Chapter 17

We sleep deeply with our bodies woven together. Occasionally, one of us stirs, kissing and touching until we drift off again. In time, the sun rises and I peel Collin from my body so I can prepare for work. We will have one more opportunity to strengthen our bond before sleep this evening. I’m strong and I’m ready.

Almost fully healed, I decide to go out for a morning run and release the weight on my shoulders. First mile, I go through last night in my mind. I think of the morning passion between Collin and me, a hot shower, the shadow killer in my room. The look in Collin’s eyes when finishing the kill. I saw something there other than concentration. To call it fury would minimize the intensity. I understand it a little better, now.

Mile two, I replay Rick returning, Collin pacing the floor, telling me about the mistake he’d made in the preexistence. A preordained union put my life in danger and my family on the run. Ultimately, his selfishness leads to the death of all I love as well as others I’ve never met. He might as well have killed them himself. He takes the blame for my torment at the hands of turned angels intent on destroying me. A sharp pain strikes my heart as I learn of a fifteen-year-old girl killed in her sleep. A senseless act of violence perpetrated to cause me fear and make me want immediate revenge. They’re calling me to them, wanting me to make a mistake, bringing my demise. I reach deep into my soul to find the strength to forgive Collin.

Mile three, I think of how I said good bye to Rick last night, knowing I’ll probably never see him again. He has no idea how the night ended, with Collin agreeing to die and my willingness to allow him, or my stubborn intent on destroying myself. He knows I long for this life to be over. His secret hope is to save me while allowing Collin the chivalrous death.

Mile four, the wind picks up again. The leaves rustle and I smell fresh pine in the air, similar to last night. So much different from Washington. A drier smell, no ferns. The smell…the feel. I stop mid-stride. Wet pine and ferns, I smelled it. I heard it. Last night. Not where I would’ve expected either. Then, I remember a watch, one I’ve seen before. How could I be so blind? It was there all along.

I’ve been betrayed by the one I trusted most.

The four miles back to my house are spent clearing everything I thought I already knew from my mind. My plan has changed. I’ll have to correct for a new contingency. This night will be even more difficult than previously imagined. The rogue angels trying to kill us will die tonight or they’ll hunt us for the rest of our lives. I need the fortitude and unbreakable courage to face them, hoping it will be enough to sustain me. If not, and should I fail, may I be strong enough to endure what I face without compromise. My eternal soul depends on it.

After I shower, while brushing my hair in the bathroom, Collin steps in behind me and circles my waist with his arms. “Are you ready for this?”

Looking at his reflection in the mirror, I nod. I’m ready for the fight, but I’m not a fool. There’s still a chance I’ll die. Or, even worse, I’ll be kept alive for days of torture while the ones I care about are ripped apart. They know what I did to those boys in the woods. Would my fate be any less?

Before leaving for the bank, Collin ties a braided band around the finger on my left hand. The symbol links our souls. We’re tied together for an eternity regardless of the number of hours, days or years we pass here on earth. Our lips find each other once more, hungry and longing before I head to the car. This may be the last time I’ll feel his kiss and because of it, my heart aches.

The neighborhood is uniquely quiet. The birds don’t sing this day. Lesser angels, birds always seem to know when one of their own is in danger.

I take the long way to work, watching sunlight caressing flowers in the freeway median. Gliders float through the sky above the academy. Pikes Peak is nearly melted. The campfire-like odor of charred trees on the west side brings the hint of a memory I push from my mind. I wonder if I’ll always think of that night.

When I arrive, Sarah is already there, working away at her computer, barely acknowledging my presence. Tension seems to hang in the air like the smoke from this summer’s wildfires. I don’t lock myself in my office, though. Leaving the door wide open, I want Sarah to come to me. My hope is she’ll make a mistake that betrays her. I prefer to be as prepared as possible. Oddly, she avoids my office and when I speak to her, she doesn’t react as she normally would. Not a hint of perkiness in her tone today. Perhaps she’s preparing herself as well. I’ve no doubt she’s already been made aware that I know.

Toward the end of the day, she comes into my office, cradling a newspaper. “Such sad news.” She says it with a less than sad expression, laying the paper on my desk.

