Claire was trying to avoid my anger, thinking it would bother me if they hugged in front of me. I almost snapped out that we weren’t in grade school any longer, but thought better of it.
She meant well.
They reached me and then stood in silence, bringing their icky awkwardness with them. I let out a deep breath, realizing I hadn’t shared my experience in the hut, and that I hadn’t asked Beckett about his. But we had time for that later. Right now, I needed to see Roland.
“I need to go back. Something has come up,” I lied.
Beckett nodded. “I’d rather hitch a ride with you than try walking back or living with these guys for the next few months. They don’t seem in a rush to do… well, anything.”
Claire shot him a playful punch in the arm. Then she resumed her awkward shift from foot to foot, sensing the dark cloud around me but not wanting to pry in case she was at fault. I held out my arms and she almost let out a sob as she barreled into me. I smiled, inhaling the scent of her hair as I hugged her back. “Take care of yourself and try not to kill them. It will only make more work for you as their medic,” I said.
She stepped back, wiping her nose quickly. “I’m sure we’ll be back soon. I can’t wait to be back in the land of the toilet paper,” she said, face serious.
Beckett coughed, smart enough not to comment. Without further ado, I opened a Gateway back to my apartment in Kansas City, not wanting to appear anywhere public out of thin air. The ring of sparks caused some grunts from the nearby bears, but I stepped through without acknowledging them. Beckett followed and we waved one last time to Claire before I closed it.
I breathed in the familiar scent of candles. Home. I turned to Beckett, feeling slightly uncomfortable. I wasn’t mad at him because he hadn’t done anything wrong. But I wished he hadn’t seemed so open to Claire’s flirtations. My rationality was locked in the basement.
But that didn’t matter. I had the prerogative and natural right as a woman to not have to explain myself – even to myself.
I was angry. Fact. But not at him or Claire. Fact. At… myself, I guessed.
Beckett must have sensed something on my face. “You okay?” he asked, taking a step closer. I could smell his natural scent. It was clean, but sharper from the sweat in the hut. We also reeked of shifter peyote.
I nodded quickly. “I’m fine. Just…” I struggled for an excuse. “The drugs messed with me more than I thought. Just want to check up on some things and then sleep it off.”
He nodded, not seeming to buy it, but not challenging it either. “Okay. If you need anything, I’m here.” He waited a few seconds for me to change my mind, but I just stood there. The brief image of him ripping my coat and shirt off entered my mind and I almost squeaked.
Not knowing what else to do, I ushered him to the door. He watched me as he left, sensing the tension in the air. “Look, Callie,” he began after stepping into the hallway. “You said something came up. If you need any help, please call me.”
I nodded stiffly, trying not to slam the door in his face or jump his bones in the hall. What the hell was wrong with me? “Thanks, but I’ll be fine.”
The door clicked closed and I leaned against it, breathing heavily in order to calm myself. Beckett wasn’t mine. I hadn’t made any advances on him. It hadn’t ever really crossed my mind. He was a good catch, but I hadn’t considered him as dating material. I had promised to someday help him find his wife’s killer for crying out loud. Subconsciously, that must have put him in the dreaded friend zone.
We had spent a lot of time around each other lately since I’d been trying to catch him up to speed on my world – a crash course in the supernatural. We flirted occasionally, but it was more for fun than anything else. Because I knew he was a widower and had loved his wife like fire.
But all our time together had done something to me, and I had apparently been too close to realize what I was feeling for him. Even now, I wasn’t sure I wanted anything more.
But seeing Claire suddenly take an animalistic interest in him, and then serving as his naked spirit guide had bothered me greatly.
But the other thing that bothered me about it all was that a part of me was smitten with a man in St. Louis. Nate Temple.
