My mind was still stuck on the miracle suggestion. These things don’t just happen at the whim of an angel. There’s paperwork to fill out, and a ton of red tape. Bureaucracy is inescapable. Even a green-stamped miracle has a waiting period, which is precisely why some people think prayers go unheard.
“Adriel.” Kat snapped her fingers in my face. “The longer we hang around here, the more likely we are to get caught. This was your idea, but if you don’t think we should do it, you need to tell me now.”
“Sorry, I'm distracted. Do it. Hurry.”
Kat swung the makeshift pendulum again. Instead of following a smooth arc, the cross vibrated on the end of the chain, bounced, and flashed in erratic circles while Kat frowned down at it. “That’s new and different. Something is interfering with the results.”
Or someone. I already had a suspect in mind.
A sudden movement at the mouth of the alley drew our attention to a man making his way toward us. With the sun behind him, it was impossible to see his face.
“You there, this is an official crime scene. You’re breaking the law.”
Sidling up to him, Kat purred, “Hey, handsome, is there any way you could overlook it just this once? I’ll make it worth your while, big boy.”
“Bribing an officer of the law is a felony offense, Ma’am.”
“I’ll do anything you want.”
“Anything? I guess you’ll be watching Demolition Man with me this weekend, then.” Zack Roman bent to give Kat a kiss on the nose.
“Really? I offer you anything and that’s what you choose? You could have asked for sexual favors and all you can think of is making me watch some cheesy movie.” Kat kissed him back.
“It’s a classic.”
I greeted Zack then settled in to listen to them. They squabbled like an old married couple and it was a joy to hear.
“How did you know where to find me,” Kat wasn’t the only one with psychic gifts, even if Zack kept common knowledge of his under wraps.
“Please. I am a cop; give me some credit for my powers of deduction. Adriel called. That’s enough of a rarity that there had to be more to it than girl talk. Then you make some flimsy excuse to take a drive into the city. It wasn’t hard to figure out that you would both be drawn to the scene of a murder if you thought there was something you could do to help. Didn’t take a psychic to follow that trail.”
“My turn.” Kat said. “This isn’t your case, and you weren’t concerned I might be arrested, so you followed me here for a different reason.” Her brow furrowed, “You came here to take me out to lunch.” She linked an arm in his. “Gregorio’s?”
Zack grinned down at her for a second before his face turned serious again, “That, but I also wanted to talk to Adriel.” He turned to me. “I can’t believe I have to ask this, but is there an actual reaper who helps souls cross over?”
“A reaper? Like with a black robe and a scythe?” The question was so far out of left field, I needed to clarify.
“Not exactly. They say he wears a red cape.”
Leith.
“He’s no reaper.” Disgust colored my tone and I followed with a sigh. “What have you heard about him?”
“There have been reports of a man in a cape showing up after someone dies and—this sounds ridiculous—standing guard over the body.” When I didn’t seem surprised or skeptical, Zack continued, “He’s been spotted at two accident scenes, and once near a heart attack victim in a restaurant.”
“Is he wanted in connection with any crimes or considered dangerous?”
“Not exactly. None of the deaths were suspicious, but the department is beginning to wonder how he manages to get to the scene ahead of first responders. Is he one of yours? An angel of death?”
It would have been simpler if he was.
“His name is Leith, and he’s not a reaper or an angel. Far from it. Actually, I'm not sure exactly what he is other than that he is a practitioner.”
“What does that mean?” Kat asked.
“He has certain abilities. Powers. I guess you would call him a wizard.”
Zack snorted. “So he’s Harry Potter? Is that why he wears a cape?”
Unless my spidey senses were completely off, the man in question was hidden somewhere nearby, so I raised my voice a little when I said, “No, that’s just a bad fashion choice.”
Kat asked the ultimate question, “Does he work for good or evil?”
“That remains to be seen. From what I can tell, he is trying to help in his own misguided way.”
Satisfied for the moment, Zack guided Kat out of the alley after cautioning me not to get caught by one of his brothers in blue. “I’d hate to see you get thrown in jail on obstruction charges.”
