The Angel of Death (The Soul Summoner Book 3) (12 page)

I looked up at him. “Easy for you to say.”

“If they’re investigating you, they’re investigating me too.”

I scrunched up my nose. “I guess that seals the deal on no FBI job for you.”

He finished what was left of my cake. “I’m sure it does.”

I was yawning by the time we said our goodbyes to my dad in the hotel lobby. Dad hugged me and kissed the side of my head. “Are you all right to drive yourself home? It looks like it’s flurrying outside.”

I nodded against his shoulder. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”
 

He shook hands with Nathan. “Thanks for looking out for her, son.”

“It’s my pleasure, sir.”

Dad pointed a finger at me. “You be careful.” His warning tone was loaded with double meaning.

Nathan walked with me to my car. “I’ll be behind you the whole way,” he said.

“Thank you.”

Knowing the headlights behind me belonged to Nathan, I relaxed on the drive home. I called Adrianne and yelled at her, but I also thanked her for looking out for me by calling him. We chatted until I pulled into the driveway.
 

“Gotta go. We’re home now,” I said to her.

“OK,” she said. “No staying up past eleven with him and always sleep in Warren’s shirts.”

I laughed. “Is that your recipe for chastity?”

“Yes. And don’t let him wear cologne in the house. You’re a sucker for that shit,” she said.

She was right.

“Goodnight, Adrianne.”

“Call me if you get weak.”

Nathan was waiting by his car door behind me when I got out. “Sorry,” I said, holding up my phone. “That was Adrianne.”

“What did she have to say?” he asked.

I chuckled. “You don’t want to know.”

“Probably not.” He froze when he noticed the crushed rhododendron in front of my driveway. “What happened to the bush?”

I squished my mouth to one side.

“Sloan?”

“I drove over it.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Why?”

I looked down at my feet. “Adrianne scared me.”

He pointed at me. “You scare me.” We turned toward the sidewalk leading to the house. “Well, you don’t have to worry about anything sinister that can be stopped by bullets. That’s the upside of having the FBI on your tail.”

“They’re following me?”

He grimaced. “That would be my guess. Someone certainly is.”

I dropped my arms and looked up at the sky. “Why?” I asked the angels, or God, or the universe. I scanned the dark street. “Where are they now?”

He jerked his head to the side. “They’re in a truck a street over.”

“Fantastic,” I muttered as we walked up the steps to the porch.

As I unlocked the front door, he nudged my side. “Maybe you should give me Warren’s key while he’s gone.”

Smirking, I pushed the door open. “Sometimes I worry you have a death wish.”

“Been there, done that, Sloan.”

I laughed as we walked inside.

8.

The rest of the week was remarkably uneventful considering an army of angels and the federal government followed me wherever I went, the world’s hottest cop was sleeping in my guest room, and a person the size of a duck fat baby potato was growing inside me. On Friday afternoon, I was packing up my files and laptop when my boss walked into my office.

“Hey, Mary,” I said.

Mary Travers was so small she could easily be mistaken for a child from behind if it weren’t for her fondness of tweed and polyester skirt suits. She’d recently gotten a new hairstyle, an asymmetrical long pixie cut—a daring leap from her boring straight brown bob—and contact lenses to replace her thick black frames. In our office, it was the most peculiar metamorphosis since Kafka.

“I’m glad I caught you.” She handed me a white envelope.

I blinked with surprise. “What’s this?”

“Your valet vouchers for tomorrow night,” she answered.

My brain raced. “Umm…”

“The office Christmas party at the Grove Park,” she said, wide-eyed.

I laughed. “Oh my. With everything going on, I completely forgot about it.”

“I hope everything’s OK,” she said.

I sank down into my office chair and motioned to the chairs across from my desk. “We need to talk.”
 

Mary sat, worry lines creasing her brow.

I shifted uncomfortably on my chair. “I recently found out I’m pregnant.”

She covered her mouth with her hand. “Really?”

“Really. I’m due in July.”

She looked a little uneasy. “I hope congratulations are in order.”

I smiled. “Yes. I’m happy about it.” And it was true, despite my raging nerves and confused hormones.

Mary reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Congratulations, Sloan.”

“Thank you.”

