Agave Kiss

today.

I made scrambled eggs since I was already up and had the coffee brewing. By the time I put bread in the toaster, Chuch came into the kitchen, rumpled and in need of a shave. He looked tired too, no surprise there. Once again, I had dropped my problems in his lap and interrupted his peaceful life.

“Some night,” I said, serving him a plate.

“Thanks, prima. And yes, that was some crazy shit. Never had a dead demon in my yard before. That Barachiel, he’s got some moves.”

“Yeah, he’s gonna be a problem,” I predicted glumly.

“Eva said you’re looking for somebody who knows the land around here.”

“Let me guess, you have a cousin.”

Chuch laughed. “No. But there’s an old guy who likes to drink at La Rosa Negra. If he doesn’t know the rock formation in the picture, he’ll be able to tell you who does.”

“Do you mind if I take the Charger again?”

He narrowed dark eyes on me. “Don’t hit anything with it. No high-speed chases. Avoid bullets. And no explosions.”

Despite the lingering sorrow that tightened my chest, I mustered a smile threaded with genuine amusement. “I dunno if I can promise all that. You know how it goes.”

He leveled a stern look on me. “Then no Charger for you. I got a Pinto out back that runs.”

“You’re restoring a Pinto?” Incredulity sent my voice up an octave.

“Not so much. It was too good a deal to pass up, four hundred bucks.” His posture became defensive, and I wondered how Eva felt about his propensity for collecting crappy cars.

I muttered, “Yeah, but it’s a Pinto.”

Nonetheless, I took the keys when he tossed them to me from the peg on the kitchen wall. There were so many, it looked like a valet parking board. I nibbled a little breakfast with him; my stomach churned, not quite nausea, but a lurch. With some deep breathing, I kept my eggs down. I switched to dry toast while listening to the comforting morning noises: Eva was stirring down the hall, taking care of Cami. The baby giggled at something her mama did, and a warm, soft feeling permeated me. This, I thought. I want this.

A home was more than a place. It meant security, certainly, but it was also about the people who loved you. Without that, a house was only a building. Their love cemented my resolve. Maybe it would be better for him— better for the world—but I still wanted Chance back, no matter what his father said. He’d promised to build a life with me. I intended to hold him to it.

“You’re so lucky,” I told Chuch quietly.

He glanced up from his breakfast. “I know.”

“How did you meet Eva anyway? And did you know right away . . . ?” I wondered if the question was too personal.

The mechanic’s rough face softened. “I was on a job, years ago, in Nicaragua. She was hooked up with one of the lesser bosses.”

“She was a gun moll?” I asked, delighted.

Chuch flashed me a sour look. “I don’t think they still call them that. And yeah, I knew as soon as I saw her. She was wearing the hell out of this red dress, and I thought, ‘I’m gonna marry her.’ Two weeks later, I killed the guy she was dating, screwed over the Bolivar cartel, and we ran like hell.”

I had the feeling there was a whole lot of story he wasn’t telling me. “It was that easy?”

“That’s all you’re getting today. Don’t you have a mission to accomplish?”

“I’m taking the Pinto to the cantina, then. What time do they open?” See, I could take a hint.

Chuch grinned. “I don’t think they ever close.”

“Then what time does the old man start drinking? What’s his name anyway? And what does he look like?”

“People call him Beto, real name’s Roberto . . . something. He’s shorter than me. Less hair. More wrinkles. He always wears a straw cowboy hat.”

“That should be enough for me to spot him. Thanks.”

Before he could reply, Eva joined us with Cami on her hip. As she usually did, the baby clapped her hands when she saw me and then reached out. I took her gladly. “I’ll watch her for a few hours, if you have other things to do.”

The way Eva looked at me, you’d think I had offered to clean her whole house. “Thank you.”

“Uhm. No problem,” I said.

“You’ll understand when you have your own kids.” She made herself a plate and ate it uninterrupted while Cami pulled my hair and tried to steal my jewelry.

Flailing baby hands made it pretty hard for me to get bites of cereal into her mouth. By the time the bowl was empty, I was wearing a good portion of her oatmeal, and she was covered in it. Chuch smirked at me over the edge of his paper.

“You should have like five,” he said.

I nodded. “At least. I’m thinking we’ll just hose off in the backyard.”

“Watch the crime scene tape.”

A cold chill washed over me. For a few moments, playing with Cami, I had forgotten everything. Kel, missing. Chance, trapped between his desire and his destiny. The demons who wanted me to pay my debt and the archangel who wanted my help in changing the world. What amazing power in a child’s laughter—that it could carry me away even for a heartbeat. I wanted to go back to that mental quietus, but it was impossible. The real world had intruded.

But I’d promised Eva I would watch the baby for a while, so I bathed her. By the time I finished, I needed another shower, but there was no time. Cami wanted to play, and it was more exhausting than I would’ve imagined. I was ready for a nap by the time she started fussing and rubbing her eyes.

“That means she’s done,” Chuch said helpfully. “Lay her down. She may complain for a little while but she’ll go to sleep.”

He was right. After five minutes of grumbling, Cami passed out, freeing me to clean up for the second time. I put on jeans, a white lace-trimmed tank top and a long, belted charcoal cardigan. The plain colors fit my mood. I left my hair loose, mostly because I didn’t feel like fooling with it, and I was putting on my shoes when Booke came back.

He was whistling. Which I took to mean that Dolores had lived up to expectations. “Fun night?”

“Better than yours from the looks of it.”

First Jesse, now Booke? What the hell was wrong with these two? “It’s rude to insinuate that a woman looks less than her best.”

He flashed me a charming grin. “And I’m sure I’d care greatly if I were trying to sleep with you.”

I eyed him. “Thanks, I’m sure.”

His good mood dimmed a little; I could see the self-consciousness kick in, as if he was trying to guess whether he’d insulted me. Sometimes British people were incredibly cute. “It’s not personal,” he hastened to assure me. “I do like you. Just—”

“You don’t have to make excuses for not being attracted to me.” I grinned at him. “You made it clear in our dreams that you go for the tall, leggy type. Dolores has far more of that going on than I do.”

“You were having me on then.”

“A little, maybe. Don’t tell me how terrible I look, even when it’s true, and we’re good.”

“Done. Are you off somewhere?”

“Yeah, I’m trying to find Kel.”

“Is he lost?” Alarm flickered across his face, dispelling the satisfied glow.

“I’m afraid he’s trapped.”

Booke appeared to make a quick decision. “Give me a moment and I’ll come with you.”

“You don’t have to.” I was touched, but part of me wished he’d get on with his life. I felt guilty that he wasn’t already on the road, seeing the beauties he had missed while trapped in Stoke. The idea of being an obligation