him sniffing around.”

“Huh.”

I tried to sound surprised. Tried to look surprised. But her gaze swung to mine, eyes narrowing.

“You knew he was following us.”

I shrugged, hoping for noncommittal.

She smacked my arm. “You were just going to let me take the blame and keep your mouth shut, weren’t you?”

“Hell, yeah.”

Another smack. “That’s what you were doing at dinner, wasn’t it? Breaking his jaw. I thought it looked off, and I could swear I smelled blood when we were walking back from the restaurant.” She shook her head. “Communication. We should try it sometime.”

I shifted, putting my arm under my head. “How about now? About this trip. You’re bored.” When she opened her mouth to protest, I put my hand over it. “You’re tired of St. Louis. There’s not a damned thing to do except hole up in our hotel room, run in the forest and hunt mutts-which, while fun, we could do anywhere. So I’m thinking, maybe it’s time to consider a second honeymoon.”

She sputtered a laugh. “Already?”

“I think we’re due for one. So how’s this? We pack, head home, see the kids for a couple of days, then take off again. Someplace where we can hole up, run in the forest and not have to worry about tripping over mutts. A cabin in Algonquin…”

She leaned over me, hair fanning a curtain around us. “Wasn’t that where I suggested we go when you first asked?”

“I thought you were just trying to make it easy on me. We can rent a cabin anytime. I wanted this to be different, special.”

“It was special. I was stalked, chased, attacked… and I got to beat the crap out of a mutt twice my size.” She bent further, lips brushing mine. “A truly unique honeymoon from a truly unique husband.”

She put her arms around my neck, rolled over and pulled me on top of her.

Off-Duty Angel

Getting an audience with the Fates is like getting an invitation to tea with the queen. Most people in our world never receive one. To actually wrangle one yourself? Damn near impossible. Unless you’re me: Eve Levine-dark witch, half-demon, part-time ghost, part-time angel. I’m in their throne room so often they might as well install a revolving door. Most times, I’m getting hauled in and chewed out-a fake chewing out, as the Fates pretend to upbraid me for breaking some rule or other on a mission, while they’re really just relieved that someone got the job done. Which I do.

Today, though, I’d requested the audience. So they were making me wait in their reception room, watching the mosaics subtly changing as the story of life and death played out on the walls. Finally, the floor turned and deposited me in the throne room, at the foot of the Fate’s dais.

“I have a deal for you,” I said to the oldest Fate, as she snipped a length of life-yarn.

“We’re honored,” she said, peering down with a withering look. “The answer is no. We’ve had quite enough of your deals, Eve.”

“Really? Huh. Then how about you undo the one that makes me a halo-slave for six months a year? If you’re regretting that, we can renegotiate. Or just forget the whole thing.”

She morphed into her sister, a middle-aged woman with long, graying blond hair. “You wouldn’t want that, Eve. No more than we would. While I’m quite certain any offer of yours is not to our advantage, we’ll hear you out.”

“Good.” I reached back to pull off my Sword of Judgment, so I could lean on it, as I usually did in the throne room-if only to make the eldest Fate sputter. But I didn’t have it. I was off-duty. Which was the problem. “I’d like to offer you seven extra days of my time. I’ll voluntarily go back into the angel corps for the next week. In return, you give me two weeks off during my regular shift.”

The youngest Fate came on, laughing. “Truly? You give us one week and we give you two? That is a deal.”

“It is, because you can schedule my downtime whenever you want it. Anytime things get slow, you give me shore leave. Totally at your convenience.”

“Kristof’s still in court, I presume?” The middle Fate had returned.

“Sure, but that’s not why-”

“It is exactly why.” The oldest Fate now. “Your lover is busy. You are bored. You want us to entertain you. Absolutely-”

“Not so hasty, sister.” The middle one came back. “I believe her angel partner would be very happy for her assistance right now.”

I perked up. “Trsiel’s hunting? Who? Or what?”

“It’s a what. He’s hunting for answers, deep in the bowels of the Great Library. We’ve asked him to research the political ramifications of a proposed treaty between two djinn factions. We expected it to take a few weeks, but with your help…”

“Right. Um, now that you mention it…”

“You’ve suddenly remembered another pressing obligation?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Thanks for your time. And if anything-”

“-more exciting comes up?” The Fate smiled. “We’ll call you.”

***

I flopped onto the front porch swing of my Southern manor. The Fates were right, of course. Kris had been tied up in afterlife court for the past week, and it didn’t look as if it would end anytime soon. I should point out he was the defense attorney, not the defendant. Kristof Nast would never be found in a defendant’s seat. He always bribed, threatened or manipulated his way out of trouble long before it reached that point.

So he was busy and I was bored. That sounds bad, as if I rely on him so much that I don’t know what to do with myself when he’s gone. Actually, I’m more accustomed to being alone. I’d spent most of my mortal life by myself-or with our daughter, Savannah. Even now that Kris and I had been reunited after death, we were apart more than we weren’t. There was my angel gig, for one thing. And we have our own lives outside that. We’ve even kept our own afterlife homes-my manor and his houseboat-though if we’re in the same plane, we rarely sleep in separate beds.

I was bored because I was nearing the end of my latest shore leave. Whenever I first returned from angel duty, I had a long list of things to do. Check on my spirit guide, Jaime. Check on Savannah. Check on Kris’s boys, Sean and Bryce. Check on my afterlife contacts, see if they have anything interesting for me. Call in some chits. Chase down new contacts. Explain to them why it’s really a good idea to have Eve Levine in their Rolodex. Just maintaining my contact network is a job in itself.

But that work was long done. This was the time when I truly would be taking a little R &R. With Kris. Even after nine years here, there are endless nooks and crannies and planes and dimensions we haven’t explored. I suppose I could go on my own, but it really wasn’t the same.

Someone turned onto my block. That wasn’t unusual. I have neighbors, of course, and the regions aren’t exclusive. Ghosts travel. But what caught my attention was the figure itself. A couple of inches taller than my six feet. Late forties. Thinning blond hair. Broad shoulders. Carrying some extra weight, but his big frame hid it, as did his expertly tailored suit.

I flew off the swing, sending it rocking as I raced down the steps. Along the front path, through the gate, down the road, like a war bride spotting her discharged husband.

Kris caught me up in a hug and kiss.

“I thought you didn’t get a break until tonight,” I said.

“I wrangled a recess,” he said. “It’s a brief one, but I wanted to come by. I may have a job for you.”

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