Agave Kiss cs-5 Page 7

  “Barachiel wants you to rally soldiers to his banner. Your lineage makes you uniquely suited to persuading the people to rise up against demonkind.”

  Okay, what the hell.

  “You mean start a cult or something? The New Church of Solomon?”

  Kel reflected visible surprise. “The archangel doesn’t call it a cult, of course, but how did you know the name?”

  I puffed out a breath. The plane rumbled beneath my feet, as the attendants called out completion of cross-check. They passed multiple times, begging people to turn off their damned phones. Those things I noticed with half an eye, as I wrestled with the idea of predetermination. Kel set his hand on my forearm, and for a few terrifying seconds I glimpsed a wavering future, where I was polished and coiffed, addressing an enormous gathering of like-minded fanatics. They gazed at me with utter adoration, ready to fight or die, or donate all their worldly goods at my command. A hard shiver rolled through me. I starred in television specials, using my gift to prove that I was, indeed, touched by angels, and that I could carry their words to the masses.

  No. A thousand times no.

  Shaken, I jerked my arm away from him, cutting the live brain feed. I had no doubt that was exactly what Barachiel had shown Kel. If I signed on, I would have wealth, fame, and power beyond my wildest dreams. Now Ninlil had been evil, no question, but this offer reeked of infernal style, even if it came from an allegedly beatific source, so it made me wonder if maybe the demon queen had a point when she claimed the beings Kel knew as angels had started their lives in Sheol.

  And I wasn’t even remotely tempted. I’d ruled a city. Power wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

  Safe Harbor

  I slept most of the ten-hour flight to Houston. A shady past had taught me the ability to snatch rest whenever I could. When I woke, I was leaning on Kel’s shoulder. He didn’t seem as if he’d moved in all that time. At least he wasn’t rigid with fear, as he had been the first time we took a plane together.

  “We’re landing soon,” he said.

  Sitting up, I ran a hand through my hair. If I had been thinking, I would’ve braided it to keep it from turning into a snarled mess. “Did I bother you?”

  “Many things do. You’re not one of them.” There was something in his voice, a nearly imperceptible regret.

  Did he wish he could’ve stayed? Everything would’ve been different if he had. But then, maybe it would’ve shaken out so that he died in Sheol instead, if he could even die. I thought he had when we were fighting the warlock in Laredo, so pale and still, but then he came back. The same when they’d killed him in Sheol. I gave him mouth to mouth, revived him. So maybe even if he’d sacrificed himself to open the gate, his body would still come back online. That didn’t entirely make sense, however. If it required a sacrifice, it needed to be a permanent one, right? Whatever. The past was past. Dwelling served no purpose.

  “Did you sleep at all?” I didn’t expect trouble, but it seemed wrong for him to function at less than peak efficiency. In a world like ours, you just never knew.

  “Some.”

  “What’s going on? You’re even more terse than usual.”

  “Barachiel contacted me, asking for a progress report. He seemed anxious to learn how you reacted to his master plan.”

  A chill rippled through me. The plane dipped, hitting a pocket of turbulence that unsettled my stomach to match my mental state. “What did you tell him?”

  “That I was showing you the perks of cooperation.”

  “Did he go for that?”

  Kel turned his face away. “I don’t think so. From this point, we’re living on borrowed time.”

  Just like Booke.

  In my heart, it felt like Armageddon. Kel was a reminder of beauty lost as well as a looming threat. He was the Sword of Damocles. It would kill a sliver of his soul if he ended my life on Barachiel’s orders. Hell, it would ruin my week too. Maybe it was wrong to make light of the situation, but I was full up on despair. If I lost humor, then I’d forfeit the ability to move forward.

  “Noted. But, Kel . . . if it comes down to it, I won’t fight you.” There was no point. I’d seen how damned resilient he was. “Just . . . make it quick, all right?”

  His words came out terse, clipped. “Stop. You’ve moved on. Humans do. But for me, this is a cycle repeating, a way for Barachiel to prove he owns me. Again.”

