Deadly Dozen: 12 Mysteries/Thrillers (204 page)

“I assure you I’m not—I just need a little more time.”

“Terminating him is just one part of it. Because of his failed assignments, you’ll have to try harder to stop the outbreak that will happen as a result of the Cabrillo event. That’s the greater concern.” He narrowed his eyes. “I trust you know I’ve stuck my neck out for you on this.”

And without his help she’d never be able to carry out her plan.

“You have my word, it will be done.”

“It had better, Lena.” He pulled away and stepped back into the wall lit with the hue of blood. “Because if you fail at this event, I will disavow any involvement. Expect no protection from me, you’ll be on your own when the accounts are settled.”

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

THE TAXI HAD A CREDIT CARD SWIPER which Nick used to pay his fare and tip. It wasn’t certain that an attempt to teleport would fail, but the pain and nausea were sufficient to discourage it. The driver pulled up and let him off at the corner in La Jolla where he’d left Hope.

She wasn’t there.

A quick glance at his phone told him he’d missed a call and two text messages from her, the last of which said she was going back to the Broadmore. He called her and was instantly relieved when she answered.

“Nick? Where are you?”

“Back here by the shore. I’m sorry, they just took me away before I could tell you.”

“Who?”

“My supervisor. She can be really inconsiderate.”

“Everything all right?”

“Just a few loose ends.” More than a few, actually.

“When will you be back?”

He thought about Lena’s mysterious proposition and Johann’s odd reappearance. If he were to let his guard down now, as his supernatural abilities drained away, might he be endangering Hope by associating with her?

“I’m not sure. Soon.”

“It’s all right, Nick. I’m exhausted and ready for bed. If you still have some work to do, go ahead. Just make sure to come for me in the morning.”

“I’ll try to get back before you fall asleep. But in case I don’t make it in time...”

Hope let out the sweetest, most endearing yawn. It sent a warm rush of affection through Nick’s ever-thickening blood.

“Good night,” she whispered.

“’Night.”

“Oh, and Nick?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.” And she hung up, gently.

How many times had he heard humans utter those three words—casually, carelessly, emptily? But when Hope had said them, they nearly robbed him of his breath. Now he understood why, at the dawn of humanity, Father had said, “It is not good for man to be alone.”

To ensure that nothing from his life as an angel would affect his new mortal life with Hope, Nick had to clear things up with Lena, make a clean break. But did he have to figure it all out right this minute? Right now, he’d much rather be with Hope. As he thought about her lying in bed waiting for him, the issue was decided for him.

In the blink of an eye, and to his pleasant surprise, he found himself standing at the edge of the bed in Hope’s room at the Broadmore. She was breathing evenly in a deep slumber while hugging an oversized pillow. Taking care not to wake her, he knelt and pushed an errant strand of hair from her face. Still asleep, she smiled. Nick kissed her forehead lightly.

He wasn’t sure he could still whisper into her spirit, especially in her sleep. But he had to try.

// I LOVE YOU, HOPE //

“Mmmm...” Her expression changed—ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly, but in all the time he’d known her he had never seen such contentment on her face. He
had
seen that expression on humans who’d been redeemed, been touched by grace. Would he ever know such peace?

For now, he would enjoy it vicariously through her.

Resting his head close beside hers, he kept looking at her even as a sharp pang impaled his chest. How was it possible? How could he love someone so much that it actually hurt physically? If only he could capture this moment, put it in a bottle and keep it for all—at least, for the rest of his natural life, anyway.

Still deep asleep, Hope murmured something he couldn’t make out. She stirred and began to whimper, her brow pinched together. “It’s all right...”

Not wanting to stir her from her dream, Nick remained still and listened.

A tiny sob broke through her words. “Don’t be afraid...it’s just a dream, it’s all just been like a dream. We’re going to wake up one day and laugh about it.” She sniffed and tears drew glistening lines down her face. Was she dreaming of Chloe? “I’ll see you soon...I love you.”

And with that, she began to weep aloud. Nick got into the bed, wrapped his arms around her, held her close. Hot tears seeped through his shirt and onto his chest. And then she opened her eyes.

“Oh, Nick!” Sorrow laced her features.

“I’m here, love.” He held her tight. “There, now. Just a dream.

“I’m so sad…don’t know why.”

“Can you remember anything?”

“No, I just woke up crying.” She leaned away from him so she could look right in his eyes. “Please, Nick. Don’t let go of me, not till I fall asleep again.”

“I won’t.” As he pulled her back into his arms, his wings unfurled from behind whatever remained of the construct of his mortal form. With them, he enveloped her while she returned to her slumber. “Ever.”

For the rest of the night until the dayspring he hid her there—under the shadow of his wings.

CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

WHAT WAS IT ABOUT HUMANS THAT MADE THEM turn into idiotic tools the minute they had hold of power? Lena stood in a boardroom with Miguel Suarez, Roberto Hernandez, and sons of the Hernandez branch from the Guzman syndicate. She couldn’t let her contempt for them show—in light of what she’d just learned about Nick’s botched assignments, she was going to need their help.