Today, she doesn’t wear a jacket as she usually does. Her sleeves are rolled to her elbows as if she wants me to see her arms. I oblige her by searching her wrists for thick, long scars but there are none. She wasn’t there that night. There are several other long-healed scars up and down her arms. She’d fought demons many years before. Now she hunts me. I’m surprised at the boldness of the gesture to expose her past, especially the fresh scar just a few days old.

That night in the alley, I swung into the darkness at the one who broke my ribs. With the demon’s knife in my hand, I cut the shadow killer, ending their assault on me. Had to be Sarah. She bears the fresh scar. No wonder she sounded tired the next day. And I had felt guilty for leaving so much on her shoulders. I look for another fresh scar from the night at the hospital. The one I’d inflicted while Collin was finishing off the demon, right before I was stabbed in the back with Rick’s scalpel. I’d swiped the air and hit someone. But that wound isn’t there. I wonder if I’ll recognize it on one of the rogues I’ll meet tonight.

When a smile crosses my face, she realizes I’m studying the mark I’d given her. Her feigned pity disappears as her eyes glare into mine. She feels my satisfaction over having wounded her, I can see it on her face, feel it in her aura.

Picking up the paper, I scan the front page until finding the article. A family killed in their sleep. The father was murdered in his bed, his flesh shredded like cheese. ‘Unrecognizable’ they reported. The mother was tied to a chair and tortured. They believe she had been repeatedly violated by the intruders. Wouldn’t say how they knew. Their ten-year-old daughter was found strangled in her room, a royal blue necktie wrapped around her throat, similar to the one tied to the fifteen-year-old found the day before. They’re guessing the two incidents are connected. The fifteen-year-old girl is the same age I was when my father died in a somewhat similar way. The woman also died similar to my mother. I was seventeen then.

Sarah waits as I turn away and close my eyes. “They said there was no forced entry. Hmm. Who do you think could do something like that?” I open my eyes as she crosses in front of my desk and picks up the paper. “I wonder if they pleaded for their lives. I can tell you, if it was me, I’d beg them to kill me.” Her voice is flat and unemotional.

She stares me in the eyes so I glare back to show the message was received. The fury in my eyes is enough to satisfy her and she smiles wryly, sauntering out of the room. She tipped her hand trying to scare me. What she doesn’t realize is that I know more than she thinks and I won’t make a mistake. Instead of being scared, I’m angry for the family I was unable to save.

For the next two hours, I run through the past week in my mind with new information to help put the events into perspective. Every moment I can force myself to remember from the dream in Collin’s gallery, all the way up to the second Sarah walked out of my office this afternoon. Then, I go further back, to my earliest memories.

Everything my parents told me, every fight Grandma shared, is imprinted in my mind. I know they worried for me. I have no doubt they understood they wouldn’t be here for this. What they taught me was meant to help in this moment. They had faith. They knew my potential and educated me to that end. My father taught me to fight like a man. My mother taught me how to throw them off guard using my femininity. Grandma sharpened my ability to focus on finer details. I can’t let them down any longer by entertaining suicidal thoughts and death wishes. Now it’s time to fight like I’ve never fought before.

All of those particulars are in the forefront of my memory, ready to be accessed as needed. I’ll use them each moment of the fight, reaching into the past as was meant to be. My legacy. Knowing which mistakes they’re expecting me to make.

Using my cell to call Collin, I ask him to meet me at his house. “I’m working late tonight. Will you have dinner ready when I arrive?”

After a short and sweet conversation that feels a little too domestic for my comfort, I make a call to Rick. I decide to leave work slightly early to meet Rick at his office in the clinic. He has a sleeping pill ready for me to take. I shoot Sarah a promising look filled with vehemence as I leave. While at Rick’s, I slip a scalpel from the drawer into my purse without his knowledge. He won’t miss it. I’m sure he has plenty.

Oddly enough, he doesn’t ask my intentions as far as Collin and our situation is concerned. Perhaps he’s distracted with an overload of patients today. His waiting room is rather full. Before leaving, I ask him to meet me in twenty minutes for drinks at the micro-brew around the corner. He eagerly agrees.

After leaving the clinic, I stop at a nearby grocery store. There are items I need to purchase before going home tonight. Then, I can relax with Rick and have a last drink.

