold me steady.
“How’d you know I was in trouble?” I asked.
“I felt the hellhound’s presence. Whenever something with energy from Heaven or Hell is on Earth, the angels sense their presence,” Michael told me. The door opened and he helped me inside, kicking it shut and hurriedly settling me down on the bed. He grabbed one of the fresh white towels on the sink and wet it. He knelt in front of me and began cleaning the wounds.