A Shimmer of Angels (17 page)

“So does this mean you’re real? Really real?”

Cam’s hand was still on my back. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to. I couldn’t get any more proof than I already had.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The moment I came through the front door, I discovered how late it really was.

Dad sat in the dining-room chair facing the foyer, arms crossed over his chest. “Where have you been? I was there at ten to pick you up. Your boss said you ran out before your shift was over. I drove around for half an hour looking for you.” His fingers drummed over his arm, a sure sign he was barely keeping his voice under control.

I rubbed the back of my neck, suppressing the utter joy inside me. I’d been forbidden from seeing the men with wings—angels—had lost so much of my life denying them, but now … now I knew they were real. Or I was intensely more schizophrenic than before. But Cam … his questions, his answers, our entire conversation, I couldn’t have made that up.

Tears pricked my eyes and my nose stung. I … wasn’t crazy. Not for seeing them. Three years locked away. Pills. Therapy. None of it had been necessary.

I would never take another med again.

My mouth slid opened, and I took my first full breath in years. Hope for true sanity bloomed in my chest.

I hadn’t allowed myself to think about it on my way home, and I sure as hell couldn’t relish it now. They’d all still see it as crazy because they couldn’t know the truth. I also wasn’t prepared to pull an excuse out of the air. But I should have been. “Dad, could we please talk about this in the morning? I had a weird day and—”

He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward in his chair. “Have you been crying?” His voice softened. He left his seat and hugged me. I tried to stand still and let him. “Do you need to talk to someone?” The way he said
someone
told me he meant a professional.

Not Dr. G
. I shook my head, but he only squeezed me tighter. His leniency should have been an incredible gift, but Dad usually only softened this way because he was afraid of pushing too hard, worried I’d break. He must have thought I was losing it again. Running out of the diner before my shift ended probably made me look pretty crazy.

The fragile way he stroked my hair made me realize just how close I was to being sent back. Tears blurred my eyes for the twentieth time tonight, and the wetness streaked down my face.

“Don’t cry, Ray, please. We can talk about this tomorrow, after I get you a cell phone.”

“Cell phone? I don’t want one.” Of all the things to obsess over, I chose the damn cell phone. Guess it was easier to fight than mental hospital stuff.

“I know you don’t, but you are getting one, and you
will
answer when I call. I need to know where you are. At all times.” The dad-voice intensified.

Exactly why I didn’t want one. “Sorry, Dad. Not happening.”

He stepped back, breaking the hug. “You don’t have a choice, young lady.” He returned to his seat, tapping his foot on the floor. “Unless you quit your job, then maybe we can put off the cell phone.”

After what I saw there today, quitting didn’t sound like such a bad idea. The thought of having to return to Roxy’s Diner and see that … that soul stealer, to face him with the terror dripping from my palms, made me feel ill.

Dad frowned, emphasizing lines around his mouth I’d never noticed before. His long face showed how tired he was, how ready to give up. Would things be different if Mom was still here?
Of course they would
. I pushed the thought away.

“I’ll take the cell phone. And keep my job.”

I trudged up the stairs to my room, washed my face, and climbed into bed. Anxiety pounded through me every time I closed my eyes. There would be no sleep this night.

***

Saturday came and went without a trace of Kade, though I checked around every corner and held my breath whenever the bell over the diner door chimed—especially after nightfall.

Sunday broke my lucky streak. Daphne rested her corns in the back, and Shelly called in sick—something about her partying too hard and never making it home. Between two or three in the afternoon, the sky darkened with the promise of rain. It was then the soul stealer strolled through the diner door.

Of all the diners in all the world … he has to stroll into mine
. Mom’s favorite movie had been
Casablanca
.

I glanced over my last few customers and stepped back, only stopping when I bumped into the back counter. The new cell phone Dad had forced into my pocket this morning dug into my hip. I took a deep, steadying breath, squared my shoulders, and grabbed the coffee pot.

“Coffee today?”

I remembered the way he’d sucked the soul out of the blonde in the back alley. “‘Cause we’re not sating any other needs here tonight.” Maybe it was stupid, but somehow, I wanted him to know what I’d seen. And that I wasn’t scared of him. Because I wasn’t. I was terrified.

