by ERIN BEDFORD
Not at all apologetic, I shrugged. “Pretty sure they believed me.”
Mandy sighed. “You couldn’t be serious for five minutes? Those people could have really helped you.”
I snorted. “Do what? Start a collection of animal heads? No thanks.”
“That makes no sense.” Mandy shook her head. “They are just people. Regular people who have some problems. Like you.”
“No,” I snapped, taking a step toward her. “They aren’t like me. They are randos who have insecurities they use imaginary friends to deal with. I see angels. Real, living, breathing angels. Just because your brain is not wired to see them doesn’t mean I’m crazy.”
As if things weren’t bad enough, not one, not two, but all three of my angels showed up in the tiny hallway. The three hulking angels filled the space around me, their auras buzzing off them and, even in my anger, caused fun tingles between my thighs.
“They’re here now, aren’t they?” Mandy asked, her eyes searching the area. “Where are they?”
Waving my hand in the middle of Lucifer’s chest which was blocking my view of Mandy, I motioned him to move. “Lucifer is right in front of you. Michael’s over there.” I waved behind me. “And Gabriel’s right here.” I pointed a finger to my right. To them, I asked, “Why are you here?”
“We can tell when you think about us, remember?” Gabriel smirked. “And you must have been thinking about us hard to get all three of us at once.”
“Yes,” Michael drawled. “I was in the middle of a debriefing when I felt this tug. What were you doing just now?”
“Yelling at Mandy.” I gestured to my best friend who now just looked uncomfortable. I guess I would too if my companion was talking to herself in the middle of the hallway.
Lucifer moved closer to Mandy and poked at her cheek. His finger going through her face was so wrong. Mandy flinched as if she felt him.
“Why were you yelling at her?” Lucifer asked. “Isn’t she supposed to be your bosom buddy?”
I snorted and laughed. “Bosom buddy.”
“What?” Mandy clipped, her eyes going wide. “You’re talking about me, aren’t you?”
I shrugged and grinned. “Maybe, maybe not.”
Mandy tsked and pretended to stare at her phone. Just like her to be in denial, even when proof stood right in front of her. One of these days, I’d get her to really believe me.
“Did you need us for some reason?” Michael asked, coming around to stand by Lucifer. “Or was your call by accident?”
“Would you believe it was an accident?” I lifted my shoulders, sheepishly. “But I will need you very soon. I have to go make with the psychic powers and pull some answers from the people in that room.” I pointed to a door next to us. The handwritten sign on the door said, “Anxiety and Depression - Ten A.M.” Not surprising with parents like Clarissa’s to find out she was coming to this particular group.
“I thought we had come to the conclusion that this Clarissa had run away from home?” Michael rubbed his jaw, his eyes inquisitive. “Is she not of age?”
“Sure, but her parents and the cops don’t believe me. She has issues.” I used air quotes and grimaced. I hated that word. It’d been used to describe me far too many times for my liking by people who didn’t know or want to understand why I was different.
“Humans are so judgmental.” Gabriel scoffed and shook his head, his blonde hair falling into his face.
“Like you are one to talk,” Lucifer pointed out. “There’s a reason I’m babysitting Hell.”
“Yeah,” Gabriel sniffed and brushed his nose with his thumb. “Because you don’t know when to sit down and shut up.”
“At least, I’m not an ass kisser, Daddy’s boy.” Lucifer hissed, stepping toward Gabriel.
Michael quickly stepped between the two a stern expression on his face. Seemed like they did this often. “Lucifer, knock it off.” Michael’s voice boomed through the air making the walls rumble slightly. Even Mandy seemed shocked by it. So, they could affect our world. The little liars.
“What was that?” Her hand went to her gun, her eyes scanning the area.
“That was an angel pissing contest.” I frowned at the three of them. “Which, as much fun as it is to see Michael play big brother, we don’t have time for.” I gestured to the door opening beside us as a few people came out.
Mandy shifted in place, getting her bearings. I could just see the wheels in her head turning as she tried to rationalize the tremor. Humans were so easy to dismiss things they didn’t want to believe was true. I wondered how long before Mandy couldn’t rationalize it any longer.
