Soul Weaver (19 page)
Nathaniel chuckled, but it sounded strained. He wondered what Bran would have said.
“Speaking of family—Delphi got a letter from Gavriel a few days ago.” Bran was trying to distract him. “I’m not sure what it said, but I got the impression the news wasn’t good. For one thing, Delphi’s started carrying his sword again. He’s also locking himself in his library, poring over the prisoner manifests for Aeristitia.” His head fell back against the pillows. “I think… someone’s gone missing.”
Swallowing the instant denial that sprang to his lips, Nathaniel kept his voice low. “No one leaves those cells, or the heavens, without help.”
“I know.” Bran stared at the ceiling. “Believe me. I think I’ve spent half my life in security checks waiting to get in and out of Aeristitia.”
“They don’t think you—”
“No.” Bran flexed his foot. “I still have the lovely anklet Gavriel designed for me. After a quick check to make sure it was working, that I still can’t lie, not to him at least, he interrogated me, then let me go.”
“He still doesn’t trust you.” Ice crept into Nathaniel’s tone. After a lifetime of service, acting as courier between Heaven and Hell, Bran deserved better. He deserved respect.
“Trust a Nephilim?” His lips curved. “He trusts me almost as much as Delphi does.”
“Delphi doesn’t trust anyone but Gavriel.” A dull pang made Nathaniel rub his chest. There had been a time when he and Saul were that close. Would they ever be again? “At least Delphi didn’t outfit you with new jewelry.”
“Didn’t he?” Bran rolled his shoulder, the one that bore Delphi’s mark.
“Point taken.” Most days, Nathaniel forgot the brand was there. He hadn’t thought of his in months. “I’d still rather have the brand. At least I can pass that off as a tattoo.”
“Ah. It’s like that.” Bran’s eyes closed. “So Chloe thinks tattoos are sexy, but men who wear jewelry are not?”
Heat rippled across Nathaniel’s skin at the thought of her tracing his tattoo with her finger… or her tongue. “I don’t know.” But now that the seed had been planted, he wanted to find out.
“You’re losing your touch.” He chuckled. “Then again, I’m not sure you ever had one.”
“Thanks.” Nathaniel wished he didn’t agree. “I’m going to grab some coffee. Do you need anything?”
“Nah.” His eyes didn’t open. “I’m good.” When Nathaniel stood, Bran turned onto his side. “Be careful out there. If Delphi is combing over Aeristitia’s records, who’s to say he won’t comb over Dis’s next? He’s looking for something—or someone. If he starts matching harvesters to the souls in their pits…”
Then Nathaniel would have a lot of explaining to do.
Metallic clangs made Chloe push from the couch and head toward her window. She was expecting Neve to be back in a bit, but the bus stop was a block away and Mr. Johns kept to his schedule like clockwork. That meant whatever the banging noise was, it wasn’t company calling.
The store had an alarm, and Chloe had armed it once Neve closed up for the day. So if someone tried to break in, she’d know about it. Nibbling her bottom lip, she considered her options. It was dark and she was home alone. Would it be so bad to write off the noise and curl back up on the couch?
Another series of clanks and bumps made her mind up for her.
If someone was out there, the last thing Chloe wanted was for Neve to stumble across them. That meant grabbing the flashlight from her nightstand and her dad’s baseball bat from under the bed. Before she talked herself out of it, Chloe armed herself and then crept down the stairs.
Shadows loomed across the stairs and gave her a case of the shivers. Her imagination had always been keen, but thanks to her nightmare man’s additions to her repertoire, she had no trouble imagining all kinds of things lurking in the dark corners of her store.
A flip of her thumb sent a beam of light slashing through the gloom. She tucked the flashlight under one arm while gripping the bat with her hands. Too bad Dad never got around to teaching her how to use it, but the thing was heavy enough to do damage without putting much force behind her swing, and how hard could it be to hit someone if they got close enough for her to use the bat in the first place?
Every creak of the stairs beneath her weight made her palms dampen more. By the time she stepped into the store, Chloe was having trouble keeping the bat from sliding in her hands.
She paused at the register and strained her ears.
Clink. Clank. Clink.
A muffled voice, definitely male, muttered, “Damn it.”