His smile was all pleasantness. It was the only part of his face I allowed my gaze to drift over. “Coffee’s fine.”

I poured the lunch-batch tar into a mug. My hands shook as I set it in front of him, and a little sloshed over the rim. He ignored the spill, wrapping his large hands around the mug and tapping the rim with an impatient finger.

“So, wild night Friday.”

I fired him the dirtiest look I could manage. It was a mistake, as it put those rich, dark orbs in my direct line of view. One corner of his desperately in-need-of-a-shave lip twisted up. The charcoal cable-knit sweater he wore over a black t-shirt was thick enough to battle the light mist outside, but he made a show of turning up the collar. His darkly stained wings flared, swallowing the whole length of the counter.

The chill that crept beneath my pink dress had nothing to do with the temperature inside the diner. Again, I hardened my expression and dropped my gaze.

“How do you do it?” The smoky bass in his voice rode my spine like a rollercoaster.

I returned the coffee pot to its holder—before I dropped it again—and leaned back against the counter. I rested my elbows back on either side of me, hoping for an air of casualness I didn’t feel. “Do what?”

His smile stretched in an almost genuine way. “See me.” He tipped his chin up, gesturing to his wings. He folded them back behind his back.

I tried to shrug, but ended up with a jerky, half-movement. “Magic.”

He sipped his coffee. “Sarcasm. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

I had enough fear in me to run screaming from him—or pass out behind the counter—but the SS Crazy had taught me more than just a love of gardening. It had taught me how to mask what I was feeling. Most of the time. Guess being on the inside was finally starting to pay off. Then again, I’d never had a true, life-or-death motivation before. “How do
you
do it?”

He glanced up. His brows lifted, creasing his forehead. “Do what?”

“Take innocent lives.” I didn’t know that the blonde was dead, but it seemed a safe bet after what Cam had told me in the park Friday night.

The laugh that rolled from his throat wasn’t the malicious one I expected. “What are you talking about? I love humans, as much as my maker does. I wouldn’t kill them. You all …
fascinate
me.” He didn’t even have the good sense to lower his voice.

I shuddered. “Can’t say I believe you after what I saw.”

He smiled again, this time baring perfect teeth. “Can’t say I blame you.” His voice was darker. “Now, can I get some more coffee?”

Only if I can spit in it first.
My gaze dodged his, looking toward the kitchen. I hoped Daphne would return soon.

I grabbed the pot. “I think you’re a murderer.” My voice came out low, keeping his secret from the eleven other patrons in the diner. I placed my hand on the counter to steady myself as I poured.

His hand snapped around my wrist. I jerked back, spilling a perfectly yucky cup of coffee.

Kade abandoned his seat. Both his hands encircled my arms, steadying me, looking for all the world like he was comforting the poor, clumsy waitress.

I gathered a handful of pink skirt in my free hand to keep from shouting and drawing more unwanted attention. I shot invisible lasers at him and imagined slamming the coffee pot in his face just to keep it together. To take my mind off his hands around me, I closed my eyes. I couldn’t let anyone see the crazy. No way I’d ever go back, and I damn sure wasn’t about to let Kade be the one to put me there.

“You’re right,” he whispered, his mouth too close to my ear. I shot a frantic look around the diner, but except for a few curious glances, no one seemed ready to intervene. “But I don’t kill humans. That girl is just fine.” His dark gaze bore through me, drifted across my skin. I scratched the scabs in my right palm and they burst free. Pain throbbed in my nerve endings. Warm liquid filled my palm and absorbed into my skirt. He released me.

I stumbled back, slipping on the spilled coffee. Kade watched as my back slammed into the back counter and I went down. The coffee pot shattered against the tile floor, littering me with tiny fragments of glass and a hot rush of coffee. I called out, but let the shout die down to a gasp when the closest table of customers popped up from their seats.

Kade dipped down and pulled me up by my hands before I could scurry away across the glass. “You okay?” A slight grin rode the curve of his lip.

Once on my feet, I inched back from him, careful not to slip.