  “So . . . my life is a power play. I thought he wanted me for the coming war.”

  “It’s a double-edged sword. If you accede, he gets what he wants. And if you don’t, he still gets something out of it.”

  “A reiteration of your forced loyalty and compliance.”

  “Yes,” he said quietly.

  “Sounds like we lose, either way.”

  Before he could reply, the attendant interrupted with final descent announcements. We were to turn off all electronics, stow tray tables, and return seats to an upright position; oddly, the chatter sounded more courteous, delivered in a crisp British accent. While we went about disembarking, I mulled over my predicament. Talk about a rock and a hard place—this was worse than when I was caught between two rival drug lords. This time, my enemy was a powerful supernatural being, who might’ve started as a demon, but over the long millennia had convinced his followers—and maybe himself too—that he was an angel with divine guidance. In my experience, fanatics were more dangerous than other enemies because they believed so fervently in the cause.

  I didn’t see how this could end well.

  Downcast, I collected my things and followed Shan and Booke off the plane. She steadied him down the aisle to the jet bridge, where an airline worker had a chair waiting for him. This time, Booke didn’t protest its use. He collapsed into it gratefully; and I wondered if I was really doing the right thing. But then, this was all his choice. He could’ve gone to Paris, Milan, anywhere he wanted, and I’d have made it happen. For his own reasons, he had chosen people over places. He wanted to meet Chuch and Eva, so there was no way I’d deny his request. Who could blame him, really? They were pretty great.

  Shortly after we got off the plane, Kel disappeared; he didn’t need documents. When I first encountered him, Chance and I got him arrested, thinking he was a murderer, and Barachiel made him serve part of the prison sentence as a punishment for getting caught by someone like me. When the archangel deemed his mortification complete, Kel came after me . . . but not in retaliation, as I thought at first. No, he had been serving as my guardian angel for longer than I knew. Which made me wonder . . . was he the reason nothing irredeemable happened to me during those awful months, where I had been between permanent residences? Once, I felt terrible shame with how many men I’d used for room and board, how I’d traded sex for shelter without real hope of a loving relationship. I’d since made peace with the memories, but maybe I should thank Kel because that dark time ended fairly well.

  The airline employee accompanied us to immigration, where the officer at the booth was tired and bored; she asked a few rote questions about Booke. Since I was listening, I heard the faint crackle in the machine when she ran our cooked passports; traditionally speaking, magick and technology didn’t play nicely together. There had been a small risk that the charm would short out the scanner, but the machine cleared us, and we caught our connection to Laredo without trouble. Kel slid on late, just before they closed the doors.

  Booke and I sat together for the short commuter hop. It was a tiny plane, small enough that it freaked me out a little, and I didn’t have any particular fear of flying. I wondered how Kel was doing in the row ahead of us. Shannon was talking to him, so that much was good, but I couldn’t hear what they were discussing. I turned to Booke, studying his appearance. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but he seemed to have stabilized around eighty.

  “How do you feel?” I asked softly.

  “I ache in a way I didn’t before you broke the spell. But I’m on a plane, going to meet friends. I count that as a smashing suc
cess.”

  An hour and a bit later, we arrived at the Laredo airport. It was late, nudging toward midnight, but I texted Chuch as he’d instructed. He’d meet us at the curb. As we had no luggage to collect, it was a simple matter to deplane and make our way out. Again, we had help, but Booke seemed resigned to it. While he could walk, he wasn’t speedy, and I knew he was ready to get shed of airports. He wanted to hang out with friends for his last days, not spend them trapped in a winged metal tube.

  As promised, Chuch was waiting in a restored 1980s Suburban. It had classic gold paint, trimmed in cream, and he beeped the horn to make sure we saw him. At this hour, the pickup lanes weren’t too crowded, so I had room to help Booke into the passenger seat. Chuch hopped out, then raised both brows at me, inviting the explanation I’d promised. He was a stocky fireplug, just starting to get a belly, but he was strong as hell. His features were rugged rather than handsome, but he had the kindest brown eyes in the world. Eva was lucky to have him. They had been friends since we ran into them in a wicker store while they were vacationing in Florida. Chance stayed in touch after our breakup. I hadn’t, mostly because I was running from all things Chance-related. Fortunately, Chuch and Eva didn’t hold a grudge.

