A Matter of Time (The Angel Sight Series) (13 page)

Our nights together in Hell replayed themselves, some good, some terrible, but we were always together. Until we weren’t. He was taken. But he came back. For me.

He was the one that brought me to Cam. He had to be. That meant it was probably him that told Cam to keep me in the fog.

I couldn’t remember much more, had no idea how we got out, or even how we attempted to escape. Those memories were buried too deep.

I crawled forward and clawed at the tree. Pain stabbed beneath my nail bed, but I kept digging until I freed a scrap of bark. I sat there for a long time, holding that piece of bark in both hands. Eventually, a chill crept over my exposed skin, pulling me from the memories of Kade.

I’d been gone too long. Cam would be worried.

I rinsed the dried blood from beneath my fingers, which had healed, and started for the cabin. Halfway there I remembered to go back for the berry bucket.

With one hand, I stroked the bark in my pocket while I walked to the cabin.

“How’d you do?” Cam asked, not looking up from his watering can.

“Good. Another full bucket.” I remembered dropping the bucket and losing some berries in the stream. “Mostly full bucket.”

His wings shone like gold bars in the sun, throwing out light so bright I had to blink against the glare. How had I thought that was normal? The sight of those bright and brilliant colors dragged me back to another memory, one not so long ago.

Cam had stared out a window, not the cabin window, one much larger with heavy drapes on either side. His voice was far away as he described the random things he loved on Earth. I felt drawn to him. The next thing I knew, I was kissing him, pushing him back on the couch. A man—an angel—watched us. A warning pricked me like a thorn. The sword by his side intensified my worry. Elyon. Cam’s superior.

Cam, the real Cam, ran to my side, his dirt-covered fingers digging into my arm. “What happened?”

I shook the memory off along with his grip. “Ow, geez, nothing. I just stubbed my toe. Dial it back some, I’m not going to burst into flames.”

He didn’t leave my personal space, which weirded me out a little. How was I supposed to snoop around if he was always here? Which gave me an idea. “Seriously, stop hovering.” I slapped his hand away when it hovered near again. “In fact, since we have all these berries, I was thinking of making some pie. Would you mind running to the nearest store to get a few things?”

“We have everything we need.”

“Maybe for one or two pies, but look at all these berries. We can make a few and freeze them so we can eat them … ” When? Next season? Next year? How long did he think I would put up with this step-above-prisoner thing? “You know, later on.”

“You know how to make pie?”

Not. A. Clue. But he didn’t have to know that. “Of course I do.”

“And you’ll be okay here by yourself?”

“Or you can take me with you.”

Tension rimmed his eyes, as if he could see through my plan.

I reeled my eagerness in. “But I’d probably be more useful here. I can start prepping.” I heaved the bucket up onto the porch, right next to the narrow butcher-block table he usually prepped veggies on.

Since he hadn’t so much as blinked, I darted inside, grabbed a kitchen towel, our only mixing bowl, and a knife. I wiped down the butcher block with the towel, placed the bowl on the outside corner, and dropped the knife inside it. I dumped some of the berries out, then got to work slicing them in half, which I hoped made sense for a pie.

Though I doubted Cam had ever baked anything before. In case he had, I needed to sell this. “Slicing the fruit in half was one of my family’s secrets. It starts the process of releasing the juices so the pie will be … uh, juicier.” I flipped on a smile. Finding Cam slightly more accepting, I put my head down and tossed the cut berries into the bowl.

“What do you need?” he finally asked.

Oh crap. “Um, it’s been a while since I made this. Probably sugar, flour … ” What else? C’mon, what else? “Butter! Lots and lots of butter.” Now I wished I’d taken the time to bake something—anything—before. “That should be it. We can manage without some of the fancier ingredients.”

“Are you sure? If you want, I can go early tomorrow morning and be back before you wake up.”

Little good that would do me. “If we wait, the pies won’t taste as fresh as they should. I’ll be fine. Just don’t forget the butter. And maybe some milk. Nothing goes better with a warm pie than cold milk. Maybe even ice cream?”