She tapped her fingertips together. “Have you considered how your job will fit into your new life as a mother?”
 

I shook my head. “I haven’t even thought about it, but I’ll let you know if I forsee any major changes.”

“We’ll do whatever we can to make your life easier so we can keep you here.”

“I appreciate that,” I said.

She glanced at the envelope. “Will you make it to the party tomorrow night?”

I stood and straightened my shirt. “If I can stay awake, I’ll be there.”

Laughing, she got up. “Wonderful. I’ll see you then.”

“Goodbye, Mary.”

When she left, I crammed my laptop and files into my bag and locked up my office. It was freezing outside, and I saw my breath against the last rays of pink and orange sunshine. There were ripples watching me in the sky and a black truck watching me from the corner of the parking lot. I waved to both of them.

The truck followed me home.

Nathan, who had been camped out in my guest room all week, was idling at the curb when I pulled into my driveway. When I came around front, he was waiting by his SUV. He was carrying a pizza box from Asheville Pizza and Brewery.
 

I smiled. “I could get used to living with you.”

He laughed. “Don’t.”

The patch on the front of his ball cap said,
The ATF should be a convenience store, not a government agency.
 

I pointed at it. “You didn’t work today?”

He took my bag from me as we walked up the stairs. “I went in for a few hours this morning, but I wasn’t on the schedule. How was your day?”

“Exhausting.” I looked over at him. “Do you have plans tomorrow night?”

“I’ll have to check my social calendar.” He shook his head as we went up the steps. “I’ve got this chick in my life who wears me the hell out—”

I playfully backhanded his arm. “Shut up.”

 
“Why do you ask?”

“My office Christmas party is tomorrow night at The Grove Park Inn,” I said. “I forgot about it.”

He groaned.

“Have you ever been to the Grove Park Inn?” I asked as I put my key in the deadbolt.

He laughed. “I dated Shannon. What do you think?”

Rolling my eyes, I pushed my door open. “Have you ever been at Christmas time?”

“No.”

“It will be nice,” I said as we walked inside.

He locked the door behind us. “Does that mean I have to dress up?”

“Yes.”

He groaned again. “How dressy are we talking about?”

I thought for a moment. “I’ll probably wear a black dress and—”

He spun toward me. “The black dress you wore at the bar?”

I froze as I unbuttoned my coat. “What?”

“Short black dress, kinda shiny with a belt. You wore it to the bar the first night I met Adrianne,” he said.

I closed my eyes and thought back to the first night I’d ever seen Nathan outside work. We were at a nightclub downtown. He’d shown up with Shannon. Ugh. I shook my head. “No. I hate that dress.”

He pulled off his hat and hung it on a hook by the door. “I liked it, but it probably wouldn’t fit you anymore.”

I gasped. “Excuse me?”

He nudged my arm. “It’s not bad. It’s normal to have a baby bump.”

“I don’t have a baby bump.”

He carried the pizza to the kitchen. “I’ve been looking at your body for six months. You have a bump.”

I shrugged out of my coat. “I’m not sure what offends me more, your admission of checking me out all the time or you pointing out I’m gaining weight.”

“If that offends you, then you’ll really be pissed to know I’ve noticed your boobs getting bigger also,” he said over his shoulder.

“Nathan!”

He was snickering as he pulled two plates out of the cupboard. “I thought you wanted bigger boobs.”

Stalking into the kitchen, I punched him in the shoulder. “We’re not talking about my boobs!”
 

“I meant it as a compliment.” He laughed. “If you’re putting on a few pounds, at least you’re doing it in the right places.”

“Please stop talking.” I yanked open the refrigerator to retrieve two bottles of water.

Thirty minutes later, most of the pizza was gone. I ate half. I put my plate down on the coffee table and pointed a warning finger at Nathan. “Don’t you dare say a word about how much I ate.”

He laughed and swallowed his last bite. “I wouldn’t dare.”

I pulled the blanket off the back of the sofa before positioning the throw pillow against the arm of the sofa. I stretched out, tucking my cold feet behind Nathan’s back.
 

He tapped my shin. “Hey, isn’t that the guy you think they sent Warren after?”

