Child of Mercy (4 page)

“That’s cold, woman,” he sighed, offering me the bottle, but I shook it away.  “But I gotta admire your gumption,” he said, his grin returning.  “I reckon that’ll come in handy when the shit hits the fan.”

“Is that why you’re here?  In case the shitstorm takes a turn in my direction?  I don’t get it, if Adam was so worried about my safety, why leave in the first place?”

“He’s got it in his fool head he’s protectin’ ya better by bein’ apart,” Remiel shrugged, and a thought occurred to me. 

“How much is he paying you to babysit me?”  

“Don’t worry your pretty…”

“…little head about it,” I finished for him, hearing Adam’s voice in my head at the words.  “Alright then, I’m always glad to have another person in my corner, but I don’t know what kind of danger I’m really in.  I haven’t heard a peep from the guys upstairs.  For all I know, they’re not even watching right now.”

“Pretty soon it’s gonna be real obvious you’re in a family way though,” he pointed out, propping his feet up on the coffee table. 

“Comfy?” I asked mildly, with a pointed look at his feet.

“Gettin’ that way.  Don’t suppose you could rustle me up some tacos or somethin’, could ya?”

  Was he for real?  “Look, I might appreciate you checking up on me every now and again to make sure I’m okay, and I’ll give a holler if I get into trouble, but I’m not your slave girl either.”

“Course not, you’re wearin’ way too much for that gig,” he winked.

“Well, there’s a great taco stand right around the corner, feel free to stop by on the way out.”  I tried to make it clear I meant immediately, but he didn’t budge an inch.

“That’s alright, I don’t mind stayin’ to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Better safe than sorry.  ‘Sides, I like it here fine.”

That had a much more final ring to it than I liked to hear.  “You weren’t planning on staying here with me, were you?”  My eyes narrowed suspiciously when his grin widened.

“Why not?  Don’t worry, I won’t hog the covers none.”

“The hell you are.  Nobody said you could stay with me!”  My voice rose an octave in a heartbeat. 

“How else am I gonna make sure you’re safe and sound?  Won’t do no good for you to call if I ain’t close by.”

He had me there… “Oh, I’ve got it!  Why don’t you stay at Adam’s house?  I’m not using it anyway and it’s not all that far if you had to get here in a pinch.”

“Yeah?”  I’d managed to surprise him alright. 

“Sure, why not?  Knock yourself out.”  I dug for the key in my pocket and handed it over.  Then I remembered the state of his motel room and the layers of filth.  “But if you trash the place Adam’s gonna kick your tail,” I warned, not that he looked worried one bit.

“Not if he don’t come back.”

That thought sobered me up quick enough, and I decided I didn’t feel like having company over anymore.  “I think maybe you’d better be on your way.”

“Aw shit, I didn’t mean…”  Instantly contrite, I could see the regret wash over him.  “Hell, sugar, you can’t take anything I say at face value.  I’m sure he’ll turn up, he always does sooner or later.”

Only what if it turned out to be much later?  Angels measured time so differently from humans.  What if he didn’t turn up for a year?  Or ten?  Or a hundred?  Pushing that thought away, I gave him a weak smile.  “It’s okay, it’s not your fault he took off.  You should probably get going though, go check out Adam’s place.  I’m sure you’ll love it.”

“It’s barely the shank of the evenin’ though,” he replied, clearly in no hurry to leave.  “You ain’t even told me how things worked out for ya before, getting Azazael out of Midian.  I bet that’s a hair raisin’ story to tell.”

I wasn’t in the mood to hash it all out at first until I caught the look behind his eye.  Was Remiel lonely?  Remembering how eager Sam was to chat when I first met him, I wondered how long it had been since Remy had been able to actually talk to someone about what he was and the world he lived in.  Changing my mind, I filled him in on the epic tale, starting with Adam and I opening the portal and finishing with Ben disappearing with Azazael in tow, trapped in the pink jewelry box.  Remiel proved an apt listener, and he enjoyed the story immensely, I could tell.  When he wasn’t acting like a pig, he wasn’t all that hard to be around. 

“Hang on a minute, I have your ring…”  Leaving him in the living room, I dug the ring out of my top drawer, handing it over.  “Thanks for lending it to me, we couldn’t have done it without your help.”

