Slipping the Past (13 page)

“You shouldn’t drink so much. The morning after always sucks.”

He touched his forehead and flinched. “What time is it?”

“Why? You got the room for another night, buddy. You’re two hours past checkout. We’ve already charged your account.” The mop swiped in front of him again. “For the water, too.” She eyed his forehead. “That’s a nasty lump. You want some ice?” Her back-alley Stratus City accent bounced around in his skull like a pinball.

Gabriel cringed and shook his head. “What time’s checkout?”

“Noon.”

“Noon?” Gabriel probed the lump and glanced up.

“Our policy….” The maid sucked in a breath when she looked in his eyes. “Oh my—oh God.” She grabbed her bucket and ran for the door, leaving the mop behind. The door slammed, reverberating through the walls, shaking his throbbing cranium more. The mop dropped to the floor beside him with a loud whack. Gabriel flinched and rubbed the bump again.

“Nice to meet you, too,” he mumbled and pushed to his feet. He threw his hand out and braced against the wall. Damned if everyone didn’t freak when they realized what he was. He’d have to see about getting some glasses like Jocelyn.

Jocelyn. His cock twitched and began to swell again. Gabriel groaned, snagged a fresh towel off the bar, wrapped it around his waist, and tented the front. “Well, that worked great.” He stumbled to the window and stared across the street. The curtains were drawn. Was she still there?

He reached out with his mind. This time he felt something. If he wasn’t mistaken, irritation and general crankiness. He couldn’t be sure. He didn’t read minds, only sensed energies, and hers had a definite zing to it. He pushed again and a wall slammed up, shutting him out. Pain shot through his head and he closed his eyes. Okay, so she didn’t like his intrusion. But something about her reaction told him she didn’t recognize his probe. He’d the feeling she thought about him and didn’t want to.

Maybe.

For all he knew, she could be plotting his demise. He wished he could get inside her head and read her thoughts. Gabriel pushed again. Nothing. Time to face her again. He focused on the layout of her room. As it came into view in his mind, the towel around his waist slipped and dropped to the floor, bringing him back to reality. He glanced down and stopped the shift. Yeah, better put some clothes on.

His other head seemed to like the brush with her energy, cranky or not. Any more, and he’d have to pack it on ice to get it down or find the object of his desire and fuck her to exhaustion. Since he’d sworn off sex with Jocelyn for her own protection, option two didn’t look like a good alternative, even if other parts of his body thought so. He should have said yes to the ice.

He strode over to the bed, grabbing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt from his bag. He hadn’t thought to pack a long-sleeved shirt because he had his coat. Regardless, what he had was warmer than wandering over there bare-assed.

Yeah, that would go over well. With the baseball-bat psycho watching over her, someone would get hurt and chances were pretty good it would be the kid.

Besides that, he’d no idea how Jocelyn would react to seeing him. Would she remember him? She could hate him. One thing was certain, he needed to see her again. Touch her. Would she freak? He’d dropped her off without so much as a goodbye after he’d drained her energy and rendered her unconscious. Gabriel’s heart thudded against his ribs. He’d give anything right now to be a reader. He’d give anything for a do-over.

He pushed his cock into his jeans and carefully zipped. With a sigh, he collapsed on the bed, reaching for one of his combat boots. At least she was awake. He’d worried that wouldn’t be the case, that he’d taken too much and left her comatose or vegetative.

Perhaps a peace offering? An excuse to go over.

Food?

No.

Information?

Yeah, if he had some.

Flowers!

He slipped into his boots, yanked the laces tight, and reached into the bedside stand. He tossed the tourist pamphlets, a notepad, pencil, and Bible to the floor. He snagged the phone book, flipping to the yellow pages and florists.

The energy he’d drained gave him a brief glimpse of who she was, and blue definitely fit her. Those eyes in the vision. He picked several shops then collected the addresses, ripping the pages from the book. He’d pop in, get the flowers, and then, like a normal human, walk up to the door and knock. Wearing clothes. He still had manners and could be civilized, even if other bits of him were acting like a raging lunatic.

“Reaper.” The woman at the counter backed up and bumped into a refrigerated display. Her eyes popped open and her heart pounded loud enough for him to hear.