“This better be good, Miguel,” said Roberto Hernandez, who was wearing an expensive Italian suit and a lot of jewelry. “I got a good mind to call this whole damn thing off.”

“It’s good, just listen to what the lady has to say.”

Lena stepped forward. “We all want the same thing. I’m offering you something greater than you can ever imagine, if you help me with one meager annoyance. Something you’ve wanted for a long time.”

Miguel lit a Cuban, leaned back, set his feet on the table and puffed.

“We just want all the Guzman territories. That little
hijo de puta
Carlito is messed up.”

With a wave of her hand, Lena dismissed the Guzmans.

“Forget them. When this is all done, they and everything you know will be gone. If you want in on the new global order, you’ll have to prove your usefulness.”

“Stakes just got raised, bro,” Roberto said with a wink at Miguel.

“What are you talking about?” Miguel said.

“You’re sitting on your fat butts, thinking too small,” Lena said. “I’m talking national and soon after that
global
control. You want in or not?”

Miguel grabbed Roberto’s shoulder.

“Of course he does.” Smiling at Lena. “We all do. Ain’t that right, Roberto?”

Roberto shrugged his hand away and glared at the others.

“Some hot chick in leather shows up and now you’re her lap dog?”

That did it. Lena’s patience, paper thin to start with, had now worn through. She walked over to Roberto, who kept puffing on his cigar even when her hand reached his shoulder and slid down over his chest.

“I better be getting a lap dance soon,” he said as he puffed a cloud right into her face, “or I’m outta here.”

Lena opened her right hand. A KA-BAR appeared in it. She pressed its razor tip right into one of Roberto’s chins.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Where the hell did you—”

She snapped the fingers of her left hand and pointed the Baretta 950 Jeftfire that appeared in it at the other Hernandez men.

“You boys done screwing around? I’m getting tired of all this.”

Miguel wagged his eyebrows at Roberto and shrugged.

“I suggest you listen to the hot chick, eh?”

“O-kay,” Roberto squeaked.

Lena took the knife from his throat and set it down on the table. She did the same with the gun, then slid both weapons over to the other two Hernandez men for examination.

As soon as the younger one got the knife, he grabbed it and lunged at her.

Without so much as turning around, Lena shot her hand out, caught him by the wrist, and swiftly twisted it with such strength it snapped.

“What the hell!” Miguel said.

The other Hernandez man picked up the Baretta and pointed it at Lena.

“All right, bitch. You think you’re all that?”

“You
really
don’t want to do that, Joey,” Miguel said. “Put that—”

“Nah, man! She’s whack! Look what she did to Mark!” His voice sounded tough, but the gun in his hand was shaking. To Lena: “You better watch yourself, muchacha!”

She blew out a sharp breath and let go of the moaning Hernandez whose wrist she’d broken. A moment later, the Baretta in Joey Hernandez’s grip changed from charcoal to amber, then blazing white. A sound like a steak on a grill sizzled from the gun, along with the stench of searing meat.

“
Ay
!” Joey tried to drop the gun.

It took a few shakes—his flesh had burned onto the Baretta’s molten surface. When it finally fell, wisps of smoke rose from the open palm of the charred right hand he clutched by the wrist with his left. Moaning and writhing, Joey fell to his knees next to his brother, also writhing, his hand bent at a perverse angle.

“I apologize for my sons,” Roberto said. “They’ve always been...impulsive.”

Lena snapped her fingers at them.

Before their eyes, the injuries vanished—everything was restored, every man in the room marveling.

Miguel blinked. “How did you…?”

“It’s all a matter of perception. Of course I could have really hurt your boys if I wanted to. But I want your help and I’ll need you all physically in one piece.”

“But that really hurt.” Joey was gawking at his restored hands. “I saw it, I
felt
it.”

“I made you all believe it was real. So for you, it was.”

“And those?” Roberto pointed to the gun and knife on the floor. “I mean, they just appeared out of thin air.”

“Oh, they’re real.”

“Now you ready to listen, bro?” Miguel got them all seated, then sat down at the head of the boardroom table and looked at Lena. “We’ll do whatever you say, lady. Mind telling us what the hell you are?”

“I’m real, that’s all you need to know. Now listen carefully…”

CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

IT WOULD HAVE BEEN SO MUCH MORE FUN to roast them all like the swine they were, but Lena couldn’t be bothered with picking up after Nick’s shoddy work. These pigs would have to do it so she could concentrate on the big event tonight.

“Have it your way,” Roberto Hernandez said. “What do you want from us?”

“First I want you to imagine a new world where things are done right, and only the right leaders get to make the decisions—wouldn’t you want to be part of that group?”

“I don’t know. Depends on what you call right. What’s in it for us?”

“If you’re on the right side, you stay in power in the new order.” Of course, she was telling them what their itching ears wanted to hear—not the truth, that they’d be slaves and metaphysical fodder in the new order.