  “Shan!” he called. “Jesse’s gonna go postal when he finds out you didn’t tell him you’re home sooner than expected.”

  She flashed him an impish grin. “I want to surprise him. Do you mind dropping me off at his apartment?”

  “No prob. It’s on the way. Kinda.”

  Actually, it wasn’t, but Chuch was that kind of guy. He’d empty his bank account for you, then claim it was found money he wasn’t using anyway. My heart lightened a little. Texas wasn’t home, but it was full of people who cared about me, and that was the next best thing.

  Chance should be here. Tears threatened quite suddenly, the emotion a sudden and surprising rush. Through sheer force of will I pushed them down, refusing to tarnish the moment. I hugged Chuch tight when he rounded the truck.

  He squeezed back, then stood back to analyze my appearance. “Damn, you’re skinny. Tired too, it looks like. Bad shit went down, prima?”

  “I’ll tell you on the way to the house.”

  “Hecho. Eva can’t wait to see you. And just wait ’til you get a load of Cami.”

  Mention of my goddaughter put a smile on my face. Knowing I had to explain how her godfather died took it away again. Kel and Shan climbed in the back while Chuch shook hands with Booke.

  “Not gonna lie, mano, you’re not how I pictured you.”

  “A bit of a story, that.”

  “Save it. Eva will want to hear it too.” As he went back to the driver’s seat, he waved a hand at me. “That goes for you too, Corine. No point in telling everything twice. She was up with Cami when I left, so I’m sure she’ll be awake.”

  “Can’t wait to see them.”

  The ride was quiet, though Shan’s leg bounced with nervous energy. She must be excited to see Jesse, but worried too, maybe. Her boyfriend, Jesse Saldana, was an empath, and a hot one, which meant he wasn’t known for constancy, as he found it hard not to respond to people’s feelings. So when a woman wanted him, he tended to feel the same. In my opinion, Shannon was brave for taking a chance on him, but that was love, wasn’t it? Risking it all in the hope of a happy ending. The alternative was winding up alone.

  Fifteen minutes later, we pulled up outside a brick building. I hopped out so Shan could exit, and she hugged me tight. “I will never, ever be able to thank you,” she said huskily. “Because of you, so many times over, I have a life to get back to. You saved me in Kilmer. Saved me in Sheol. But before I go to him, promise me we’re okay. If you’re not, if you have any doubt, then I’ll . . .”

  Break it off.

  I knew what she was about to say, but I didn’t let her. I held up a hand, cutting off the thought. “Be happy, Shan. That’s all I want. You’re my best friend, and if you love Jesse, don’t let him get away.”

  “I won’t. It’s crazy . . . because you guys thought I was a kid when we met, but I took one look at him, and well. I never wanted anybody more. I knew it wasn’t likely to go anywhere. I figured I’d get over it. Called it a crush.”

  “But it wasn’t,” I said softly.

  “Don’t think so. It’s only gotten stronger since we hooked up. You may not agree but that amnesia spell worked out awesome for me.”

  “It gave you a chance with him without any preconceptions,” I agreed.

  She ducked her head. “I chased him a bit. He was a little skeeved by the age difference at first, but I convinced him I’m not a child.”

  No need to ask what tactics she’d used to persuade him. Desire was a powerful aphrodisiac for Jesse Saldana, which made his constancy an issue down the line. Not my worry, fortunately.

  “G’night, Shan. He’s waiting.”

  She bounced on her heels in anticipation of the coming reunion, then went toward the building at a full run. I watched for a few seconds, smiling, imagining how Jesse would react to seeing her. And I felt not an iota of envy. Though I’d been drawn to him as I would be any attractive, personable male, we’d never had magic together. For a time, I wanted to be with him because it would be simple—and he could give me a normal life. But I feared I wasn’t destined for one.