All eyes were on me. It felt like the cafeteria at school all over again. I squeezed my eyes shut.
Regroup.

I opened my eyes again and forced a chuckle. With Kade securely in the corner of my eye, I took a bow, first to the right, then the left. A few of the customers applauded, and the two who had stood up returned to their seats, looking embarrassed for me. With my teeth gritted and a half-smile still on my lips, I hissed at Kade, “Get back.”

To my surprise, he did, returning to his seat at the counter. I retreated into the back for the mop and nearly lost it. I’d pressed myself against the wall beside the kitchen’s swinging doors for a few seconds too long when I noticed Jose, my favorite cook, watching me. Braving another fake smile, I pulled the mop bucket out, accidentally doubling the normal amount of solution, and turned on the hot water. Suds formed a dome over the top of the bucket too quickly, so I switched off the water.

Daphne’s office door remained closed. At least one person had missed my spectacular fail. But what on earth was I going to do with Kade? Jose flipped the two burgers on the flat top and added cheese to one. He shook out the excess oil from the fry basket. I wrapped two paper towels around my right hand to stay the bleeding, then wheeled the mop and bucket out to the diner floor.

I mopped, replaced the broken coffee pot with an extra from the back, and served table fifteen their burgers when Jose put them out. I used the time to collect myself. At first all I could think about was running. Then I thought about Allison. Tony. Luke. If Cam was right, whoever was taking the lives of my classmates wasn’t done. Still, it wasn’t my fight. Just because I could see their wings didn’t mean I was somehow going to save the world. The thought of that was not only ridiculous, but absurd. I was only a girl; a tired, confused girl who could barely keep herself out of a mental hospital.

I looked down at the mop bucket. The water was red. I jerked back, blinked. The mucky water in the bucket was a dirty brown. Not blood. Not Allison’s blood spilled across the bathroom floor.

My mind worked, wondering if Kade had cut Allison’s wrists so many days ago. If he came to Tony DiMeeko’s house and fashioned him a noose. If he would soon track down Luke.

No. If I got involved, I would be so far beyond screwed. One way or another, it would be the nail in my coffin. Either I would be sent back, or I’d end up dead, too.

I had to stay out of this. I had to. Absolutely had to.

Unless …

I shook my head and wrung the mop out, refusing another look at Kade as I rolled the entire contraption into the back to dump the bucket and rinse the mop in clean water.

I could tell Cam that I saw the Fallen again. No one would know, so long as I stayed out of it beyond that. It would be between him and me. If I was feeling brave, I could question Kade while he was here, among so many other people. I could use his own trick against him. Then I could report back to Cam.

But I’d have to catch him off guard.

I tucked the mop and bucket away in the kitchen corner beside the swinging doors. Nothing would catch him more off guard than if I stitched myself together and interrogated him right now.

I pushed through the doors and returned to the counter. Before Kade could find another way to rattle me, or I could talk myself out of this, I said, “Cam told me you and your kind are responsible for the suicides at Stratford Independence High School.” My heart pounded between each word.

His lip curled up in a sneer at Cam’s name, much the same reaction Cam had had when I’d mentioned Kade’s name to him. Flat black filled the whites of his eyes, swallowing the once rich brown of his irises. “Aren’t you full of surprises?”

“So it
is
true.”

“Camael’s partly right. But I’m staying out of
their
mess. I’ve got enough problems without adding all the shit I’m sure is following your precious
Cam
around these days.”

Holy crap. Cam was right. The dark-winged angels were responsible. Maybe, if I kept him talking, I could find out who was behind Allison and Tony’s murders. I’d spent enough time making friends with unstable people, and Kade didn’t seem too different from them—both required the need to watch my back.

Kade leaned forward on the counter. “I’m not here for all that. I’m here for you.”

“For me?” I glanced around the diner, glad for the patrons still at their tables.

He smirked, his fingers tapping a staccato on his empty coffee mug. “Yep.
All
for you.”

“Heh.” I breathed out a nervous laugh. He had to be pushing my buttons on purpose, messing with me to see how far he could push me before I snapped. The joke was on him, because I’d snapped a long time ago.