Remiel accepted the woman’s ring, staring down at it for long seconds before he tucked it away in his pocket.  “Welcome,” he muttered, uncomfortable with my gratitude by the looks of it.

“Have you thought about what you want?  For lending it to me?”  We’d made a bargain after all, and I was no welcher. 

“Is that a trick question?  I been thinkin’ about it plenty since Adamiel asked me to look after ya,” he smirked.

Just like that the smarmy bit was back, and I suppressed a roll of the eyes.  “He didn’t ask you to look after me like
that
and you know it.  Besides, we agreed, it’s a favor of a non-sexual nature.” 

“You sure know how to wound a man.”  He rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh.  “Alright, I know what you can do for me.  Give me Azazael when you track him down.”

Of all the things he could have said, that one knocked me for a loop.  “What would you want with him?”  

“It’d tickle me to think about burying him someplace he’d find particularly offensive.”  A malevolent grin stretched across his face and I felt my own lips respond in kind. 

“Alright, that sounds good to me.  If we find Azazael he’s all yours.  I don’t even want to know where you bury him, as long as he’s out of commission for good.”

“You got a deal, gorgeous.”  He stuck his hand out and I clasped it warmly.  It wasn’t much for him to ask.  In fact, it benefitted me plenty more than it did him, but he must have his reasons for wanting to see Azazael gone for good. 

“Hey, do you mind doing me another favor?” I asked, recalling my project.

“You changed your mind after all…”  The smile turned into a leer and that time, I did roll my eyes. 

“Do you have a cellphone?”

“Course I do, why?”  His brow furrowed in puzzlement.

“Can I see it?”  If I could cross reference the numbers in his phone against my list from the lawyer’s office, it should make my search for Adam’s number much faster.

All of a sudden he gave me a knowing look.  “His number ain’t in there.”

Damn, was I that obvious?
  “How do you reach him then?”

“Got everthing I need right up here.”  He tapped his forehead.  “But I ain’t givin’ ya his number, that’s part of the deal.”

“Are you sure there isn’t anything I can say to change your mind?”  I sent a wave of soothing Grace through him.  “He’d never have to know I got the number from you, it’d be our little secret.”

Remiel swallowed uncomfortably, and I hit him with another burst of Grace.  I could tell he’d never had anyone use the Grace on him like that before and I concentrated on making him as calm and relaxed as possible, circumventing his natural instincts.  I noticed the instant his resolve cracked and tried to conceal my glee when he rattled off the number.  “You are one dangerous woman.”  He swallowed again as I released him and he realized what I’d done.

“You’d better believe it.”

Chapter Three

Only once I knew the phone number, I wasn’t sure what to do with it. 

A quick check showed the number did appear as one of the incoming calls on Mr. Finch’s phone, cementing the notion it actually was Adam’s number, not a string of gibberish to throw me off track from Remiel. 

For two days I thought about calling Adam, even going so far as to program the number into my phone and add his picture to the entry, but something kept me from pressing send.  What if he changed his number once he talked to me?  I was convinced I could bring him around to see cold reason if I had a chance to really talk to him, but a long distance call didn’t seem like the most opportune time to exert my influence over him. 

In the end I stored it away, leaving it as an option for the future, but not wanting to cross that particular bridge just yet.  There were far too many other things to worry about anyway.  My brother’s wedding to Oriana loomed right around the corner, and I spent most of my free time hammering out last minute details with my mother and the bemused bride. 

Matty and Oriana didn’t seem to care too much about fancy churches or tons of guests, they just wanted to tie the knot on February second (a favorable day according to the witch).  My mother ran roughshod over their tastes, dictating the style of the wedding cake down to the flowers.  Matty, clueless about the details as most grooms were, was happy to let her take over the arrangements as a whole.  The only thing his diminutive bride insisted on was the ceremony be held outside; she wanted to feel the Earth beneath her feet. 

I shook myself out of distraction long enough to object when my mom wanted to dress Oriana in a frothy concoction of ruffles and lace that would’ve set Matty back half a year’s salary, insisting simplicity fit the theme of the wedding much better.  With Oriana’s pale coloring, she would have looked completely washed out in stark white anyway.  In the end, we settled on a bridesmaid’s dress in a pale pink that brought out the roses in her cheeks. 