Inching to the nearest window, Chloe peeled aside the blinds and peeked into the alley behind the store. A tripod flashlight reflected off the air-conditioning units and the broad back of the man hunched over them. A man who glanced up as she was wondering whether recognizing someone based on the fit of his jeans was the hallmark of further mental deterioration or sexual deprivation.
The culprit lifted his wrench in greeting.
The bat slid in her fingers, and this time she let it hit the floor. “Nathaniel.”
He was sneaking around under the cover of darkness to… fix her air conditioner?
Crap. He must have felt guilty after the way she snapped at him earlier. The way to her heart was definitely through her store, but she couldn’t let him do the work without compensation. There was nothing for it. She had to swallow her pride, make amends, and pick up the tab.
Darting behind the register, she flipped the switch on the back wall. Light burst through the blinds as the floodlights poured across the alley. This time, when she peeked through the blinds, a pair of baby blues stared back at her. She raised her voice so he heard her. “Give me a second.”
Once the blinds were snapped shut, she raised them and reached for the window. The second she jiggled the lock, the alarm started chirping. She held up a finger to Nathaniel and ran back to the register, where she punched her code into the keypad. All she needed was for Piedmont PD to roll up with enough paperwork to sink her plans with Neve for the night.
Out of breath, she jogged back to the window and threw it open. “Hi.”
Nathaniel was grinning. “Hi.”
“Phew.” Chloe fanned her face. “I think I just had my Southern belle license revoked.” She plucked at her shirt. “This isn’t dew. This is sweat. You scared the bejesus out of me.”
His smile faded. “Are you feeling all right?” Before she could work up a good case of mad at him, he held his hands palms out. “You’re the one who passed out today, remember?”
Oh. Yeah. “I’m fine.” She fanned herself for effect. “Just hot.” When she peered over his shoulder, he shuffled his feet. “What are you doing out there, by the way?”
“Fixing your air conditioner.” He scowled at the wrench in his hand. “Or trying to.”
She drummed her nails on the window frame. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t touch the AC units.”
“You needed the repairs done.” He shrugged. “I happen to be in the repair business.”
“Well I happen to be in the book business, and it doesn’t pay all that well.” Try as she might, Chloe couldn’t tap into the anger she ought to be feeling. She was too relieved at seeing him again. Crazy how happy the sight of him made her. “I wish you had asked me first.”
“I should have… I would have, but I…”
Chloe popped her head out the window, bracing her forearms across the windowsill so they could talk without glass between them. “Do you often get the urge to home improve this late?”
“No.” He leaned against the brick wall. “I wanted something to keep my hands busy.”
She frowned. “Is there any particular reason why your hands had to get busy on my AC?”
Nathaniel paused. “I went to see Bran.” As if that cleared up his being here.
“And?” Chloe propped her chin in her palm.
“He’s sedated. He slept for most of the visit.” Nathaniel rubbed his eyes and left grease smudges on his cheeks. “The longer I sat there, the louder the beeping and the dripping became until I—” He clamped his mouth shut. “I don’t like seeing Bran with all those tubes and needles hanging out of him, sticking into him.”
“Poor little guy.” The kid was lucky to have such a doting uncle. “Was your brother there too?”
“Saul isn’t really a part of Bran’s life.” He sounded like he’d made peace with that fact. “It’s just me and Bran for the most part. His father isn’t… Saul isn’t well. He lost his wife, Bran’s mother, and he hasn’t been the same since.”
“I’m so sorry.” How horrible that must be for them all. In that case, tragedy must have prompted Saul’s visit rather than paternal concern. How sad for poor Bran.
“It was a long time ago.” He stared at his hands.
Chloe reached out, took one of his large hands in hers, and squeezed. “It still hurts, though. It’s been years since my parents passed. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of them. I miss them.”
He let his head fall back against the bricks. They stayed like that, with her leaning out the window and him holding on to her hand. It was nice, a tad awkward, what with the brick wall between them, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“I should be getting back,” he said after a while.
“That’s probably a good idea.” Neve was on her way and Bran shouldn’t wake up alone. “I’m glad you came. What I said earlier today… it had nothing to do with you. I just… I hated the fact that you had to come to my rescue. I wanted you to think I was normal.”
“You could never be normal.” His lips curved. “You’re far too special to be ordinary.”