“Now you’re pushing your luck.” Cam rolled up his sleeves and dusted off his shirt. “The ice cream would never make it back in time. But I’ll try with the milk. Just promise me you’ll take it easy.”

“Scout’s honor.” I tucked my thumb and pinkie finger in and held up my right hand. Just like I remembered doing with Dad once or twice.

Dad.

I quickly closed my eyes against the onslaught of fresh tears.

“You okay?”

Damn it. “Yeah, but would you hurry up and go? Your wings are so bright they’re making my eyes water.”

“Fine.” He half laughed. “I’ll be back soon. Take it easy.”

“I will.”

I squinted and returned to berry slicing, glad to have something to distract me so I didn’t fall apart with him still so close.

I started counting to a hundred the moment he disappeared into the woods behind the cabin. At least now I knew which way led to civilization. He could still be there though, watching me. And more memories came by the second. Dad, Laylah, Aunt Nora. Mom.

I dropped the knife and went inside, not stopping until I was in the bathroom in front of the mirror. My wings could heal. That explained why my thorn prick had healed so quick.

I shook the tears from my eyes. This stuff I could deal with later. I only had so much time before Cam returned. I wiped my eyes and left the bathroom. There had to be something here, under all this junk, that would spark more memories. Maybe even something Cam wouldn’t want me to see.

With no game plan whatsoever, I started under the bed, working my way up under the mattress and sheets. Nothing. I moved to the kitchen, checking behind the fridge, in every cupboard. That left the table. Unwilling to waste any more time, I swept Cam’s god-awful whittlings off the table with my forearm, watching them bounce satisfyingly to the floor. The layer of magazines beneath got the same treatment. A map remained atop the wood tabletop.

Another flash of memory. Not a map,
the
map. Red splotches. Blue splotches. San Francisco. Then Cam’s eyes blinding me.

He’d erased my memory while I stood in this very spot. How many times? And more importantly, how long until he did it again?

I’d be damned if I gave him another chance. I yanked the map off the table. A smaller scrap of paper floated to the floor. I knelt to pick it up. Written in dark ink was
Kade
, followed by ten digits. He’d left Cam a way to reach him.

I folded the map into a square small enough to fit in my back pocket and shoved Kade’s number in my front pocket. Then I grabbed one of Cam’s heavier lumberjack shirts off the coat rack and started running.

Chapter Twenty-One

Kade

I was sipping what New Orleans had the gall to call coffee and choking down a warm beignet flocked with powdered sugar surrounded by nearly a hundred people when my phone rang. The area code of the caller was in Colorado. I fumbled with the touch screen, smearing powdered sugar across the face of the phone.

“What happened?” I asked.

“She tore the place apart, then left,” Cam said.

“What?” My tone garnered more attention than I was hoping for. I dropped a twenty on the café’s table and headed for the exit. “Why didn’t you stop her?”

“She knew exactly what she was doing. She sent me to the store. When I got back, she was gone.”

“Shit.”

“There’s no way for me to know how much she remembers, but expect a call from her. She found the number you left. Took me a few tries to get you without it.”

“Why aren’t you out looking for her?”

“What do you think I’m doing right now? I called to let you know. You’re welcome.” He hung up the phone. With force.

I glanced at my cell every few seconds while I made my way through the French Quarter.
What are you up to, Ray?
She had to have regained some of her memories. That might not be such a bad deal.

I skipped returning to the hotel altogether. I didn’t leave anything there that wasn’t replaceable. Instead, I steered straight toward the large parking lot by the harbor to snag a new ride. Ray was out there somewhere, alone, with the memory of Hell coming back to her, and every creature with wings was out hunting for her.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Rayna

Now that I thought of it, leaving with a handful of nothing wasn’t the smartest idea. Three miles up the road I began to wish I’d at least packed water. But the further I walked, the more I remembered. It was as if I was walking through Hell all over again.

The small, run down market on the main road had seen better days. Only half the gutters were still in place. The other half were filled with last year’s debris. The pay phone out front, covered in gum and graffiti, was a long shot, but at this point I’d try anything.