  Hell, if Barachiel had his way, I wouldn’t live much longer.

  As I climbed back in and shut the door, Chuch asked, “All set?”

  “Yep.”

  “Have you seen the new house?” he asked, casting a glance over his shoulder.

  I shook my head. “You were staying with relatives, rebuilding, when Chance and I went back to Mexico.”

  “It’s pretty sweet. The insurance paid off good, so we built a bigger house. I got cousins who are contractors and they cut us a deal on the labor.”

  That made me smile; it was kind of a running joke that Chuch had cousins for every purpose under the sun. Need a car? Chuch has a cousin who sells them. Want somebody whacked? No problem. He’s got a primo for that too.

  I suppressed a pang of guilt that I was the reason they lost their first house. The Montoya cartel went after them, firebombing the place in retaliation for the shitstorm I stirred up. Only the fact that they weren’t hurt let me live with myself; the Ortizes didn’t blame me, but I did. My friends, one of whom had been pregnant, became targets because of me. It was a hard thing to carry on my conscience.

  “Does this mean you have room for all of us?”

  “Four bedrooms,” he said proudly. “Plus an office.”

  Which he mostly used to surf the Net. “And what’s your setup outside?”

  “I got a proper work space now. Four bays.”

  That meant a huge garage, I felt pretty sure. “Can’t wait to see it.”

  “The Mustang still okay?”

  “Yeah,” I said, hoping I wasn’t lying.

  We had left it parked outside Chance’s apartment. If he’d paid far enough in advance, then the car should be fine in the gated lot. Mexico’s weather was mild enough that vehicles could sit without the battery going dead, unlike colder climes. I made a mental note to call the landlord, whose number should be in the history of my phone. Hopefully all Chance’s stuff was intact. It was imperative he had everything to return to, just as he left it. Shan would call my current state of mind impressive denial.

  I preferred to dub it determination.

  Twenty more minutes in the car. The frantic travel was almost through. I’d kept my promise to Booke. He would be surrounded by friends, enjoy one last hurrah. I leaned forward, head against the passenger seat; I wasn’t buckled in. In the past days, sometimes everything had felt like it was too much. Between Booke and Chance, the combined weight would break me.

  To my surprise, a warm palm settled in the small of my back, rubbing in comforting circles. Kel cared about me. He knew we had no future, but it didn’t stop the feelings. Misery overwhelmed me, and this time, the tears came. I hadn’t cried
since Shan and I landed in London from Sheol.

  Kel pulled me to him, his big hands gentle, but he didn’t try to staunch my grief. I spent most of the ride huffing quietly into his chest. Chuch and Booke didn’t ask what was wrong, Booke because he knew already, and Chuch because he realized I’d tell him soon enough. God, I was dying to see Eva. I was tired of being surrounded by men. Shannon had comforted me as best she could, but she was burdened with her own guilt—at surviving where Chance had not—and at taking Jesse from me. The latter didn’t matter as much, but I couldn’t disregard Chance’s sacrifice; that wasn’t a debt I could wave away. We were still best friends, but there was a barrier between us now, partly my sorrow and her sense of culpability.

  The new house was gorgeous. Built on stately lines, it still maintained a lovely Southwestern feel with the stucco and judicious use of mosaic tiles. The entry was done in terracotta and cream, warm without being busy. Chuch’s personality shone in the various frogs displayed at prominent positions in the front room; he’d lost his entire collection in the fire, but he had been busy replacing them. I remembered him telling me frogs were good luck, and that was why he liked them.

  Maybe that’s my problem. Lack of frogs.

  Eva came running down the hall, already slim again. This woman was incredibly beautiful with golden skin, shining black hair, and darkly liquid eyes. She greeted me with a huge hug, which I returned with a touch of desperation. We exchanged greetings, and then she hugged Booke too. Unlike Chuch, she didn’t react to his age or his frail appearance. Kel got a friendly wave, not that I blamed her. He was rather imposing, not the sort of male you touched without an invitation. I could hardly believe I’d slept with him, in fact, or that he’d chosen to console me.