“We prefer the term ‘Enforcer.’” He eyed the cooler behind her, looking for blue. Not just any blue, but Jocelyn blue, the color of the sky, the color of her eyes. Eyes he hadn’t forgotten in centuries and never would. Since tasting her energy, he’d begun to remember. He rubbed the lump on his head. That impact with the wall seemed to jar a few memories loose, too.

She hadn’t lied. She’d loved him once. Perhaps she hadn’t lied about her being innocent of her past-life crimes, either.

“I didn’t do anything.” The florist shook her head. Her eyes watered and her lip quivered. Gods, why did people have to cry when they saw him? All this weeping was giving him a complex.

Whatever. He didn’t want her soul. He’d come for flowers and he wasn’t leaving without them.

“Blue.”

“Blue what? Oh God. Is that the color of my soul? It was an accident.”

Gabriel groaned. “Can we not make such a big deal out of this?” He slapped his hands down on the counter and leaned in. The woman cried out like he’d struck her. “I’d like a bouquet of blue flowers. Something pretty.”

“Flowers?” She barked out a nervous laugh and reached for the cooler door with a hand that trembled so hard, Gabriel got dizzy looking at it. Tears rolled down her cheeks in streams and snot began to trickle from her nose. She sniffed and wiped it away with the back of her hand. “You only want flowers?”

“Without the crying, please. I’ve got a monster headache from an unexpected encounter with a tile wall.”

“Tile wall?”

Gabriel groaned. “Look, I’m as human as you. I get headaches. I have a life, and I have a girlfriend I’d like to give pretty flowers to. Simple. I’m not here to suck your soul. If I had a warrant, you’d already be contained, so, please, can I get some flowers?”

She nodded and swallowed. “Blue is a hard color to find. Blue what? Carnations?”

She pulled out a handful of navy flowers from a vase. The stems dripped down her front of her smock, raining onto her feet.

Gabriel shook his head. “Like the sky.”

“Like the sky,” the woman mumbled and drew her brows together. “I don’t think I have anything that will fit. I could spray—”

Gabriel vanished. Maybe the next place would have what he wanted. Did he ask for too much?

Apparently.

After six shops, he decided to give her red roses—if he could find someone to sell him a dozen without freaking out. One florist passed out; two had run out the door, leaving him at the counter.

Another burst into tears and begged him not to take him. Then he began to confess all his past sins. You’d think he thought Gabriel a priest and not a reaper with the way he kept going, and going, and going. It took a great deal of control not to suck his soul and stick him in containment to shut him up. Instead, he shifted to the last address, leaving the blubbering idiot behind.

A cramped but cozy shop that smelled like dried herbs and cinnamon. Not unpleasant. Actually, it felt comforting.

“I’ll be right there,” a woman called from behind a beaded curtain.

Gabriel tapped his fingers on the counter and took the time to study the shop further. Bright colors everywhere. Brilliant shades, clustered together in monochromatic groups. Complementary colors sat next to each other, making the shop nearly vibrate with excitement. Someone had an eye tuned to color and knew what they were doing.

The florist parted the curtain and stepped through.

Gabriel swung his gaze in her direction and did a double-take. Young, perhaps twenty-one, no older than twenty-two. She had long, dark braids that hung over her shoulders and high cheekbones that graced an oval face, accentuating a straight, regal nose and a beautiful, dusky complexion. One look and her Native American ancestry became abundantly clear.

“Cherokee.” She smiled. “People always ask.”

“Wasn’t going to,” he mumbled. He hadn’t done the double-take because of her heritage. Over her eyes, she wore dark glasses, and turned her head toward him as though she followed the sound of his voice. A blind florist?

“Can I help you?”

Gabriel frowned. How the heck would she even know what the color blue looked like?

“I know what you’re thinking. I was born this way, but I can feel color frequencies. I may not be able to see with my eyes, but I see in other ways.”

“Blue flowers, like the sky.”

“That’s a challenge, but I happen to have what you’re looking for.” She spun on her heel and headed through the back, calling out to him through a beaded curtain. “I got them in today, special hybrids from my grandfather’s greenhouse. He’s a botanist and has a knack for coloring the world.”

The beads rattled and the girl stepped through with a sky- blue bouquet.

“Orchids.” She held them out to him. “They have a slight vanilla scent, too.” She pushed them under his nose. “Sniff.”

Gabriel inhaled and smiled, taking the bouquet from her hands. He couldn’t have picked them better. What were the chances it would be a blind florist that found the exact flowers he’d had in mind? A promising sign. “Perfect.”

