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by Catherine Lane


  “Who’s Yakum?” Claire asked.

  “Worst of the worst,” Tamiel answered.

  “There’ll be more?” Frankie gasped and looked wildly around the room as if she expected the monsters to appear on the spot.

  “Don’t worry,” Tamiel said before Claire could even fashion a response. “They come in threes, so we have time before he recruits another set.”

  “For what?” Frankie wrung her hands. “To figure out how to die? What if you hadn’t been here? What if I had been alone?” Tears welled in her eyes.

  She wasn’t wrong. So many times, here and in the alley, the fight could’ve gone the other way. It almost had. Claire looked at her forearm; it was red and raw.

  “You can’t leave me alone.” Frankie shuddered.

  That much was true. Frankie had been unbelievably lucky that they had been here when the demons attacked. Carothann gave warning, of course, but the alarm system was built for a bad hookup in a frozen yogurt store, not a deadly creature from hell.

  “Can you take me someplace protected? Like a place where there’s more of you?” Frankie reached a hand out to Claire.

  “Ouch!” They all focused on Claire’s scalded forearm where Frankie’s hand had dropped.

  Frankie jerked it back immediately. “Oh God. I’m sorry. I—”

  “No worries. No worries. We’re all a little frazzled here.”

  Tears dropped from Frankie’s eyes.

  “Maybe there’s someplace I could take you,” Claire said, “that is a little more shielded.”

  Claire nodded to herself. There was, but Juliette wasn’t going to like it at all.

  Claire took a deep breath before she opened the door to the branch office. “Brace yourself. You’re the first human to enter these doors in…maybe forever.”

  “These doors? Isn’t this an abandoned building?” Frankie’s voice still sounded shaky. She had calmed down considerably since their demon encounter, but she wouldn’t stop wringing her hands. She had rushed Claire away from Tamiel as soon as Claire had laid out this crazy scheme. Before they’d had a chance to make plans to meet up again. Oh well, that was probably for the better.

  “Not an abandoned building. Look.” Claire pulled the doors open. The reception space was empty again. “Okay. You got me there. But there will be people in here.” Claire slid her injured arm behind her back and led the way down the hall.

  Everyone inside the staff room looked up the second they stepped through the door, and the hustle and bustle of the office died instantly.

  “Who are all these people?” Frankie sucked in a quick breath as the rest of the office continued to stare.

  “My colleagues waiting for their cases to be assigned. Other godmothers and godfathers. And that…” she pointed to Juliette, who stood in the doorway of her office, scowling. “…is my boss.” The smooth, slow tone of her voice surprised the hell out of her. Inside, she was a bundle of nerves. Could she trade on all her years of exemplary service with the FGC for this huge misstep?

  Juliette waved them over and quickly bustled them into her office. The muttering from the staff room began the instant the door closed. “What the hell, Claire!” The muscles around her mouth quivered. She was angrier than Claire had ever seen her.

  “Funny you should use that terminology. Before I explain, though, Juliette, this is your charge, Frankie. Frankie, this is Juliette, my superior and co-godmother in this case.”

  “I have two godmothers?” Frankie’s eyes went wide. “You have a wand too?”

  Juliette raised the Manzanita branch as an answer before she grabbed Claire’s good arm and dragged her to the far end of the desk. “I told you not to move further on this case until—” She shook her head and whispered, “What were you thinking?”

  “Look.” Claire twisted out of her grip. “You have no idea what it’s like out there right now. Carothann’s alarm went off. What else was I going to do?” Not exactly the whole truth, but she could get behind it.

  “Stop talking. Not with her in here. Are you insane?” Juliette flicked her wand. An intercom’s buzz filled the air. “Hugo, could you join us, please?”

  After a few silent moments, the young apprentice appeared at the door. He looked back and forth between them, before blowing out his cheeks and releasing his breath with a pop. “Yes?”