Now that was a grenade waiting to go off, if our last meetings were any warning. I had kept him at bay, wanting to learn more about myself, my past, my powers, and he’d had plenty on his plate when we first met. But now? It seemed like he was almost in vacation mode, and I couldn’t blame him. We’d grabbed dinner recently to catch up and I had been too stunned to eat. Killing a God, having two almost immortal Makers chasing him down, learning that his own past had been a carefully crafted lie – and that his own loved ones had been behind that lie…
Well, you could say he had deserved a little rest and relaxation.
Now, rest and relaxation for Nate wasn’t the typical vacation for most. I’d heard that he was still kicking ass – just in a less world-ending way.
I realized I was smiling and muttered under my breath, walking away from the door.
Nate was hot as shit. Powerful as all hell, and although a perfect gentleman when he wanted to be, he was a renegade, a rebel, and I enjoyed that. He was the best kind of crazy – loyal and dependable when the war was on. Calm and lazy as a cat when it wasn’t. But did I want that kind of chaos? Especially with our similar powerbase? Him as a Horseman in training and me as… well, whatever I was. In summary, I didn’t trust myself around him. Like gasoline and a match.
Beckett, on the other hand, was also handsome as hell, smart, clever, and almost too rational to feel fear. Well, he had mastered fear. If something scared him, he quickly found a way to overcome that fear. Not letting it control him. Like finding out about the magical world. He’d accepted the facts with an open mind, and then asked what he needed to know. Unflappable. He was dependable in the other kind of way – steadfast, loyal, and trustworthy. Without the chaos factor. In fact, you could say Beckett Killian was the long-term kind of dating option, where Nate was the bad boy who may or not be able to be housebroken.
And both men had dark relationships in their past. Nate’s ex had faced too much power too quickly and had been taken advantage of by those who promised to keep her safe, starting a war.
Beckett’s wife had been killed, and now that he was aware of my world – monsters and magic – he was pretty confident that she had been murdered by something from my side of the fence. He hadn’t yet wanted to talk about it, but I had promised to help him look into it at some point.
I wondered why he hadn’t asked me about it yet. It had been months since I had killed the second demon in town, so he’d had ample time. Maybe…
He was having fun with me, seeing me as more than a friend, and hadn’t wanted to bring his murdered wife between us…
I realized I was smiling and slapped my cheeks lightly. I decided to shower later. Now was time to see if Roland could help me remember my vision quest. Girl stuff could wait.
I readied myself to Shadow Walk to Abundant Angel Catholic Church, but a sudden knock at my apartment door made me flinch, almost jumping out of my skin.
I peered through the peephole of my apartment door, expecting Beckett. I stepped back, frowning. Then I checked again. Yep. They were real.
I glanced in the direction of my weapons room, seriously weighing the pros and cons of murdering a few impatient Nephilim. I’d only met one of them before, a black guy with dreads named Alyksandre – I had actually booted him out of the church months ago. The other guy didn’t look important in his own right. I spotted an old bag of sliced bread on the counter and a devilish grin split my cheeks. I grabbed it and returned to the door, opening it a crack.
Alyksandre smiled pleasantly. “Callie, we need to—”
“Shoo,” I hissed, tossing the bag at him. Then I slammed the door, checking the peephole. He stared down at the bag, his mouth still open. His lips thinned and he rapped on the door again.
�
�Hilarious. Tossing bread at pigeons. Ha. Ha. Ha. Can you please just open the door?”
With a tortured sigh, I complied, flashing him my best glare and ignoring his pal.
“I really, really don’t have the time or patience for this sh—”
The hallway flashed with blindingly white light as they grabbed me.
Chapter 11
I found myself in a greasy spoon diner across the table from an Angel and two thugs. Well, I assumed it was an Angel, with my having just been abducted by the two Nephilim sitting on either side of him like guard dogs. I had only met Alyksandre up to now, but his pal looked like a real hard ass – pale hair pulled back in a tail and the sides shaved. Stubble covered his cheeks, and his eyes were flecks of greenish blue. His knuckles were scarred and although he looked tough, he also looked green.
