Sins of the Lost

Chapter 90

Alex stared at the pale light creeping around the edges of the window blind. Outside, a truck rumbled by, a distant siren wailed, a plane droned overhead, a car alarm shrieked a summons to which no one paid attention. The sounds of a city stirring to life on a Sunday morning.

Inside, the rhythmic inhale and exhale of her own breathing, the faint tick of the clock in the living room. The sounds of an empty apartment bereft of all life but hers. No Seth. No Jen. No Nina. Everyone important to her, everyone she had ever cared about . . . taken. And the one soul who might have heeded her call for help?

Also gone.

She turned her mind inward, found her center, whispered his name. Aramael. But her soulmate didn’t hear her. Didn’t come to her. Never would again.

Curling into a ball, she bunched the covers beneath her chin and waited for tears. They didn’t come either. She closed her eyes. Without hysterics to distract herself, it was time to focus on the realities. Realities such as the three weeks Nina had before she would die giving birth to Lucifer’s Naphil bastard. The same length of time Alex would have to find her so she didn’t die alone. Fuck.

Alex bit down on a scream of pure fury. Tempting as it was to give voice to the frustration building inside her, it would not help to have the neighbors calling 911 on her behalf. She tossed back the covers and swung her legs out of bed. On the bedside table, her cell phone rang. She reached for it, thumbed the answer button, and put it to her ear.

“Jarvis,” she croaked. Lord, was that her?

“You sound like you’ve had a rough couple of days or something,” Henderson said.

At the sound of his voice, the tears she hadn’t been able to find a moment before flooded her eyes. She blinked them back furiously, shrugging a shrug he couldn’t see, and cleared her throat. “Nah. Same old, same old. Nothing exciting ever happens around here, I swear.”

Her Vancouver colleague gave a soft snort. “You are so full of shit, my friend. How are you?”

Remembering his aversion to her usual fine, she hazarded, “Alive?”

“I’d rather you said that with a little more conviction.”

“And I’d rather I felt it with a little more conviction.”

The reply earned her a chuckle. She smiled a little in return and blinked away the rest of the tears. It was good to hear a friendly voice. “Seriously, Hugh, I’m okay.”

“Want to fill me in?”

“How much do you know?” She lay back against the pillow and tucked her feet under the duvet.

“I’ve seen the news footage from Parliament Hill, Riley filled me in on your sister and your niece, and I know that Seth came after you. You can go from there.”

“Seth took back his powers. Turned out it wasn’t such a good thing for us after all. Or for me. He wanted company in his new abode. Ara—” She choked on the name and tried again, her voice husky, “Aramael tried to stop him.”

Henderson was quiet. “Tried?” he asked at last.

She squeezed her eyes closed. Put her forearm across them. Curled her hand into a fist so tight that her fingernails bit into the palm. “He’s gone.”

“Ah, hell. Alex, I’m so sorry.”

She had to work to find her voice. “Yeah. Me, too.”

“So how—?”

“Michael. He and the other Archangels—” She broke off. Opening her eyes, she peered at the sleeve of her pajamas—wait, how did she get into her pajamas? She mentally shoved aside the distraction and scowled. How had Michael known that Aramael needed help? That she . . .

“Call,” Aramael’s voice whispered in her memory. “Call Mika’el.”

She scrambled into a sitting position. Stared at herself in the full-length mirror hanging on the opposite wall. Holy hell. She’d called Heaven’s greatest warrior. And he’d heard her. Was that even possible?

“Jarvis? You there?” Henderson asked.

The bedroom door opened to her left. Instinctively, she cowered, the events of the day before still alive and well in her memory. Elizabeth Riley held up both hands in a gesture meant to calm and reassure. Because it was Riley, it didn’t have the desired effect.

“I’m here,” she told Henderson. Her heart hammering, she swung her legs out of bed for a second time. “And apparently so is Riley. Can I call you back in a while?”

“Ten minutes. You can call me back in ten minutes, or I’m getting on a plane and coming out there myself.”

She didn’t bother pointing out that the flight would take him the better part of the day. “Ten minutes,” she agreed.

Dropping the phone onto the covers beside her, she met Riley’s bright blue, too observant gaze. At least the psychiatrist’s presence explained the pajamas. Alex shoved aside the usual prickle of antagonism and mustered a smile.

“You didn’t have to stay the night.”

Riley shrugged. “I promised your supervisor I would. Did you sleep all right? I only gave you a mild sedative. I wasn’t sure it would be enough.”

“It was,” Alex assured her.

“Good. I’ve made coffee if you’re interested.”

“Very.”

The psychiatrist disappeared from the doorway, presumably headed for the kitchen. Alex frowned. That was it? No other questions? No probing her psyche to ascertain her level of sanity after yesterday? She scooped up the cell phone and padded after Riley. If the promise of coffee hadn’t been enough of a draw to get her out of bed, curiosity would have been.

Chapter 91

Riley turned from the counter as Alex entered, handed her a mug, and watched in silence as she added cream and sugar. Alex lifted an eyebrow.

“None for you?”

“I prefer tea. I couldn’t find any, so I’ll get some at the hospital.”

The sip of coffee Alex had taken turned tasteless. She forced it down just to get rid of it. The hospital. Jen. She stared into her cup at the brown-paper-bag colored liquid.

“Is there any change?”

“They’ve removed the restraints, but other than that, no. I’m sorry. She’s moving up to the psych ward this morning. I’m going to stop in and check on her, then I have a meeting with your chief and Dr. Bell before I catch my flight back to Vancouver.”

Alex set her mug on the counter, wondering what Riley would think if she poured herself a Scotch instead. She studied the petite woman. Which of those topics did she want to take on first: hospital, meeting, or flight out? Riley forestalled her.

“You don’t need me here, Alex. After what’s happened in the last few days, the very fact that you’re upright and not curled into a ball in the corner proves it. I plan to tell your chief exactly that—and I’ll probably tell your department shrink to go screw himself.”

Alex’s jaw dropped. “You—I—that’s it? No questions, no trying to get me to talk?”

“Do you want to talk?”