“You know you’d bail me out,” I teased. Kat handed me back the necklace with orders to call her if I needed more help.
“You can come out now,” I called once they were gone. “I know you’re here.”
“Why? So you can malign my fashion choices again? That was a low blow.” Leith’s voice came from somewhere to my left.
“We need to talk. Truce?” When Leith appeared minus the cape, I concealed a smirk. Instead of a Musketeer in search of a brotherhood, he looked like a handsome prince. The smirk fell off my face like water over a dam.
“T-truce,” I stammered.
Detente lasted about fifteen seconds before he snaked out a hand to grab Sylvie’s necklace. I was not having any of it and pulled back. A short but furious tug of war ended with our eyes locked and our hands meeting like those cartoon dogs over the spaghetti. If my breathing had quickened, it was only because of the chemistry between us and not from physical exertion. See, even when I want to be sarcastic, the cannot-tell-a-lie angel filter reverses my words into truth.
“Adriel.” The slow, sweet timbre of his voice went to my head like fine wine. “Adriel.” Sharper this time, he demanded my full attention. “Look. It’s working.”
“It’s what? Oh.” The necklace tugged hard enough to whip a red mark into my palm. Surprise loosened my grip to leave Leith holding the thin metal chain by himself. The shock in my eyes mirrored his when the cross went from animated movement to dead still the second my touch fell away.
“See, you need me.” A cloud chose that precise moment to block out the sun and cast enough of a shadow over his face that I found it impossible to tell if he was joking or serious. “Together.” Trying to maintain a sense of personal distance while holding on to the same slender chain worked about as well as you would expect. My arm tingled and buzzed at the contact during the entire time we followed the tug of the cross toward the back of the alley. It pulled us into the shadows directly across from the ledge where I had awakened from my trip here, and all the blood drained from my face when I saw the small pile of black feathers that had drifted into the corner.
I picked one up to turn it over and over in my hand. No bit of bird plumage, this. The center line that ran the length of the rachis was made of living silver—tarnished now to a sooty black that matched the soft barbs.
Malachiel.
Had he stood in that very spot while I lay insensible not ten feet away? Picturing him standing just that close and watching me was enough to raise goosebumps over most of my body. Leith felt the shudder run through me and gently pulled the feather from my hand.
“Give it to me if it affects you like that.” He said it without a trace of mocking—for that, I was grateful. “Besides, I have an idea.” Leith gently tugged the necklace from my hand and wrapped the chain tightly around the dusky quill. The swift and sure motions captivated my attention.
“Take hold of it again,” he directed me with a surprising amount of compassion. At every turn, the man managed to surprise me. I did as he asked and felt the chain jerk back to life. We didn’t have far to go; a handful of yards toward the mouth of the alley, the tugging cross indicated an expanse of brick wall covered in graffiti.
Like two powerful magnets drawn to each other
, the cross slapped against the wall with an audible ping and landed on a tag—the individual signature of the artist. This tag consisted of nine overlapping circles positioned around the letter D. As symbolism goes, this was on the simple side. Sylvie’s Dante must have taken his name from the historical figure who was convinced there were nine circles of hell. Oh look, I could say it when I meant the actual place.
Compelled to do it by some unknown force, I brushed a hand over the tag. Whatever working had been done there, the power rose to taste my touch; dark power shimmered off the wall in greasy waves. “You feel it, don’t you?” Leith whispered.
In answer, I gave him a look then, closed my eyes and channeled what bits of grace I could pull to the surface and sent it all toward the wall. Light sparked and sizzled into the nooks and crannies of brick baked to a dark pink by time and sun. A pattern formed and with one look, I felt nauseous and weak. Clearly picked out against the wall was an image of Julius, his face frozen into the act of a scream. Oh my God. What were they doing to him to cause such pain?
My knees buckled and I landed on the ground with a thump. Leith turned the air blue with language that proved no part of him could possibly be made up of angel.
“Are you all right? Adriel, answer me.”
