Sins of the Lost

A significant portion of which waited for her at home.

“I’m sure.”

“All right, then. Let’s get back to work.”

* * *

“Jarvis! You have company.”

Alex looked up at the sound of her name and found Joly near the door, waving for her attention. Seth towered over him. Her stomach migrated to her toes. Hell. Now what? She flipped the file folder closed and stood, aware of the curious eyes following his progress across the office.

And the watchful ones.

Catching Aramael’s eye, she scowled a warning at him. Stay away. She still hadn’t forgiven him for siccing Michael on her instead of handling her meltdown on his own—and she had no intention of letting him anywhere near Seth. Returning her glare, Aramael stepped back into the coffee room from which he’d emerged. She met Seth halfway across the office.

“Is everything all right?” she asked. “Did I miss a call? Did you find something?”

A shadow crossed his eyes. “I didn’t realize that was a prerequisite for seeing you.”

She swallowed an automatic denial. He was right. When had she stopped feeling anticipation rather than dread at the sight of him? “It’s not. You’ve just never come to the office before, and I thought—” She touched his hand. “Never mind. I’m happy to see you.”

“I wanted to take you for lunch.”

“Lunch?”

“I believe that’s a customary activity for a couple.”

“It is. It’s just—” She snapped her teeth shut against the words that threatened. So ordinary. Too ordinary to fit with the context of what they were. What they knew. What they did. And certainly too ordinary to follow on the heels of their argument the night before. The shadows in his eyes deepened and guilt twinged in her heart.

Lunch was ordinary, but maybe that’s what they needed. What she needed before she had to act on Michael’s—

No. She wasn’t going to think about Michael now. Seth was making an effort here and she was damned if she wouldn’t meet him halfway. At least this once.

Roberts’s files would have to wait for an hour.

And so would Armageddon.

“I’d love to go for lunch with you,” she said. “I’ll get my coat.”

Outside on the sidewalk, she reached for Seth’s hand. “Let’s walk for a bit. I haven’t been out of the office all morning. The fresh air is nice.”

So was pretending, for a few minutes at least, that they were almost a normal couple.

Seth stared down at their linked fingers.

Almost.

“Also customary,” she said lightly. She tipped her head to the left. “This way. There’s a sandwich shop a couple of blocks over.”

Seth fell into step beside her, and their silence—perhaps for the first time ever—was comfortable. It didn’t last long.

“Must your bodyguard follow us?”

Alex glanced over her shoulder and saw Aramael a couple of dozen feet behind. Hell. She pulled her hand from Seth’s grasp. “Wait here.”

Doing an about-face, she walked back to Aramael. “Go away.”

“I can’t do that if I’m going to protect you.”

“I don’t care.”

“Alex—”

“No. It’s broad daylight. We’re on a busy street. No one is coming after me here.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m willing to take the chance.” She dropped her voice. “Aramael, I need this. Please.”

Aramael’s gaze bored into hers, flicked to Seth, darkened, returned. “I’ll pull back, but not all the way.”

“Damn it!”

“I won’t risk it. I can’t.”

Alex met the granite-hard inflexibility in his eyes, spun away, and went to rejoin Seth, skirting a homeless man picking through a garbage can. “Let’s just go,” she said wearily. To her relief, Seth made no objection.

This time, however, their hands stayed in their respective pockets.

Chapter 35

Mittron stared after the couple walking down the sidewalk, shock holding him immobile. The Naphil and the Appointed? How—? What—? He dropped a discarded sandwich back into the garbage can from which he’d pulled it and pressed his fingers against his skull. This newest drug might muffle the voices, but it did the same to his thoughts. Holding on to an idea for more than a few seconds took conscious effort . . . sorting through something as big as this seemed impossible.

Seth and the woman disappeared around a corner. Dropping his hands to his sides, he looked for the Archangel that had been following, but Aramael had vanished. Mittron shuffled after the couple, his pursuit of the woman automatic. Follow, watch, wait for her to be alone. Seth’s presence changed nothing. Well, it did, but it didn’t and—

He smacked his fists into the sides of his head, interrupting the thought-loop threatening to form. A woman walking toward him scurried off the curb, out of his way. He scowled. For an instant, he was tempted to step toward her, to see if he could drive her farther onto the street and into the traffic . . . No. Focus.

Follow, watch, wait for her to be alone. Follow, watch, wait—

Wait. She’d sent Aramael away, which meant she was alone. He looked over his shoulder to double-check. There was no sign of the Archangel. Hope flickered, and his heart rate kicked up. This was it. This was his chance. His gaze snapped back to the end of the block ahead of him. He sped up his shamble to a stagger and rounded the corner in the Naphil’s wake, searching for her familiar blond head.

There—beside Seth.

Seth. How—?

He clutched at his hair, pulling until water streamed from his eyes. He couldn’t take her in this state. The damned drugs were too fresh in his system. They had to wear off enough to think again. Follow, watch, think.

Half a block ahead, the Naphil disappeared into a building. The Appointed followed.

The Naphil and the Appointed? How—?

Damn it to Hell.

* * *

Despite Alex’s best intentions, lunch was an endurance event filled with long silences, stilted conversation, and the ever-present specters of Michael and Aramael. With one elbow on the table and her fist resting against her mouth, she stared out the window, her sandwich untouched, lunchtime odors assailing her. Roasted chicken, mushroom-barley soup, coffee. None stirred her appetite.

She watched a ragged man stagger past on the sidewalk, his hands clutching at his hair. Seth reached past her for the napkin dispenser. She drew back with a murmur of apology, then returned to her brooding.

Unclaimed powers, a world that might or might not survive events that went far beyond this current drama, their own struggling relationship . . . Where did they begin sorting through the chaos? Seth had lost everything