At exactly twenty minutes after five he shows up at the bar. I’ve traded my conservative clothing for something more revealing. I want his last memory of me to be exciting, one he’ll remember until his last moments. My clingy shirt is unbuttoned to just below my bust. A short, tight skirt the color of deep blue falls less than six inches below my behind. Being well-tanned, I don’t need stockings. A pair of pumps that match my skirt elongate my legs.

I’ve taken the liberty of ordering apple martinis for us. Two each.

When Rick enters the bar, his eyes lock on me immediately, smiling while heading to where I’m seated. Once he’s at my side, he reaches for my chin and pulls me toward him, giving me a long, passionate kiss, his teeth scraping my lips, and nearly knocking me off my stool. He makes it apparent he appreciates what he sees.

“My, my, I didn’t anticipate this. Did you change your mind and decide to toss Collin to the rogues he exposed you to?”

“No. I’ve decided to go in on my own. Tonight’s my last night and I thought I’d spend some of that time with the man I love, drinking martinis. To hell with Collin.” I hold up my glass in a toast.

He smiles at my comment. “Jaime, is there anything I can do to change your mind?”

“No.” I take a long sip of my appletini and set it down. “Drink up. I don’t wanna drink alone and I don’t wanna talk about anything depressing. This is my last night.” I throw back the last of my drink. “You need to catch up.” I smile at him again.

“Well, this is a treat. I’ve never had apple martinis before.”

“Real name is appletini. See the seeds in the bottom? Try not to swallow them.”

Smiling again, I remove the sliver of apple from the edge of my glass. After dipping it into my drink, I lift the slice to my lips and suck cool drops of alcohol from the green skin and pale flesh. Rick watches every movement with his mouth open, practically drooling.

“Get ready, they have a kick, but once you get past the tartness you’ll enjoy the resulting buzz.” My smile makes him grin.

I can hear his pulse pick up so I cross my legs slowly. Both by his slack expression and the spike in his emotions, I can tell he notices I’m not wearing panties. He takes a long drink of his martini while still trying to see up my skirt. Suddenly, his face puckers as he shakes off the sharp after-taste.

“Good, huh?”

He smiles back at me and nods, unable to say a word.

“Say, Rick, why don’t you wear a watch?”

He looks down at his wrist. “Oh, I usually do when I go out. They bother me when I’m at work, though, my hands always getting wet. I worry I’ll ruin it.” He gives me an appreciative smile.

“You know, I love Breitling. Such a masculine timepiece. You should get one,” I tell him and watch his reaction.

His face lights up. “I already have one. You have great taste in watches, among so many other things.” Staring down at my legs again, he runs his hand up my thigh and over to the back of my skirt coming to rest on the roundness of my behind. “I love this color on you.”

“I had no doubt you would.” Finishing off the second martini, I order another round of four. “They’re on me tonight,” I tell him and give my sultry look. “Finish up. The next round is almost here.”

“Jaime, have I told you how beautiful you are?” He’s admiring my legs again by tracing my thigh with his fingertips. “You know, I fell in love the first time I saw you. I’ve loved you for years, literally centuries, you know that? Do you know that?”

“Doc? Are you a light drinker?” I smile at him and he begins to laugh.

“I don’t ever drink.” His speech is starting to slur. How cute.

“Since this is my going away party, you’ll drink for me, though, right?”

He grins and hick-ups.

“And then you’ll go home and sleep and not tell Collin I’m at home dreaming, right?”

He smiles again.

“I knew I could count on you. Here’s our next round. Drink up.”

The bartender is studying us. “You know I can’t let him leave if he drinks these. He’s already looped.”

“Don’t worry, we’re friends, celebrating a new beginning, right, Ricky?”

He burps and raises his glass to me before taking a sip.

“I’ll give him a ride.”

The bartender looks at me sideways. “How do I know you can handle your liquor better than he can?”

I down the third drink and set the glass on the bar. “Do I look like I can’t handle my drink?”

He chuckles and smiles at me. “Don’t get me in trouble. Get yourselves home in one piece, okay?”

Leaning on the bar so that my shirt opens enough to flash him a peek, I smile and flirt back. “I wouldn’t think of getting you in trouble.”

“Hey, don’t flirt with my girl. She’s mine tonight.” Rick waves his arm across the surface of the bar to shoo the bartender away. “Give me one more a those apple things. They’re better the more you have.”

“I knew you’d like ‘em.” I smile and shove the next glass in front of him. “Drink up.”