On the television was a photograph of an Arabic man who Warren had shown me before he left. The terrorist, whose name I couldn’t pronounce, had no soul which meant he was dead or he wasn’t human. Since videos and stories kept flooding the news about him, I suspected it was the latter.

“And there’s more breaking news out of Lebanon. Abdelkarim Abdulla Khalil Shallah, has released a new video on a known terrorist website claiming responsibility for the beheading of US Marine, Alexander Diaz…”

They showed a paused video image of another man in a black robe and face mask, standing next to a person who was on his knees in the dirt wearing multi-cam fatigues. A black pillowcase was over his head, and his hands were behind his back. I covered my mouth and gasped. “That’s horrible.”

The video played, and the pillowcase was ripped off the man’s head. A tangle of long black hair fell around his shoulders, which the terrorist grabbed to pull him upright. Warren’s eyes locked on mine, pleading in horror through the camera. Then a machete swung and blood splattered across the television screen.

I screamed.

“Sloan, wake up!” Nathan was shaking my arm.

When I opened my eyes, we were still on the couch, the news was still on, and a gray-haired man was showing a cold front moving into Western North Carolina. I rubbed my eyes and tried to catch my breath. “What happened?”
 

He helped me sit up. “You dozed off and then started screaming.”

“There was a Marine on television,” I said, pointing at the screen.

He nodded. “Yeah. Alexander Diaz died in Israel, but we saw that fifteen minutes ago.”

I gripped my head. “Geez, I’m losing it.”

“No, you’re not. You’re just exhausted. Go to bed,” he said, pointing up the stairs.

Just then, a blast of thunder rattled the house. We both jumped.

Nathan got up and went to the back door. He pulled it open and a rush of wind blew inside, carrying a flurry of dead leaves into the room. My heart constricted—like it had the night the figure attacked me in my bed. I hugged my knees to my chest. “Nathan, close the door.”

He looked over his shoulder at me. “What?”

Before I could answer, he was knocked backward off his feet. I leapt off the couch, stepping over him to shut the back door. I tumbled the deadbolt, then sank to the floor against it.
 

Nathan’s eyes were double their normal size. “What the hell was that?”

I shook my head and crawled over beside him. “I don’t know, but I’ve only ever felt like that in Texas and in my nightmares. Pinch me.”

“Huh?”

I pinched his arm.

He yelped. “What was that for?”

“I guess I’m not asleep,” I said.

He got up, jerking his sidearm from its holster. “How does you pinching me prove you’re not asleep?” He walked over to the door and pulled back the curtains over the window. “There’s movement out there. Lock the door behind me.”

I scrambled to my feet and grabbed his arm. “Don’t. Please don’t leave me.”

His mouth opened like he was about to argue, but he didn’t. “I won’t.” He walked to the table and picked up his radio. “Dispatch this is 2201, off duty.”

The radio beeped and a woman’s voice came over the line. “Officer 2201, this is dispatch. Go ahead.”

“Dispatch this is 2201. Current location is 7506 Bradley Avenue. Requests you dispatch the zone two unit to this area for patrol. Be on the lookout for suspicious activity or persons at current location. Unable to investigate at this time.”

“Officer 2201, this is dispatch. 10-4. I’ll have the zone two officer en route to your position.”

He hooked the radio on his belt, then walked to the kitchen. I followed close on his heels as he peeked out the blinds behind the dinette. “No unusual cars on the street.”

I was right over his shoulder. “Nathan, forget the cars. There’s no wind, or storm!”

He didn’t respond.

Pressing my eyes closed, I sent my evil radar out into the night, sincerely hoping to detect an armed robber or an axe murderer. They would be easier to deal with than what I feared was out there. There was no one. No humans, anyway.

Through clenched teeth, I let out a squeal. “Nathan, it’s her. It’s Kasyade. She’s going to kill me.”

He turned around and leveled his gaze at me. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do.”

He shook his head. “It could have been a transformer blowing or kids setting off fireworks.”

I pointed at his face. “Nathan, you know better.”

He pushed my hand down. “Maybe it was Thor, God of Thunder.”

I bit down on the insides of my lips to keep from laughing. Nothing about the situation warranted jokes, no matter how funny they were.
 

He winked at me. “Go to bed. I’ll stand guard.”