  “Hugo. This young human is Frankie. Would you be so kind as to take her into the break room and entertain her?”

  Hugo glanced over at Claire, who nodded quickly. “You can tell her that story about the clothes designer who missed out on his Prince Charming when the two of you couldn’t agree on his wardrobe.”

  Hugo nodded. “Oh, the day when a bolo tie ruined true love.”

  Claire was impressed he had gathered himself so quickly. Juliette’s glare would make most people buckle at the knees. Claire grabbed Frankie’s hands in hers and looked into the girl’s eyes. “Could you go with Hugo? Just for a few minutes.”

  “I’d rather stay here with you.” Frankie’s shoulders started to curl over her chest. “I don’t know him.”

  “You’ll be safe. This place is like Fort Knox.”

  Hugo stepped up, slid his hand under Frankie’s arm, and led her gently out of the room. “So my client wanted a bolo tie and…”

  The second Hugo left, her heart started pounding. This was her third meeting with Administration in less than twenty-four hours, and while Juliette couldn’t demote her on the spot, she did have the ears of Upper Administration who could. She glanced quickly to the case board. Her name still floated in curling, golden letters on two lines. But for how long?

  The crazy thing was, she had done nothing wrong. But she knew the FGC was only about the end game. And this case was exploding all around her.

  Juliette crossed her arms tightly over her chest and gave Claire a cold stare. “Okay. Now do you want to tell me why you brought our client in here?”

  “Yes.” She laid out her case in clear, even steps. She told Juliette everything—except when she got to the part about Carothann, a little voice in her head whispered, Not that. I’ll have to admit that I never took it to Wand Tech and that something is different. I don’t even think there is a form for what happened today.

  So she glossed over how the wand had found a new gear in the heat of the battle and left it at, “Somehow, I found a way to defeat the demon.”

  Juliette said nothing at the story’s end and simply rubbed her lips with the back of her fingers. “And how does the angel play into all of this?” she asked eventually.

  “She’s not after Frankie, if that’s what you’re asking. She had a bunch of chances to steal her from right under my nose, and she never made a move.”

  “She?”

  “She presents as female more than anything else. I don’t know why we ever called them it. That seems now to be shortsighted…”

  When Juliette’s brow began to furrow, she let her words drop. She needed to shut up. The prejudice ran deep, and this wasn’t the time to buck the system or explore her own new feelings.

  “You’ve done a pretty fast turnaround.”

  “I could be wrong.” Claire raised her hands, trying to placate Juliette. Her gut, and her heart if she was being honest, were telling her that she wasn’t. “And if Frankie’s here, a place where demons would have trouble getting in, that frees me up to try to figure out what is really going on here. Unless you got the story from Upper Administration.”

  Juliette shook her head. “No. No one is admitting to generating the case. They’re all passing the buck. That’s why you shouldn’t have brought her in here.”

  She’s freaking out. She’s afraid this whole case is going to come down on her head. Like Pierre. Claire needed to play this just right.

  “If you have a better idea?” she backtracked. “Of course, I will do whatever you want.�
��

  “No. Leaving her here is good.” She flicked Baltine. The conversation from the break room played in Juliette’s office as if someone had switched on a speaker.

  “And there was the case with the American actor who said he would never get married and the British lawyer who is all that. People think she was lucky to land him and that she was our client, but really it was the other way around. He just needed to see that he really wanted to get married. That’s what a good godfather can do.”

  “You were responsible for that?” Frankie’s voice rose in awe.

  A pause, and then Hugo said, “Yes. That was my case.”

  “He wishes that was his case.” Juliette rolled her eyes and grimaced. “He doesn’t even have a wand yet.”

  “He just needs to distract her,” Claire said loudly, trying to drown out whatever lie was flowing out of Hugo’s mouth now. “It sounds like he’s doing a pretty good job of that.”