The place smelled of coffee, cigarettes, and pancakes. Yum.
The man between the two Nephilim was tall with a long, narrow face and triple-cleft chin. His wavy blonde hair brushed the top of his black trench coat. Underneath he wore a tee with a picture of Jesus on it. The caption below the picture made me cough: I never said that – Jesus.
The man wore sunglasses.
I glanced out the wall of windows beside me before turning back to him. I placed my head in my palms. It was either that or begin thumping my head against the cheap stained table between us. Patrons had actually used the table itself to extinguish their cigarettes over the years, so I didn’t want to touch it with my head. No head thumping, then.
“You must be Angel the Angel,” I finally mumbled, looking back up at him.
He gave me a slow nod, not finding the absurdity in the chosen name. “How did you know?”
“My first hint was the two Nephilim that just abducted me. But the real kicker is that only an Angel named Angel would be the kind of douche to wear sunglasses at night.”
“It’s a disguise. What is a douche?” Alyksandre’s eyes tightened with anxiety, but Angel didn’t notice, cocking his head at me.
I lowered my head to one palm, propping my elbow on the table as I muttered to myself. “I can’t do this… I can’t do this…” I casually held out my other hand to the side and began snapping my fingers in an irregular rhythm, fast and then slow. Double. Pause. Single snap.
“You haven’t even heard why I summoned you here.” he said, frowning. “What is it you think you can’t do?” In my peripheral vision, the three sets of eyes took in my snapping fingers, and I could see their jaws beginning to clench in both thinly veiled annoyance and curiosity.
“I meant that I can’t deal with you right now,” I said, forehead still in my palm. “Mommy needs some wine, and the naked toddler keeps riding his invisible dinosaur around the kitchen screaming Old McDonald Had a Farm as loud as possible.” Snap. Snap. Snap, I continued.
They were silent so I looked back up. The three of them stared at me as if I was drunk.
I smiled back, still snapping erratically as I lowered my other hand below the table, concentrating. This next part was dicey. “That look. That’s exactly what I feel right now. You have no idea what my statement meant so you have no idea how to respond. That’s how I feel around you guys.”
Angel stared at me for a few minutes, eyes actually twitching at the snapping sound now. He hadn’t noticed the magic under the table, too distracted by the constant snapping of my fingers. He leaned forward. “You belong with us, working for me, not the Vatican. You have been marked, you have our blood.”
“Not going to happen. We just met.” I felt like sweat was popping out on my forehead as I concentrated below the table, stretching. “And I already don’t like your HR Department.”
“Would you stop that?” he hissed.
“Why?” I asked, sounding bored. Stretch…
“Why are you doing it?” he asked, grinding his teeth at each snap of my fingers.
I shrugged. “Keeps me grounded.” It was an effort to talk, I was concentrating so hard under the table. I needed this. Badly.
“You are going to work for us. Where you belong,” he commanded.
“Nah,” I said lazily, forcing a yawn. I was going to pass out soon. My vision was already tunneling as I worked beneath the table. Almost there…
“It wasn’t a question,” he snarled. The smell of burnt plastic filled the air, the table melting underneath his fingertips.
I stopped snapping my fingers, a slow smile stretching over my face as I finished my spell. I was almost ready to pass out, but I kept the exhaustion from my voice. “Ah, that’s better. Now, here’s how this is going to work. I will make my own decisions. Or the silver blade beneath the table will impale you. One wrong move and you die. Right here, right now. In this shitty diner.”
All three froze, wanting to scoot back but respecting my resolve. Angel flicked his eyes down at his lap and saw the silver blade I had extended right up to his stomach, almost touching him. Using my Heavenly magic had been a gamble, but that’s why I had been snapping my fingers. A distraction. I knew he wasn’t very familiar with my world, thanks to talking with Nate, and would be bothered by the erratic clicking of my fingers to the point he might overlook my magic.
It had worked. Angel was watching me very intensely, his eyes seeming to spark. He looked… surprised. Hooray.