“Ordinary would be a nice change of pace for me.” She gathered her nerve to add, “If you’re serious about giving us a try, then you’re right, you need to know what you’re getting into.”
“I don’t think that’s exactly how I phrased it.” He stared down at her, his thumb doing that rubbing thing over the top of her hand. “I am serious about you. If you ever want to tell me anything, I’m here.”
“I don’t want to tell you, but I think you might need to know. You said it was my decision to make if I wanted a relationship with you, but it’s not. It’s your choice, because if one of us walks out, it will be you and not me.”
He didn’t look happy. “You’re not giving me much credit.”
“No. I mean it.” A deep breath shored up her courage and she took the plunge. “I was in a car accident about a year ago. I’ve always had social anxiety, but afterward, things changed. I have these nightmares… and I’m afraid of leaving my house, where I know I’m safe.” She soaked up the comforting warmth of his touch in case this was the last time he allowed her so close. “So if this doesn’t work out, you will be the one who leaves, because I literally can’t.” She glanced inside the store.
“I’m trapped here.”
“You’re agoraphobic?” His voice remained level, calm.
She cringed. He’d used the A-word, but he hadn’t sounded disgusted and he hadn’t backpedaled to get away from her. “Yes. I don’t handle crowds well, and I can’t be alone in a strange place.” Her throat tightened. “Pretty pathetic, huh? I guess it shouldn’t surprise you to learn I also sleep with a night-light in case the bogeyman jumps out of my closet.”
He remained quiet longer than she could stand the silence.
“Like I said, it’s your choice.” She tugged at her hand, but he wouldn’t budge. “I wanted you to understand how things would be with me. It’s hard to date someone who can’t leave her house, and you’d get tired of being cooped up here eventually. It’s probably best we both forget this whole thing happened.”
“I can’t do that. I won’t let you do it, either.” His next step brought him in front of the window. He bent down, bracing one hand against the frame while using the other to pull her until her knees hit the wall. “If you’re asking me to choose, I choose you.” His lips brushed over hers. “I always will.”
“You’ll leave when this job is over,” she said. He couldn’t deny the fact.
His eyes flashed dark. No longer cool and tropical waters, they were storm tossed and forceful. When his smile came, it held a sharp edge. “I’ll take you with me.” He nipped at her lips, forcing them open so his tongue could dip inside.
Her eyes closed to better enjoy him. Desire roared to life between them, fanned the flames low in her belly until they licked along her insides.
Leaving wasn’t a possibility. When things cooled between them, he would realize she must stay. The break up would hurt, but they would both move on when his job was finished. He would return to his world while she remained here, in hers.
She groaned beneath his lips and he smiled against her mouth. God, she would miss him.
He traded his hold on the window for her. Cupped her shoulder, then smoothed down her back. Fisted the fabric of her shirt and tugged until his palm flattened against her spine, skin to glorious skin. She moaned into their kiss, leaned farther, reached for him, grabbed his belt loop, and tugged him flush against the wall, against her.
“Did you hear that?” His hand continued its downward trek, fingers teasing the waistband of her jeans and sneaking between the denim and her skin.
“I didn’t hear anything.” She nipped his bottom lip, slid her hand around his hip and into his back pocket. When she squeezed, his groan vibrated through their lips. Her other hand was making its way toward his other pocket when she heard it too—a familiar sharp, buzzing sound.
He broke their kiss. “You don’t hear that?”
Of all the times for Neve to arrive, this was the absolute worst. “It’s the doorbell.”
“You’re expecting someone this late?” As if remembering, he nodded. “Neve, right?”
“Right.” Chloe withdrew her hand from his back pocket. She didn’t even cop one last feel. It seemed kind of rude given the moment had passed. “You’re welcome to stay if you’d like.”
“Thanks, but I should go.” He traced over the elastic band of her panties. She couldn’t remember which pair she was wearing, but she sent up a quick prayer they were sexy.
The buzzing resumed and Chloe sighed. “I guess I’ll see you Monday, then.”
“Bright and early.” He stole a final kiss and withdrew. “Enjoy your weekend.”
“You too.” Before he turned, Chloe added, “Think about what I said, okay?”
“I’ve already made up my mind.” He sounded certain. “But we can finish this Monday.”