I picked up the receiver and held my breath before I put it to my ear. My heart leaped when I heard a dial tone. With my memory still fuzzy and not a cent to my name, I made a collect call to the number written on Cam’s paper.

The phone rang. The automated operator asked if the collect call would be accepted. A lump formed in my throat while I waited. Then the call connected.

“Ray?”

“Kade,” I whispered, reminding myself of the way I had said his name in my memory.

“Thank God.”

“God has nothing to do with it,” I found myself saying instinctively. Instantly I remembered it as something he used to say to me.

His breath blew against the receiver, a small laugh. “Where are you?”

“I’m not sure.” While it was the truth, I felt a little guilty not giving him the entire picture. But I had to protect myself. Just because I remembered the way I felt about him once down in Hell, didn’t mean I’d feel the same way now. It also didn’t guarantee him my trust. After all, he did dump me on Cam with instructions to consistently wipe my memories.

“Ray, I’m glad you’re getting your memory back, I am, but I think it would be best if you go back to the cabin.”

I shook my head, not giving a damn that he wouldn’t be able to see me. “I need to see you, to talk to you.”

“I’m on my way. We can talk at the cabin. Cam will keep you safe until I get there.”

“Go back to the cabin? Why? So Cam can continue taking my memories away and you can go on with your life?” I glanced behind each shoulder to check if anyone had heard me.

“At least your stubbornness is back,” Kade retorted.

“So are you done blowing me off?”

“I already told you I’m on my way. To tell the truth,” he added in a calmer voice, “I’m glad you snuck away from that asshat.”

I couldn’t help laughing.

“Where are you? I can be there by tomorrow afternoon.”

“I have no idea. Some small market. Probably five miles from the cabin.”

“If you keep going along that road, there’s a motel, maybe thirty miles from where you are. Stay off the main road, if you can.” He fired off a set of instructions I hoped I could remember. “And Ray.” He paused.

I looked up from the colorless blob of gum near the change return, almost expecting to see his rich brown eyes through the convenience store window. “Yeah?” I eked out.

“Be careful. Stay away from people, if you can.”

Tamping down my curiosity, I agreed.

The hollow clang of the phone to its cradle echoed in my ears as I walked away.

I walked for miles, stopping only to drink water from the creeks that didn’t look green and muddled. My stomach was growling by the time the sun set, forcing me to stop for the night. I huddled against a tree trunk in Cam’s thick over shirts, barely getting any sleep. The night had nearly frozen me out, but I’d been through colder—the tunnels in Hell and Lucifer’s cell of ice. Both were places I would never return to.

I awoke to hundreds of ants crawling over my skin. I shook Cam’s shirt off and hung it on a nearby tree, and then jumped in the closest creek to rinse down. Once I was bug-free—and once again freezing—I started the day’s walk, sticking close to the road.

About halfway through the day, with the heat sweltering and the sun finally at my back, I spotted several cars stopped up ahead. I ducked deeper into the trees and moved forward cautiously. Atop the narrow bridge that led over the widening river beneath was a group of people. Not quite cops, but with the guns they had holstered on their hips, they weren’t quite civilians either.

What was going on around here?

The path Kade told me to follow was on the other side of that bridge. My choices were to cross on the bridge or under it. I took one more look at the man on the middle of the bridge leaning on a shotgun, and decided to traverse the embankment toward the river.

Wet soil shifted beneath my feet. Thank Heaven for the thickness of trees; otherwise I would have slumped right into the river. I weaved through the trunks, holding onto one then another until I reached the end of the tree line.

I glanced up at the bridge, then at the river. The armed men were letting cars through one at a time after checking something, paperwork and IDs it looked like. From down here, the river roared, a constant torrent. The spike in my pulse and sudden weakness in my stomach made me question my decision to cross here, and what else in my past I still had to uncover.

There appeared to be enough muddy earth beneath the bridge to slink by and cross further up the embankment where the river appeared calmer and narrower. But the people at the top of the bridge were stationed in all four directions. So I sat back and waited. I would wait until nightfall if I had to.