Distracted by my thoughts, I didn’t see the attacker until a hand landed on my shoulder. Jumping in place, I spun around and raised my hands up in my best karate stance. No, I didn’t know karate, but I’d watched enough Jackie Chan movies to fake it. It had worked until now.
Rosalie Group Therapist Ph.D. took a step back, her mouth gaping in surprise. Dropping my hands, I muttered, “Sorry.”
“It’s quite alright. I should have announced myself.” The genuine apology made my knees itch. Why my knees? Who knows? One of those universal questions that never gets answered.
The guys were lingering in the hallway, waiting for me to enter the room. I tried to wave them off, but they weren’t budging, the nosey bastards. Crossing my arms over my chest, I turned my attention back to Rosalie. “Did you need something?”
“Oh, yes,” Rosalie smoothed her hands over her hair. I wondered if it was her natural hair color. Her coloring really worked with it, but for all I knew, she could be a box dye girl. Not that it mattered, but it was good to know trivial things like that about people. Never know when you needed a good insult. Digging in her purse, Rosalie pulled out a card. “I was hoping you would take a moment to speak with me. Your story really interested me, and I would love to hear more about your condition.”
Condition. I huffed. I’d show her a condition all right.
“I don’t mean to be rude.” Okay, so I did, but adulting required me to say it. “But I don’t have any interest in pouring out all the nitty gritty sordid details of my life to you, Rosalie.” I drew out her name to make sure she got the full extent of how utterly revolting the idea sounded.
Giving me a tight grin, Rosalie held the card out even more. “Still, if you change your mind.”
Sighing, I took the card from her and made a show of putting it in my back pocket where it wouldn’t stay longer than it took me to find a trash can. I’d eat it just to be immature, but the guys already had a bad impression of humans, and I didn’t need to add my flavor of crazy to the mix.
“Is that all?” I asked, more clipped than polite.
Rosalie nodded, and I turned away from her, but her voice stopped me. “Jane. I really do think I can help you. I won’t judge or make fun of you. I truly wish to know more about you and your friends.” She paused for a moment and then corrected herself. “I mean lovers. The unknown has always intrigued me.”
Shooting daggers at the guys who had matching smug looks on their faces, I waved over my shoulder. “Then go talk to a palm reader. See if she can find your natural color somewhere under all that dye.” See? Ammunition for later.
I didn’t wait for her to answer before pushing through the guys and into the room, spine-tingling buzzing or not. Most of the people had left already, so there were only a few stragglers inside. Mandy spoke to a tall man with glasses and a bow tie. Really? Who wore bow ties anymore? This wasn’t England.
“Jane.” Mandy waved me over to where she talked to Mr. Bow Tie. As I approached her, I realized Mr. Bow Tie was actually a grade A hottie. Nerdy but hot. If he had been my therapist, I might have actually stayed. Though, the likelihood that I would take him seriously was slim to none.
Lucifer slipped his arm around my waist, tingles running along my skin as he brushed his fingers along the skin between my shirt and pants.
Clearing my throat as well as my turbulent th
oughts, I offered Mr. Bow Tie my hand. “Hi, I’m Jane.”
“Me Andrew.” Mr. Bow Tie said in a deep voice, his words choppy.
I exchanged a look with Mandy who shrugged. “Uh, nice to meet you, Me Andrew.”
Shaking his head, Mr. Bow Tie chuckled. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
“I’m sorry?” I raised a brow, not following his line of thought. Was this some kind of therapy humor I wasn’t getting? I would think I’d be up on the lingo by now.
“You know, Me Tarzan, you Jane?” Mr. Bow Tie cocked a brow, his hands open wide as he glanced between Mandy and me, begging for us to get his joke. Which I did, unfortunately.
I forced a laugh and pointed a finger at him. “I get it. Good one.” Not really. I’d heard that joke a million times, and it baffled me every time.
“My apologies, let me start over. My name is Andrew Marshall. I’m the therapist over this support group.” He waved a hand around the room. When I gave him a critical look, he chuckled. “I swear I’m a better therapist than a comedian.”
