“Then why can’t you believe that what I’ve said is true?”
“Well, because...because...” Jane turned to face Anita, and she was at a loss for words. Thoughts flashed through her mind: what she’d overheard Luke telling Sal, Luke attempting to sway her vote, and the serious expression on Anita’s face.
Suddenly, she felt feverish, and a heavy feeling pressed on her chest. She couldn’t breathe. She had to get out. Now. “Good-bye Mrs. Duran.”
She ran down the hall and out of the building. Her heart slammed against her chest a hundred miles a minute as she plucked a set of car keys from out of her purse. She needed to leave, to get far away from there. Far away from the memories that fluttered through her mind: the presence of someone near her during the plane crash, protecting her; the same presence protecting her during the auto accident; Luke rising to the top of the corporate world in unprecedented speed, never aging, always the same. If she believed in God, how could she not believe in evil?
No. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible. Luke was not Lucifer. He wasn’t the devil.
Her hands shook, and the keys slipped out of her hand, falling onto the pavement. When she bent down to pick them up, a cold chill swept through her. She could feel someone watching her every move.
She glanced up and froze when she saw a pair of crocodile boots.
She blinked, and they were gone.
After the senator left, Naomi reluctantly gave Welita a kiss good-bye, promising to watch over her and Chuy whenever she could. When she arrived back in Emma’s hospital room, Megan was asleep and Jeremy was nowhere to be found.
Looking out the window, she saw him in a grove of trees across the hospital parking lot, sitting on one of the tree branches. He must’ve seen her because he waved and gestured for her to join him.
After crossing the lot, Naomi glided through a field of wildflowers that were dispersed in small patches near the trees. Craning her neck, she watched Jeremy swing his legs like a little boy. He wore a silly grin that lit up his face. He almost looked like the Jeremy she’d first met in New Mexico.
He jumped out of the tree and gracefully landed in front of her. For the first time, she really looked at him and realized that he looked different from when they had first met.
Gone were his usual black suit and crisp white shirt. He wore a simple of pair of jeans that hugged his hips. A soft-looking black leather jacket was thrown over a simple white cotton T-shirt.
She eyed him carefully. It was something she could imagine Lash wearing.
“Why don’t you wear your suits anymore?”
His smile froze, and after a moment, he gave a forced laugh. “I gotta keep up with the latest trends. Besides, I had a feeling this assignment would require more wash-n-wear clothing.”
His eyes locked with hers briefly before he quickly diverted them. He walked a few steps away from her and plopped himself on the grass. “So guess what Chuy and Lalo are up to.”
She sank down beside him, crossing her legs Indian style. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”
“They were able to get some evidence that Prescott Oil is illegally dumping the chemicals they’re using. Lalo somehow even managed to get proof that they’re not lining the wells according to Federal regulations. I don’t know how he got it, but he did. Chuy is going to sneak Megan into the press conference. She’s going to try to make a scene to attract media attention and then give them the evidence.”
She shook her head. “I hope it works. It didn’t work for me.”
He gave her a questioning look.
“Long story.” She sighed, remembering how she’d crashed the senator’s fundraising banquet only to be immediately tossed out. “I guess that means I’ll be there too.”
“Yeah, the both of us.”
“Don’t you need to stay with Emma?”
He cursed under his breath and turned his head away from her.
She studied his profile, watching his square jaw tense. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. So, how did it go?”
Great. He was changing the subject. It was no use pressing him to tell her.
“She’s not the same,” she said. “It was hard seeing her like that.”
“Is she okay?”
“Yeah, I guess. I mean, she seems to be doing well, but she looked so fragile. The year has really taken a toll on her. And...”
She hesitated to tell him what she had done, appearing to Welita. Would he get mad?
“And what?” he prodded with sapphire eyes that glowed with openness. He was on her side. She could trust him.
“And she saw me.”
He grinned, dimples flashing. “Did she freak?”
She laughed. “Of course not. She already knew I was there. My grandmother has always believed in angels. Didn’t Lash tell you that your mother was her guardian angel?”
There was a tense silence. Hurt passed over his face, and she bit down on her lip. How could she forget that Lash was barely on speaking terms with him?
“I’m sorry. I forgot about you and....well, what about Raphael? Didn’t he tell you about Rebecca and my grandmother?”
“I haven’t been talking that much to Raphael lately, either. I had to leave soon after you were reunited with Lash. I was sent on assignment, remember? Raphael mentioned it.”
“Oh, right. Why were you sent on a job so soon? I thought Gabrielle would cut you some slack. She likes
He studied her face for a moment, and she felt that pull again, as if he was silently urging her to him. After a moment, he let out a breath and looked away. “I wasn’t really on an assignment. I had some...things I had to do.”
“Oh. I didn’t mean to pry.”
He groaned and fell back into the grass, gazing at the stars in the cloudless sky. “It’s not easy being the angel of death.”
She furrowed her brow, wondering what he was talking about. “I can imagine.”
When he turned his head toward her, long spears of grass brushed against his flawless face. “I wasn’t happy being a seraph. I wanted to be an archangel. I even tried to convince Lash to be one too. He didn’t want it. I thought he was holding himself back and being his rebellious self. Now I know it was because being an archangel would’ve stifled him, taken the best out of him.”
She knew exactly what he meant. She felt the burden of being an archangel, and she hadn’t even completed her training yet.
He chuckled as he continued to reminisce. “You should’ve seen the things he did to rile up Gabrielle. I miss him.”
She felt an ache in her chest. She missed Lash too. What she wouldn’t do to have him there at this moment. She desperately wanted to see him and tell him she was sorry: sorry for staying mad at him, for hurting him, and that she understood now why he’d done what he did.
“There’s one thing about being the archangel of death that amazes me though.”
“What’s that?”
“People can be so strong in the face of death.” He sat up, bracing himself on his elbows. “Almost everyone I’ve had to take over to the other side finds a way to put themselves at peace with it. They ask forgiveness from loved ones or mutter a prayer. But the ones that amaze me the most are those who take danger head on, knowing they’ll more than likely die, and yet they face that danger anyway. And the psalm they mutter. It’s so beautiful.”
She thought back to her catechism classes, remembering that a psalm is like a song or prayer. There were so many. “Which one?”
“You know the one that starts off with ‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death’?”
“Yeah. You like that one?”