Words were stuck behind the lump in my throat. Whatever was happening to Julius at this very moment was my fault. Plain and simple. Tears ran unheeded down my face and dampened my collar. I had to do something to help. Talk about fight or flight responses; I was having both at the same time.
“I need to find Julius and help him.” I scrambled back to my feet and began pacing around the tight space. Julius, in his role as my guardian angel had the ability to find me anywhere in all the worlds, while my role as his charge canceled out that of being his trainer. I had no means for tracking him. Estelle would be no help in that department, either. The ability to locate a charge only went in one direction in order to keep the relationship professional.
“If you’ll accept my help, I know a guy.”
“A guy?”
“Faldor. If anyone could craft a way to track Julius, he can. There’s a snag, though. He’d need something to serve as anchor for the spell. Angels don’t really have personal items, so I’m not sure how this would work.” This was a side of Leith I hadn’t seen before. The pragmatic, helpful side. Good to know he had layers.
Hayward house was full of things Julius had owned when he was alive. “Then we’re in business, because I’ve got that covered. We just need to go to Oakville. Do you have a car, or are you going to wiggle your nose and transport us there, Jeannie?”
“There you go again, mixing up the classics. Samantha wiggled her nose, Jeannie blinked like this,” Leith folded his arms and combined an exaggerated blinking motion with a head bob. Despite the teasing words, the look he gave me contained enough surprise that it made me wonder what it was I had said to put it there.
“I’ve always wanted to go on a road trip.” How long had Sylvie been standing there?
“The drive to Oakville probably isn’t long enough to qualify as a road trip.” Leith drawled. “Someone owes me a favor; I’ll call it in for a pair of wheels. Give me a couple hours and I’ll pick you up at the entrance to Tidewell Park.”
Great. Two hours of Sylvie’s voice buzzing through my head like an earwig. I could hardly wait.
Chapter Twelve
“Whoa,” Leith loosed a low whistle as we turned the last corner of the drive and he got a glimpse of Hayward House. “That’s just…whoa. It’s the house that Jack built.”
The place often had that effect on people. The main body of the house started life as a perfect example of Greek revival architecture, complete with fluted columns holding up a pedimented roof over the front porch. By itself, that would have been eye-catching enough, but Julius had made some changes to adapt the structure to his tastes. A pretty penny he’d paid to convert the two wings on either side of the main house to something out of a Gothic fairytale. Spires shot into the sky above a pair of arch-topped windows exquisitely wrought in stained glass. A single tree mirrored in two seasons—summer and winter—faced the driveway. Their spring and autumn counterparts looked out over the grounds to the rear of the house.
Precisely manicured grass played against plantings of perennial flowers and marched between the driveway and the building that had once housed Julius’ workshop. As big as the place was, though, I knew from experience it was equally cozy.
“It’s the house that Julius built,” I corrected him. “Stay here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I injected my voice with a commanding tone in the hope Leith wouldn’t question or argue. He had no idea the can of worms his presence would open should he accompany me inside. I had called ahead for just that reason.
I could have saved my breath, however, because Lola chose that moment to rocket around the corner of the house and make her customary beeline toward whatever humans had come to visit. Gangly as a newborn giraffe, the big boxer ran full out with a ridiculous doggy grin on her face. She might top out at close to a hundred pounds, but no one had ever been able to explain successfully to Lola that she was a big dog. Twisting her body and bouncing like a maniacal Chihuahua, she did her best dance before slamming against my leg.
Leith slapped a steadying hand around my upper arm just in time to keep me from landing in a heap. The rapid motion pulled Lola’s focus and she stopped dead in her tracks, swiveled her head to pin him with a look. I’ll admit I was curious to see what she’d make of him. On more than one occasion, the loyal dog had proved herself an impeccable judge of character. He stood still under her consideration while the moment drew out. Finally, she gave what was for her a delicate sniff—think huge sneeze with liberal amounts of drool—and pranced toward the front door where she issued two short barks. Status undetermined. Not helpful.