For these people’s sake, I hope so.
“Anyway,” Mandy, ever the professional, tried to steer the conversation back on point, “Jane is a consultant we brought on to help find Clarissa.”
“A consultant?” Andrew really looked me over as if he could discover all my secrets from my clothing choice. Sorry, buddy, no secret to the universe in these pants.
“Yes, I’m a psychic.” I forced myself not to smile. No one takes you seriously if you smile when you tell them something absurd.
Andrew smiled, like a ‘megawatt my panties would be on fire’ smile, or it would be if I weren’t already surrounded by hunky man meat. Wow. No wonder so many women came to his group. The curve of his lips would make even the strongest of women pull down their pants and beg for a physical. Okay, he wasn’t that kind of doctor, but you get the picture.
“To be honest,” - Andrew lowered his voice and leaned forward - “I’ve always wanted to meet a psychic.” He held his hands up in defense and popped that grin of his again. “I know, I know. People in my line of work shouldn’t believe in such things but think of how much easier it would be to help people if I could read their minds.”
Laughing nervously, I rubbed the back of my neck. “It doesn’t really work that way. I can’t read your mind any more than I can see through your clothes.”
“Can you?” Andrew asked, a cocky smirk on his face.
“Can I what?” I countered.
“See through my clothes?”
Wowzah. This guy. Really. He didn’t hold back on the flirting, that was for sure.
I shifted in place, acutely aware of the angels next to me. Lucifer had his hands in his pockets, a smug look on his face as he thoroughly enjoyed my discomfort. Gabriel, on the other hand, frowned, the skin of his forehead bunching up between his eyebrows. Michael, well, who the hell knew what Michael was thinking half the time? Someone would mistake him for a marble statue with how little he expressed himself.
“No, she can’t,” Mandy answered for me. Go, Mandy!
“Yeah, she’s right,” I quickly added. “I can’t see in your mind or your clothes, but what I can do is find Clarissa. So, why don’t we get back to that?”
Frowning, probably a bit disappointed, Andrew nodded. “Of course. I understand. It’s horrible that one of my patients is missing like this. I feel so terrible about it.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Lucifer said by my side. I’d had enough practice from the bar to not need to look at him in response, I simply nodded.
I didn’t think much of Lucifer’s comment. Most people would say they felt bad even if they hated the person. It was expected. If Andrew hadn’t said something along those lines, then I’d be worried.
Opening my mouth to ask a question, Michael jumped in. “He’s nervous about something. He keeps fiddling with his watch.”
My left eye twitched as I restrained myself from snapping at the angel. Really, who was running this show?
“I talked to Clarissa’s parents,” I explained, hoping to get something from him about what I’d already guessed.
Andrew shook his head, pure anguish in his eyes. “Those poor people. I feel for their loss. I can’t imagine how they are feeling right now, not knowing where their daughter is.”
“Lie,” Lucifer clipped. I held a hand up to stop him and then passed it off as scratching my head.
“So, you didn’t know her parents were keeping her hostage.” I cocked my head to the side. Did Clarissa open up to her therapist? I know I never did, well, not the way they wanted me to in any case.
Andrew didn’t act surprised. In fact, he seemed ashamed. “Yes, I knew about it. Or at least suspected it.”
“Dr. Marshall,” Mandy stepped in, her brows furrowed. “You never said anything about this the first time we interviewed you.” I could hear the accusation in her voice, and I wanted to know too. Why hold it back?
Andrew sighed and glanced down at the ground. “Doctor-patient privilege. Clarissa doesn’t like people to know that her life isn’t anything less than perfect.”
I snorted. “With parents like hers, I can imagine why.”
Mandy shot me a look. Ignoring her, I started to ask my next question, but Lucifer pipped up again. “Ask him where she is.”
Since it was a good question, I did as he asked. “Do you know where Clarissa is? Or where she might have gone?”
“One question at a time,” Lucifer hissed.
Crap. I forgot. You’d think I’d be a pro at this faking it by now, but I still get caught up on the rules. If I asked more than one question, I made it harder for Lucifer to pinpoint where they were lying.