“I’m leaving. Try to stop me and we all die here,” I warned.
The two Nephilim just stared at me, furious. Angel gave a subtle jerk of his chin. “One week.”
“Whatever,” I muttered.
“You have heard the Whispers…” he added. I froze, something about the way he had said it made my skin crawl. He didn’t move, but the look of surprise was turning into a hungry, anticipatory smirk. I could tell he was already calculating how to use my ability to his benefit. From the sudden flinch of his Nephilim, I realized this Whisper business was news to them, too.
“I hear whispers all the time…” I waved a hand, trying not to squirm.
He shook his head. “Not like this. They will aid you, but they come with a price. Free will doesn’t always lead down a good path.”
“What are you talking about?”
His eyes flicked down to the silver blade again. “They helped you. You listened to them. Fed them. They are of Heaven. The power of Angels.” He leaned forward, careful not to impale himself. “Both light and dark Angels. Be very, very careful with what they tell you, Miss Penrose.” Then he leaned back again, smiling smugly. “I think we’re going to have a lot of excitement soon. In about one week, to be exact. I can’t wait.”
“What do you know of my father?” my voice sounded like a sword leaving a sheath.
His grin grew anticipatory. “When do you start working for me?”
I kept my face blank, but I almost shoved the blade into his gut. I glanced at the two Nephilim beside him, making sure they understood what had just happened. Extortion from an Angel. “Be careful who you choose to follow.” Their faces slackened, realizing they had been placed in a very awkward situation. Acknowledge me and piss off their boss, or defend their boss and admit they were okay with his tactics.
Angel’s eyes sparked, but he didn’t speak. The two Nephilim looked like they would rather be anywhere else but here.
I’d had enough. Before they could change their minds, or before I rationalized killing the lot of them, I Shadow Walked out of the diner, stumbling as I landed. Then I let out a relieved breath as I studied the familiar walls of the training room beneath Abundant Angel Catholic Church. Whispers? What the hell was he talking about? Was that what I had heard in Alaska? Something to do with my silver powers? I thought it had been the wind, or my imagination.
I’d been practicing my new power for a little while now, but the whispers were entirely new. I hadn’t ever heard them before tonight. What did that mean? I shook my head, muttering angrily.
I had to admit that I was stunned by the Angel. Deliberately withholding information from me to get me to work for him? An agent of Heaven usin
g extortion? What the hell kind of world did I live in? At least he had made my answer easy enough, not that I had any intention of working for him before the meeting, but at least I had no guilt about it now.
I didn’t have time for Angel’s strong-arm shit. Especially when he hadn’t bothered to help me fight a demon several months ago. Actions spoke louder than words, and I had never done well with authority. I wasn’t going to have a serious discussion with this particular Angel until I had met the one in St. Louis, Eae, the Demon Thwarter. Nate said he vouched for him, and that he would give me the unvarnished truth. I would ask him about these Whispers. I wasn’t about to make a deal without knowing everything at stake.
I didn’t want to work for the Nephilim. I didn’t want to work for anyone.
But it looked like I needed to have a meeting with Eae sooner rather than later, because the Angel in Kansas City seemed entirely too interested in me, and pretty soon I would be forced into a decision – and its consequences.
I was understandably proud that I had managed to use my new magic for something productive. Making a silver sword right under his nose. Had I heard any Whispers? I couldn’t recall, so shrugged it off. Later.
Chapter 12
Part of me considered my casual use of magic. Rather than jogging or driving places lately, I had relied more and more on my magical means of travel.
Gateways could be opened between two locations, creating a flaming, sparking doorway through nothingness – ripping a hole in reality to connect two geographical places that typically didn’t touch. Imagine an ant needing to get from one end of a string to the other. Gateways were akin to pulling the two ends of the string together like a bridge rather than the ant walking the whole length of it.
Whispers: Feathers and Fire Book 3 Page 5