  Juliette flicked her wand, and the conversation cut out. “Okay. This is what we’re going to do. Leave her here with me. You go to Medical. Now. You’re dripping blood all over my carpet.”

  Claire glanced down. Sure enough. A few beads of red stained the carpet. Her shoulder and arm throbbed.

  “Okay,” she said quickly. Getting out of there without a demotion had seemed like a long shot when she’d walked in.

  “I’ll get in touch with you first thing tomorrow morning and tell you how to proceed. Do not contact the angel or investigate on your own. Got it?”

  Claire nodded.

  “I’m serious, Claire. Upper Administration isn’t happy that you’re on a case no one has approved.”

  Claire swallowed hard. It wasn’t as if she had procured the case by herself. When had we turned into you?

  “You understand? Sit tight at home.”

  “I do.” Easy to say. She didn’t even know how to get in contact with Tamiel. But the thought of not seeing the angel again sent a strange tightness into her chest. She glanced down quickly, wondering if she had given her feelings away, but Juliette, lost in her own problems, was tapping her fingers on her desk.

  “Let me just say good-bye to Frankie, then.”

  “What? Frankie? No. Let’s not get her riled up. She’s good with Hugo, and I’ll get some burgers and keep her entertained for the night. Maybe some charades. She’s an actress, right?”

  “An artist. And eighteen, not six.”

  “Oh, even better. There are some colored pencils, I think, in the storeroom. And you?” She turned all her attention to Claire and pointed out of the office. “Off to Medical and then Filing. You’re way overdue on your forms.”

  Claire would have darted into the staff room to say good-bye to Frankie anyway, but Juliette walked her down the hallway to Medical as if she were escorting a prisoner to execution. Her mouth was pressed into a hard line, and she pointed to the elderly woman in the back of the room before she hightailed it back down the hall.

  “You hurt, dear?” the retired godmother who was now a nurse asked.

  Claire nodded, even started to point to her shoulder, when a thought hit her loud and clear.

  I don’t want to go to Medical. I want to go home.

  It had just jumped into her mind. The actual treatment was quick, but the forms would take forever, especially on a case that had no clear origin stamp. And she wanted to go home to examine Carothann away from the watchful eye of Juliette. To figure out what on earth had happened to it at Frankie’s. She could come back tomorrow if either her shoulder or her arm still hurt and to fill out the inevitable forms all the magic at Frankie’s and Abby’s would require.

  “Oh good. You got my message.” Tamiel bounced up from the sofa and rushed to Claire as soon as she materialized in her own living room.

  “What message?” Claire took a startled step back, but her heartbeat quickened at the sight of the angel by her coffee table.

  “The come home one.”

  Claire frowned and thought back to the moment she had decided to skip Medical. “That was you?” The old prejudices and a hundred cautionary tales about angel mind control came rushing back. She did not like the idea of the angel, or anyone for that matter, in her head

  “Yeah, sorry. I don’t normally send out those kinds of messages. Not on you anyhow.” Tamiel bounced on her feet. “But I’m just excited. Usually, I have to stay completely glamoured when I’m out in the field. This,” she waved a hand between them, “is a new experience for me.”

  “Can I ask you not to do that?”

  Tamiel’s brow furrowed. “Do what?”

  “I need to know when my thoughts aren’t my own.”

  “Oh, okay. Sorry.” Red washed over Tamiel’s cheeks and down her neck.

  Angels can blush? It was completely endearing, and Claire’s annoyance faded as quickly as it had risen.

  “No, it’s just that—”

  “I don’t have a lot—”

  They’d both started speaking at the same time and then stopped at the same time.

  “Sorry,” Tamiel said again and tapped her fingers on her leg.

  “No, you first.”

  “I was saying I don’t have a lot of experience. Face-to-face experience, that is. I mean, I’ve been doing this for ages…”

  Obviously. Tamiel’s fighting and slashing the demons had really been something.

  “But, boy, do I envy you guys. Being able to interact with your clients whenever you want.”