Before he can down the martini, nearly half of it spills in his lap then down his shirt as he slurps the last drops and sets his glass on the bar. “Delicious!”

Reaching for Rick’s hands, I caress his fingers with mine while staring deep into his eyes. In his drunken state he opens his mind freely to me. I don’t have to go too far back into his memory before having the information I need. Releasing his hands, I turn back to the drinks on the bar.

“Look! We both have only one more.” I pick mine up and hold it in the air. He lifts his and I clink the edge of his glass with mine. “Salute!”

Before a drop reaches my lips, Rick stops me, waving his hand in the air. “Wait, what’re we toasting to?” His speech is sloppy.

“Here’s to…finding truth in the darkness, to drinking the poison that kills the evil lurking in corners and shadows.”

“That’s a rather odd toast, but here, here!” After spilling more alcohol in his lap, he swigs his drink as I watch, assessing his sobriety, or lack thereof. Satisfied he’s well inebriated, I throw mine back and set my glass down.

Rick notices me watching with an empty glass in front of me. “How, how do you jrink those so fass?” His speech is more slurred, can barely get the words out. Perfect.

“Let’s go, Doc. You’re gonna need to sleep this off. Sorry for the headache you’ll have later.” I wink at the bartender and lead Doc to the door by the royal blue tie around his neck. I can feel the varying sets of eyes on my legs as we cross the room.

For most of the ride, his hand caresses my thigh and I allow it, trying to be patient with his drunkenness. Half a mile from his home, however, he turns to me and slides his right hand up my skirt. Before he reaches anything of significance, I make a hard left then a hard right to pass another car on the freeway, throwing him back into his seat.

Alcohol can bring out the worst in people. The part of their personality they’re most ashamed of is usually the side that takes over when their defenses are numbed. I’m patient with Rick as he displays his hidden qualities, though. This is all part of my plan. He unwittingly played along.

At his home, I help him inside and to his room.

“Stay with me, Jaime. Sleep with me. I promise I’ll be a gettl, gettleman.” He pulls me onto his bed and tries to kiss me while his hand slips into my shirt.

“Oho, kay, drunk man. I’d love to stay, but I have a date with an angel.” Pulling the covers over his body, I leave his suit and dress shoes on. “A nasty little rogue angel. Oh, and I’m gonna borrow some butterfly needles and a bit of tape, okay? Don’t forget, I have those butterfly needles on me. Do you have any cyanide?” He grins and starts to mumble so I put a finger to my lips.

“What do you want with butter…butter…fly needles and cy…nide?” His voice fades as he falls asleep, a smile still caught on his face.

“That’s my man.”

I kneel down and slip a small box, lid lifted, under his bed. Before rising to my feet, I cover my fingers and lips with powder, and then reach for his hands and kiss him good night, leaving residue on his fingers and lips. Immediately going into the bathroom, I scrub my hands and mouth; then, I set to searching his home.

His massive living room has a large fireplace with mortared rock from floor to ceiling as a centerpiece. Not even the vaulted ceilings can diminish the impact. Impressive. The scent of burnt wood still lingers. As I reach out and touch the rough surface, I push away painful thoughts. That memory ends tonight. My fingers reach under the lip, feeling for the flue and the placement of the lever. It’ll do.

There are several bedrooms as well as an expansive study with overloaded bookshelves, small bronze statues here and there, very similar to another room I’ve seen in my not too distant past. Pedestals throughout his home prop up larger marble and bronze pieces, a Cervantes’ Don Quixote bronze in mid joust, Icarus in black marble, many more. Each of them is worth more than I make in a year. He has an interesting taste in décor. Tells a lot about the man.

One of Collin’s vases, the one I recognize well, sits on a high shelf. I know Collin’s pieces aren’t cheap either. I had no idea Doc made so much in his small family practice. No wonder he was offended at Collin’s offer of money for his assistance. That’s definitely not what he was after.

Finding what I need, I leave, keeping his front door unlocked behind me. I have to get home and to sleep before Collin becomes suspicious. The fight has to be over before he tries to find me. Popping the sleeping pill in my mouth as I travel, I swallow it dry. The sedative effect should be acting on my body by the time I arrive.

When my head hits the pillow, my mind is clear. I know what to do. There will be no mistakes made this evening.

Tonight, I don’t hunt demons. I hunt angels.