asked for more time off to go to Jerusalem, they would have fired me, anyway.”
Claire put a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “They were going to fire you anyway.”
Ryan’s head jerked in her direction. “Huh?”
“Because you suck.”
Ryan shrugged off her hand, and then used all of his might to shove her. She didn’t budge, only turning long enough to offer a small, amused smile.
“I don’t suck.
Chapter Eleven
Last Minute Forgiveness
So much to do. So much, so much. Repetitive grumbling hissed from my lips as I rushed around the house. A week wasn’t long enough to get my life in order. I scrambled around the house, up and down the stairs, trying to maneuver around my growing stomach. It became rounder and fuller every day. As I packed, Agatha worked overtime trying to finish the laundry, and Jared was constantly up and down the stairs, fetching clothes and medical supplies. It wasn’t until he phoned in a favor to a friend for bags of saline, IV tubing and needles, and anticoagulant that I realized I wouldn’t have my baby in a hospital — not even at home. Bean would be born in a dark, timeworn cavern under the city of Jerusalem, away from modern medicine, but just beyond the reach of Hell.
Seven days didn’t seem like enough time, but knowing that demons were shelling, it was also too long. Anyone we happened upon could try to kill us. Any human was a threat. Beth, Chad, even Ryan or my mother. The thought of my mother as a demon made my blood run cold. She was already frightening enough as a human.
Grant needed to be informed of my upcoming absence, but something kept me from dialing the numbers. Knowing he was an Arch — a fallen one, at that — made me feel uneasy. I had been rude to him, even insulted him at times. Being kept in the dark seemed to be the theme of my life, and yet this time it felt like a violation of my trust by everyone. Not to mention the unspoken competition I felt between us was forever ended. He had won. Every jab at my expense, every flirtation was only him goading me, and I played into his hand every time. Knowing that made future conversations with him difficult. The urge to admit defeat might come, and that would be the ultimate humiliation. Nope. Absolutely not. Wasn’t going to do it. Jared was his celestial BFF. He could talk to Grant.
“Sweetheart?” Jared called from the hall.
I shoved more clothes into my suitcase and then zipped the lid shut. “In here.”
He chuckled. “I know. Bex called. Grant will keep an eye on Mom. He said he needs to speak with you.”
“You talk to him. You know the details of the trip.”
“I don’t know the details of Titan. He wants you to go in tonight. I’m going to let Bex follow you in while I run to a friend’s clinic to get the rest of the supplies, and then I’ll be by.”
“Jared—”
He pulled me to his side, his arms surrounding me. It just occurred to me why the temperature of his skin didn’t feel as warm as usual. I was running the hybrid fever as well. That was one thing I would be glad to have back once Bean was born: Jared’s warmth had always been so comforting. Now that it was gone, I mourned its loss a bit.
Bex burst through the front door and sprinted up the stairs, stopping just short of us.
Jared tensed. “What? Is it Mom?”
“No. Why?”
“Why else would you barge in and run full speed up the stairs like that?”
Bex shrugged. “I don’t know. I just felt like running. What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that at any moment someone we care about could die. Don’t do that to me.”
“Okay,” Bex said, taken aback. “I’m sorry.”
Jared stomped down the stairs and slammed the door behind him. Bex looked at me. “I didn’t mean to.”
I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “It’s okay, Bex. He forgets you’re just a kid, I think. You’re doing great.”
Bex’s half-wounded, half-appreciative smile offered little persuasion that my pep talk did him any good. He waited for me to dress for the office, and then I allowed him to drive the Beemer to Kennedy Plaza.
“You are so much like your brother,” I told him as he opened my car door.
“I wish he’d see that.”
“He does.”
“I’ll walk you to the door. With them shelling, we can’t be too careful.”
I nodded. Although I felt bad that Bex had to babysit me once again, I was glad he was so close. The sidewalk was an obstacle course, and as usual I didn’t choose the correct shoes. My high heels landed unbalanced on broken cement more than once, and my pregnant body wasn’t in its most graceful state — angel-blood-amped or not. If Bex’s newly thick and bulging arms hadn’t been there to grab me, I would have rolled both of my ankles at the very least.
“Okay. You made it. I’ll wait in your car for Jared.”
I nodded. “Sounds like a plan, kiddo.”
“Nina?”
“Yep?”
“Think you could stop calling me that? I’ll be fourteen in a few weeks, and it’s awkward when people hear you. I look older than you.”
“Do not.”
“Do so.”
“Fine,” I grumbled. “My apologies, Mr. Ryel.”
“Bex will do.”
I pushed through the glass door, frowning. I wasn’t sure when Bex had grown up, but it was unsettling. My boot heels clicked across the tile floor, muffling when I reached the elevator. The building was quiet, making me even more nervous to meet with Grant.
The elevator opened, and I stepped into a dark hallway. “Grant?” I called. Everything was quiet. The sounds of the copy machine, the phones, the clicking of keyboards, and conversation were notably absent. The nervousness I’d felt about speaking with Grant was overshadowed by something else. My body was on alert. Something was off.
A faint glint of blue light trickled from under my office door. I blew out the breath I’d been holding.
I gripped the knob and turned, trying to keep the fear at a manageable level. When I realized who was at my desk, I was instantly angry.
Sasha, leaned back in my chair with her ankles crossed and on top of my desk, held the phone to her ear with one hand, and curled a strand of her ginger hair around a finger of the other. “Oh stop,” she laughed, slightly swaying back in forth in my custom-made Aero chair.
I swung the door open, hoping to surprise Sasha so much that she fell onto the floor. Instead, she glanced at me and then continued talking without pause. “Ugh, and did you see the shoes she wore? I thought about giving her a mercy-nudge into that mud puddle just to cover them up!”
“Sasha,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “Hang up the phone, please. We need to talk.”
Sasha rolled her eyes. “I need to go, Mom. Someone needs her office for the first time this week — coincidentally when I’m on the phone. Okay. Bye,” she said, returning the phone to its cradle. “You have the last cord phone in this entire building.”
“It was my father’s.”
“So?”
My first reaction was to run at her full speed and tackle her bony ass to the floor. Then she wouldn’t be in my chair complaining that it wasn’t fit to her standards.