The door swung open to frame Julie, who clapped eyes on Leith and sealed the deal. We would be joining the entire group for one of Tyler’s patented cookouts. I readied myself for questions and winks and nudges. What was it about the happily paired up that made them think everyone else’s life remained incomplete until they did the same?
“We don’t have time for a party.” My tone was sharper than I had intended.
Julie eyed me, “This isn’t a party, it’s a strategy session. Julius means a lot to all of us and you’ll accept whatever help we can offer whether it’s a place to stay, something to help track him, or another bout of ring around the Earthwalker. We’re in.” She waved a hand to indicate the entire group gathered on the back deck as we passed through the sliding glass doors. “And don’t try any of that wrath of Adriel stuff on me, either.”
Behind Julie’s back, her husband Tyler stifled a smirk while he flipped burgers of both the beef and veggie variety with equal skill.
The knowing look passing between the four women told me there would be some kind of discussion about my so-called love life—or lack thereof—before I could make my escape this day, so I decided to put an end to it before it started.
“This is Leith. He doesn’t think I’m capable of finding Julius on my own.” I threw him under the bus without a second thought. “Leith, meet our hosts, Tyler and Julie.”
The smirk on Tyler’s face turned to an expression of choked back laughter as he waved a spatula in our general direction by way of greeting. “Underestimate Adriel at your own peril.”
“Where have I heard that before?” Leith’s tone was dry.
Tyler waved the utensil again and a drop of grease splattered onto the man next to him.
Finn Kent brushed at the tiny spot absently, his attention more focused on the woman standing next to him than on the new arrival. Who could blame him? His fiancée, Gustavia Roman, could distract a saint. Tall as a warrior, she wore a three-tiered skirt in pink, purple, and blue that fell to shapely, bead-bedecked ankles; a sherbet-orange tank top peaked through at least a dozen necklaces. Her wheat colored hair, in a feat of nearly impossible engi
neering, rose in an inverted cone-shaped arrangement almost a foot high and was festooned with tiny tassels. The woman was a walking cure for a bad day. You couldn’t help but smile just looking at her.
I pointed to the couple and named them for Leith as I gave Gustavia a hug. In awe of the vision before him, he stammered out a greeting.
Next in line for introduction was Gustavia’s brother Zack, who leaned against the deck railing, one arm casually slung over the shoulders of Kat Canton. The smile on his face appeared open and friendly to the casual observer, but anyone who knew him would see the way his sharp eyes, honed by years on the police force, assessed the new arrival thoroughly. Without mentioning the earlier close encounter, Leith assessed him right back.
“This is Zack and Kat, and next to them we have Reid and Amethyst.”
Reid Grayson, the newest member of the group, towered over his diminutive wife, Amethyst who, other than being two feet shorter than them, would not have looked out of place among the three fae I had met this week. I noticed she’d changed her hairstyle from a chin length bob to a charming pixie cut that only served to emphasize her elfin features. Decked out in her signature color of head-to-toe purple—including hair, nails, and lipstick, she stood eye-to-eye with her husband’s shirt pocket.
I noted the tilted head and speculative expression on Amethyst’s face as she gave Leith the once-over. She caught my eye, raised an eyebrow also dyed a delicate shade of lavender, and went back, no doubt, to assessing his aura. The Earthwalker battle this past spring had repercussions for several of my friends—Amethyst’s being the most dramatic. Going from someone with the ability to perceive auras to a Reader with a capital R had increased her ability at least tenfold. For a short while, the effects had been debilitating to the point where I worried for her sanity. She’d come through the experience with super-enhanced levels of auric vision and a certain amount of healing ability. Now that I thought about it, introducing Leith to her might turn out to be a good thing. Seeing auras was something I could no longer do with ease. Knowing lies from truth—that I could still manage with somewhere near my earlier accuracy—and Leith had never lied to me, but she would have a better handle on the intentions behind his truths. Unlike me, she wouldn’t be blinded by emotions she couldn’t quite name.
Earthbound Wings: An Earthbound Novel (The Psychic Seasons Series Book 6) Page 7
