Throwing off the covers, he groaned as he went upright.
Naked was not good news.
Oh, man, neither was his stomach.
“Can I borrow some clothes?” he asked, knowing Matthias and Mels were over by the desk.
Someone cleared a throat. Matthias. “Ah, yeah—that bag by your feet.”
Bending forward, he picked it up. The thing was from the gift shop down in the lobby, and as he opened the neck, he told his gut to hang tight with any bright ideas. Inside, there were a couple of pairs of black sweats and some T-shirts with Caldwell’s city logo on them.
“Are you sure you’re good to go?” Matthias asked.
“Yeah—where’s Ad?”
“He just left.”
Jim sent out his instincts—his wingman was right in the hall by the door. Good.
The buck-ass-naked problem was rectified sitting down, so he didn’t flash the lady his ass. Shirt was a little tight and the sweats were high-waters, but like he was worried about his wardrobe?
As he got to his feet, he weaved and put a hand on the wall.
“You sure you don’t need to lie down some more?” Matthias asked.
“Yeah.”
“Your cigarettes, phone, and wallet are by the TV.”
“You’re a lifesaver.” Because man, the instant he saw that red pack and his black lighter, he was able to take a deep breath. Snagging the vitals, he shoved them into the sweats and headed for the door. He didn’t look back— couldn’t.
He was too pissed off for conversation right now.
“Call me if you need me—Ad knows the number,” he muttered as he hit the exit.
Out in the corridor, he looked around. “Adrian,” he barked.
The other angel became visi across the way, his powerful body propped up against a little phone/table/bouquet arrangement, his eyes on the floor, his brows down like he had a headache.
“I got a meeting to go to,” Jim said. “I’ll be back.”
The guy gave a little wave and a nod. “Take your time.”
“Roger that.”
Jim didn’t bother with hoofing it out of the hotel—good job, as he’d left his boots and socks in Matthias’s room.
Angel Airlines took him where he wanted to go.
Back to the boathouse.
Night had since fallen, and the exterior lights on the place were strong enough to create a glow inside, uneven shadows being thrown everywhere, the birds in the eaves watching him from their nests with suspicious little eyes.
Walking to the empty slip Mels had “fallen” into, he was ready to kill his enemy.
So much for that bitch turning over a new leaf. She might have gotten shanked by the Maker with Matthias’s redo, but clearly shit wasn’t sticking.
No surprise.
Closing his eyes, he sent out a summons to the demon, demanding that she come to him.
And as he waited, his body regained its full strength, like his fury was a car battery and her imminent arrival a set of jumper cables.
Naturally, Devina took her own sweet damn time to show, and as he walked up and down the dock with his bare feet chilled by the cold planks and his hands cranked into fists, all he could think of was what Matthias had said about Sissy in the Well of Souls…and how those two dead women had been made out to be like his girl—
Not that she was his.
God, he could just picture Sissy’s mother picking up the newspaper and seeing the coverage on the front page of the
“You rang,” the demon said, her voice nasty and sharp.
Jim pivoted around, and the first thing he noticed was what she was wearing: His enemy had jacked her spectacular fake body into a blue dress he’d seen before.
Well, wasn’t this a Hallmark moment. It was the one she’d had on the night they’d first met in that club across town—and he remembered her in it, standing under that overhead light, a stunningly beautiful lie that was pure evil.
In terms of the calendar, that intersection of previously divergent paths had taken place mere weeks ago. In terms of experience, it was many, many lifetimes in the past.
Hatred made him hard down below, the arousal not tied to anything he found attractive, but rather everything he didn’t.
He wanted to rip her apart and hear her scream. He want her to know what it was like to be powerless and at the mercy of someone who didn’t give a fuck.
He wanted her to beg—
As if she sensed exactly where he was at, the demon smiled like she’d been given a birthday present. “Looking for something in particular, Jim?”
Chapter Forty-two
Mels heard the door shut behind Jim Heron, but she paid no attention to the man or his departure. Her eyes were locked on Matthias’s face. By some…miracle, he had been transformed—utterly transformed: His coloring was warm for the first time since she’d met him, the skin no longer gray from pain. His scars had faded. And his eyes…
His
The one that had always been cloudy was now clear, sure as if a faulty contact lens had been the problem and he’d just taken the thing out.
Except there hadn’t been some kind of Bausch + Lomb malfunction, had there.
“What…” That was as far as she got, her voice fading from confusion.
“I don’t know.” Matthias shook his head. “I…have no idea….”
She reached up and touched the barely distinguishable scars. “You’re healed.”
How was this possible—
With an abrupt shift, Mels’s eyes shot to the mirror, the image of Jim Heron standing behind her returning with every detail.
And then she heard Matthias’s voice….
Oh, God…literally.
“There’s more to all of this, isn’t there,” she said in a stilted voice. “And it’s got to do with Heron.”
Matthias turned his lips against her palm and planted a kiss. That was all the reply she got.
In the silence that followed, she thought about something she’d said to her father years and years ago. She’d been a typical teenager at the time, disagreeing with everything and everybody: She’d announced, as they’d driven home from church, that she didn’t believe in God, or Heaven, or Hell—so why did she have to have every single Sunday morning ruined.
Her father had looked into the rearview mirror and replied, “Just because you don’t believe doesn’t mean it’s not real.”
Staring into the face of the man she loved, she didn’t believe the transformation—and yet she could run her fingertips down his now-unmarred skin.
And as she thought more, she found that there was little understanding any of this: Not the way things had started outside that graveyard…not the two men who surrounded Matthias…not what had happened to her under