  Wow, the GA was jealous of the FGC! Claire hadn’t seen that coming. “Believe me, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

  They both stood in silence. Tamiel’s fingers were still going a mile a minute.

  “Hey, what about all the angel sightings?” Claire cast around for a subject that wasn’t quite as personal. “You guys seem to be all over the place.”

  “I know.” Tamiel spread out her fingers and stopped the drumming. She laughed and music filled the air. “That’s mostly Agla, though. Once he saved Lot from Sodom and Gomorrah, he got a taste for being the hero. Now he can’t stop himself. He warns people about earthquakes, tornadoes, cups falling off shelves. He’s everywhere. I can help you with that, you know.”

  “With what?”

  “Your shoulder and your arm. And whatever else is hurting you.”

  Claire’s hand froze on her neck. She hadn’t been aware she was rubbing it.

  “I’m okay,” she said, quickly dropping her gaze and pulling her hand away. The easy conversation hadn’t lasted long.

  “No, seriously. It won’t take but a minute. There’s no reason for you to be in pain. That’s one of the reasons I called you home, actually.”

  “Okay.” Claire should say no and find any excuse for Tamiel to leave. All the stories she had ever heard as a kid and all the FGC workshops had told her this—whatever this was—was a horrible idea for so many reasons. And yet, from the second Tamiel had leaped off the sofa, she had been aware of her—the adorable way she tilted her head when she was nervous, the fresh pine and lavender in the air, the energy that seemed to drag her closer as if they were dual stars orbiting each other.

  Claire went still as Tamiel slid her sunglasses to the coffee table and moved to her side. She glanced into the angel’s eyes. The burning flames were not the raging inferno of battle. Instead, their heat was warm and comforting again, like a hearth on a cold day. She was so close. All Claire had to do was raise her hand and they would be touching. The thought had barely taken root before Tamiel moved around to her back. Tamiel’s gentle breath circled her neck, and Claire licked her lips, waiting for her fingers to follow. The touch in the alley, although brief, had been so soft. What would this one be like?

  Her fluttering nerves turned jagged as nothing happened.

  “Um… I don’t know… I think your top might be stuck.”

&nbs
p; Claire closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “On what?”

  “The wound. The demon did a real number on you. The blood and the top. They’ve all kind of dried together into a big mess.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip. The encounter had started with such promise.

  “Maybe I can take it off,” Tamiel said.

  Claire’s heart jumped.

  “Or at least the sleeve and these parts around here.”

  Claire had no idea what she was pointing to, and if she agreed, she might be half-naked in under a second. That was a little quick in her book. The fluttering in her belly, however, urged her forward.

  “Okay,” she said. Excitement and fear surged through her veins. Tamiel’s concern might just be the kindness of angels. Who knew if they even had relationships? But Claire had sensed an energy that was electric between them since…the alley, really. That had to mean something.

  Claire’s top down to her bra disappeared with a soft whoosh, and she stopped thinking. Tamiel’s fingers caressed the wound. Knitting it back together, making it whole. Pain flared at the first brush, but then an energy glowing with heat pulsated through her body and spread beyond her shoulder. The pain faded as Claire concentrated on Tamiel’s touch. Her fingers moved in small circles, targeting separately each gash the demon’s talons had made. Then her hands seemed to be everywhere, running lightly down her back, sliding up and over her shoulder, dipping down her front. One hand lingered oh so close to her breast while the other kneaded the tightness out of her neck.

  Claire licked her lips. She was acutely aware of every spot Tamiel’s fingers roamed. And then she zeroed in on that one hand, resting just above her breast. Only an inch would transform this healing into… Muscles below her belly clenched as a slow wave of excitement rode through her.

  This feels too good. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t… I can’t help it…

  Just as she gave in to the feeling, the warmth coursing through her body shifted to coolness and then to nothing. Tamiel’s fingers lifted off her shoulder.

 

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