“I told you I’d have what you were looking for. Now make sure you tell her you’re sorry.”

Gabriel frowned. How had she done that? He hadn’t sensed she was a full-blown psychic. She did possess some intuition, the reading of colors, but not as strong as Jocelyn. “Are you a…?”

The girl smiled. “I heard a little inner guilt in your voice. You’re in trouble?”

Gabriel nodded. He wasn’t losing his touch. “Something like that.” He pushed a credit chip across the counter, brushing her fingers.

She yanked her hand back. “Sorry, I’m touch-sensitive. I don’t like to make contact with anyone.” She rubbed her fingers where they’d connected. “You have some seriously strong energy. Are you a reader?”

“Something like that.”

“Strong energies burn me. Well, they feel like they burn. I didn’t mean to offend.”

“I understand.” Having a gift wasn’t easy. Feelings could be intensified and under certain circumstances, painful. He didn’t want to hurt her. She was the only florist who wasn’t terrified of him, and willing to help. “Keep the change.”

The girl picked the chip up and ran her fingers over the corner. “This is twice what you owe me.”

“After what I’ve been through to get these, I’d pay you that and double. Thank you.”

“Remember to tell her you’re sorry,” the girl called out as he shifted.

Bang. Bang. Bang
.

“I’m coming. Damn.” Jocelyn pulled the toothbrush from her mouth. “One minute!” She began to scrub her teeth again.

Bang. Nate’s impatience could drive a sane person crazy. Why didn’t he take his key?

Bang!

“I said—one minute.” She dropped her toothbrush in the sink and stomped out of the bathroom to the door. Twisting the lock, she whipped it open. “You can be the biggest pain in the ass.”

Jocelyn tipped her head back. “Uh oh.” One look and she knew he owned the coat. Only one reaper would fit in the leather duster she’d been sleeping in. “Gabriel.”

He shoved flowers into her hands and he smiled. Jocelyn’s heart stuttered. She staggered back a step, clutching the blooms to her chest. “I have five more days.”

“Jocelyn.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

She blinked. “You’re sorry?”

“Yes.”

He’s apologizing?
Heat rushed to her scalp and Jocelyn ground down on her teeth. How dare he steal everything and expect to come back here with flowers and an apology? Not happening! She released the bouquet and it fell at her feet with all the respect of a discarded tissue. “You’re sorry? You stole my vision and my virginity. Sorry? I don’t think so.” She pointed to her pupils. “Look what you’ve done.”

“You can see, and I didn’t steal your virginity. You offered willingly.” He narrowed his eyes and locked on to hers, not really looking into them, but at them. “I can see the color. They’re blue. They’re as beautiful as I remembered. How did this happen?”

See? He called this seeing?
“As if you wouldn’t know.” She softened her voice and stepped closer. Yes, this reaper had a weakness.
His problem
. Jocelyn slid her hands up his chest and smiled. “Come closer.”

Gabriel leaned down.

She grabbed a firm hold of his shoulders and rammed her knee up and forward, driving the bony cap into his soft man-parts.

He expelled a harsh grunt and his mouth fell open. Gabriel dropped to his knees. A gurgle bubbled from his throat. He tipped his head back and looked at her in shock. “Jocelyn?”

“Night, lover-boy.” Jocelyn took a step back and planted her foot in the center of his chest. She kicked out with all her strength, sending him sprawling onto the deck. One last look and she slammed the door.

“They’re as beautiful as I remembered?” Her sneakers crunched down on something and drew her attention to his gift, the cellophane-covered flowers. Biting her lip, she snatched them off the floor and opened the door again, tossing them out. “Keep your crappy flowers.” She fastened all three locks as fast as her fingers could move, and sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t want them,” she whispered.

Jocelyn stared at the locks and curled her hands into fists to keep them from shaking. “What the hell did I do?” Maybe that had been a little harsh. It might have been a bad idea, too. Gabriel easily made two of her. He had immense psychic abilities and a license to use them. “Yeah, that was a great idea, Jocelyn.” Oh God, what had she been thinking? Maybe
she
should apologize? Jocelyn reached for the door and yanked her hand away. “No. I’m not going to play his game.” She tiptoed over to the curtain and brushed the edge back, peeking out. Gone? She craned her neck farther and pulled the fabric open wider.