“No, I have no idea where she is.” Andrew kept his hands in his pockets. His face had so much emotion in it I couldn’t tell if he was telling the truth or not.
I angled my head to the side, toward Lucifer. It was our signal for him to check. Lucifer stepped toward him so that he was in between our little threesome, his brow furrowed as he studied the man. After a moment, he shook his head.
“He’s not telling the truth, but he’s not lying.” Lucifer turned back to me, frustration on his face. It was almost cute how his inability to figure it out got to him.
Putting my hand to the side of my forehead, I closed my eyes briefly. Making a humming sound in the back of my throat, I waved my other hand in front of Andrew. “I’m sensing you aren’t telling us everything, Andrew. You don’t know where Clarissa is, but you have an idea.”
Opening my eyes, I saw Andrew’s brow rise. Shuffling in place, his mouth dropped open. “That’s remarkable. How did you know that?”
“So, it’s true?” O’Connor asked. I spun around and found the irritating detective behind me, a frown on his face. Man, did this guy ever smile?
“Yes,” Andrew quickly answered. “It’s true, I don’t know where she is, but if she did indeed run away and has not been kidnapped,” - he paused as if the thought itself caused him pain - “then there is only one person who might be housing her.”
Detective O’Connor stepped into our little circle, his jaw tightened and his gaze intense. How he hadn’t been able to crack this guy before baffled me. “Who?”
That one word made Andrew swallow visibly, and he stumbled over his words, “Jack ... Jack Adams. He’s a member of our group, or at least was until about two weeks ago.”
“Jack Adams?” Mandy scribbled on a little notepad. “Do you have contact information for him?”
Andrew shook his head. “Not on me, but I can send it to you when I get back to my office.” He quieted for a moment and then seemed to think of something. His gaze didn’t go to the detectives but to me. “He’s not a stable guy. If Clarissa is with him, she could be in real trouble.”
“Why do you say that?” Mandy asked, her paper poised and ready to take notes. My little honor student. She’d always been the studious type. Never missed a class and her notes were so detailed they were color cod
ed.
Color coded. I know! How did someone so nerdy end up with an awesome, amazing person like me?
“Jack tends to get obsessive. Dangerously so.” Andrew ran a hand over his face and let out a bitter laugh. “Clarissa had always been on his radar, even if he wasn’t on hers. But Clarissa seemed to really enjoy having an admirer from afar. Even joked about how it was always good to have a backup. A sure thing, she called it.”
“Thank you, Dr. Marshall.” Mandy reached out and touched his arm, sympathy in her voice. Andrew smiled weakly at her, placing his hand on top of hers.
O’Connor, on the other hand, didn’t seem to feel much of anything for the concerned doctor. Hands on his hips, O’Connor grunted. “Yeah, thanks. You’ve been a real help.”
Liar. Liar. Pants on fire.
As we left the civic center, Gabriel caught up to me. He bumped his hand against mine, his way of holding my hand. My heart pitter-pattered as I stared up into his opulent eyes. Get a grip, Jane!
“That guy isn’t going to be of help,” Gabriel randomly said.
Glancing at him, I yelled at my heart to knock it off. “Why do you say that?”
I didn’t realize my mistake until O’Connor asked, “Say what? I didn’t say anything.”
Flushing, I muttered, “Nothing, just talking to myself.”
Making a disgusted noise, O’Connor increased his speed which wasn’t hard with his yardstick legs. With him gone and only Mandy holding back, I waited for Gabriel to answer.
“That guy, Jack Adams.” Gabriel shook his head as if he didn’t want to say anything. “Man, that guy’s dead.”
“What?” I screeched. “What do you mean dead?”
“Dead? Who’s dead?” Mandy asked, grabbing my arm. I shook her off and waited for Gabriel to explain.
“Find him, and you’ll know what I mean.” Frustratingly, that’s all I got from him before he and the rest of them took off. Ugh. I hated that. Why couldn’t they leave like normal people? That way, I could chase after them and demand an explanation. No cryptic messages. No half answers. Just them, me, and a set of kitchen knives.