We chose a local park, despite the cold weather, and we planned to have a small reception at a nearby Chinese restaurant (Oriana’s favorite food since escaping Midian). 

I’d counted on having Adam escort me to all the nuptial proceedings, but without him by my side I was strictly stag.  Parker couldn’t even fill in for me, as he’d already asked Luz to be his date.  I briefly considered asking Remiel to come with me, but decided I didn’t want to explain his presence to my friends and family, or listen to him make lewd suggestions all through the reception. 

The Friday night before the wedding, we gathered at the park to do a quick rehearsal, and seeing the happy couple together, I started to think they had the right of it.  Getting married under the open sky, the grass under our feet and none of the trappings of the wedding business to get in the way of the love they shared.  I just wish they’d picked June instead of January to make us stand around in the park. 

“Always a bridesmaid, never a bride,” Daphne sighed loudly as she joined me under the canopy of a nearby tree while Matty talked to the minister.  On the day of the wedding we planned to set up a camping pavilion, just in case we got more rain than drizzle.

I looked down at the ring on my hand.  My odds of becoming a bride had taken a sharp turn off course, but I hadn’t given up hope for good.  “Don’t say that, you might end up a blushing bride someday.”  As soon as I’d said it I snapped my mouth shut, wishing I could take it back at the hopeful look that lit up her face.  The odds of Sam proposing were way worse than Adam coming back, but I hated to break it to her and crush her dreams. 

All set to steer her away from the subject of our love lives, I froze as I caught sight of a man loping towards us from the parking lot.  He was thinner than I remembered, with more gray hair than dark on his weathered face, but the way he carried himself struck an unmistakable chord within me. 

It couldn’t be…

“What is he doing here?” I murmured, squinting to make sure I wasn’t having a weird flashback.  It was him alright, dressed in dark work pants and a blue button up shirt that had seen better days.  His graying hair stuck up in strange angles when he whipped off his ballcap, in need of a trim. 

“Who?”

He looked nervous, which almost made me think I’d made a mistake, until he approached Matty and gave his hand a mighty shake.

“Who is that, Mercy?”

“My father.” 

My initial reaction was to turn around and walk away, but I changed my mind at the last moment.  Why should I be chased out of my own brother’s wedding just because
he
decided to put in an appearance?  My lips pressed into a firm line, I stalked across the grass to see what he had to say for himself.   

“Thanks for coming, Dad.  I didn’t think you’d make it.”  Matty’s grin was a mile wide and I wondered if he’d been the one to call him.  I didn’t even know he knew how to get ahold of the man. 

“Well, it’s not often my son gets married, is it?”  Victoire Renault (or Vic as he liked to be called), looked fit to bust with pride, revealing a mouth full of nicotine stained teeth.  His aura reminded me of nicotine stains too, the pale blue nimbus pocked with holes that showed a red core – a sign of his quick temper.  “And is this the little lady that stole my boy’s heart?”  He offered a wide smile to Oriana, who recoiled from his offered hand.  I knew there was a reason why I liked that girl… an excellent judge of character.

“His hands are dirty,” Oriana shook her head, making no move to leave Matty’s side.

Matty’s brows drew together in confusion.  “No, they’re fine, look.”

“They’re dirty on the inside,” she said into his chest, voice muffled as Oriana refused to look at him. 

My father let his hand drop.  “It’s fine.  I ah, guess I must be a little ripe from the trip.” 

“Or the bottle of Jack you drank on the way over…” I muttered. 

“Merceline!” my mother hissed.  “Don’t speak that way to your father.”

“Why the hell not?  I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.  He smells like a barroom floor.”  My mother backed down, but Matty looked embarrassed.  Well, what did he expect would happen if he invited the jerk?  My feelings towards him weren’t exactly a secret.

Vic’s eyes narrowed at me, but his voice was calm as he replied.  “I didn’t have much time to haul my ass up here, I didn’t get to clean up as much as I wanted to.” 

“Won’t wash clean no matter how much you scrub them,” Oriana declared solemnly.  “Perhaps in the next life.”

Interesting.
  I resolved to have a chat with my sister-in-law-to-be about him sometime.  “Don’t worry, he won’t bite you.  But, I wouldn’t lend him any money either.”