“You could blow out of Caldwell, though. Find another place to live. If she doesn’t know how to find you, she can’t turn you in.”
“If I leave town, she’d just go after my mother. Who won’t relocate because of Bella and the young.”
“This is going to kill you.”
“She’s too addicted to risk that, though.”
“Then you need to tell her to cut the shit with that scorpion rubdown she gives herself. I understand your wanting to look strong, but she’s going to be fucking a cadaver if she doesn’t give that up.”
“Knowing her, necrophilia would be a turn-on.”
Behind Trez, a lovely glow pierced the horizon.
“Oh, shit, is it that late,” Rehv said, diving for the remote that closed the steel shutters on the house.
Except it wasn’t the sun. At least, not the sun that pin-wheeled in the sky.
A figure of light was coming up the lawn toward the house, walking with a saunter.
There was only one thing that Rehv could think of that could get that effect.
“Fan-fucking-tastic,” he muttered, sitting up. “Man, is this night over yet?”
Trez was already on his feet. “You want me to let him in?”
“Might as well. He’d just walk through the glass anyway. ”
The Moor slid one of the doors back and stood to the side as Lassiter came into the den. The guy’s gliding walk was the physical manifestation of a drawl, all smooth and slow and insolent.
“Long time, no see,” the angel said.
“Not long enough.”
“Always with the hospitality.”
“Listen, GE,” Rehv blinked hard. “Mind if you dim your disco ball?”
The brillant glow drifted away until Lassiter appeared normal. Well, normal for someone with a serious-ass piercing fetish and aspirations for being some country’s gold currency standard.
Trez shut the door and stood behind it, a wall of youfuck -with-my-boy-and-angel-or-not-ima-show-your-ass-a-beatdown.
“What brings you onto my property?” Rehv said, cradling his mug with both hands and trying to absorb its warmth.
“Got a problem.”
“I can’t fix your personality, sorry.”
Lassiter laughed, the sound ringing through the house like church bells. “No. I like myself just as I am, thank you.”
“Can’t help your delusional nature, either.”
“I need to find an address.”
“Do I look like the phone book?”
“You look like shit, as a matter of fact.”
“And you with the compliments.” Rehv finished his coffee. “What makes you think I’d help you?”
“Because.”
“You want to toss in a couple of nouns and verbs there? I’m lost.”
Lassiter grew serious, his ethereal beauty losing its SOP fuck-yourself smirk. “I’m here on official business.”
Rehv frowned. “No offense, but I thought your boss pink-slipped your ass.”
“I’ve got one last shot at being a good boy.” The angel looked hard at the coffee mug between Rehv’s hands. “If you help me, I can pay you back.”
“Can you.”
When Lassiter tried to take a step forward, Trez was on him like paint. “No, you don’t.”
“I’ll heal him. If you let me touch him, I’ll heal him.”
Trez’s brows came down, and he opened his mouth like he was about to tell the angel to heal himself right out of the goddamn house.
“Hold up,” Rehv said.
Shit, he was so tired and achy and miserable, it was hard not to imagine himself feeling like this when night fell. A week from tomorrow.
“Just what kind of address is it.”
“The Brotherhood’s.”
"Ha. Even if I knew it-and I don’t-I couldn’t tell you that.”
“I have something they’ve lost.”
Rehv was about to laugh again when his symphath side fired up. The angel was an asshole, but he was totally serious. And, shit… could it be true? Could he have found-
“Yes, I have,” Lassiter said. “Now, are you going to help me help them? And in return, ’cause I’m a stand-up guy, I’ll take care of your little problem.”
“And what problem would that be?”
“The MRSA infection in your forearm. And the fact that, at the moment, you’re about two more exposures away from anaphylaxis with that scorpion venom.” Lassiter shook his head. “I’m not going to ask any questions. On either account.”
“You feeling okay? Usually you’re nosier than that.”
“Hey, if you want to share-”
“Whatever. Rock out if you want.” Rehv extended his gutted forearm. “I’ll do what I can for you, but I can’t make any promises.”
Lassiter shot Trez a smile. “So, big guy, you going to take a breather and step aside? Because your boss has consented-”
“He’s not my boss.”
“I’m not his boss.”
Lassiter inclined his head. “Your colleague, then. Now, you mind getting out of my way?”
Trez bared his fangs and clapped his jaws together twice, the Shadow way of telling someone they were walking a thin trail on the edge of a very tall cliff. But he did step back.
Lassiter came forward, his glow resurfacing.
Rehv met the guy’s sterling-silver, pupil-less eyes. “You fuck with me, and Trez will damage you till your packaging can’t even be taped back together. You know what he is.”
“I know, but he’s wasting his hard-on. I can do no harm to the righteous, so you’re safe.”
Rehv barked a laugh. “He should still be worried, then.”
When Lassiter reached out and made contact, current licked into Rehv’s arm, making him gasp. As a wondrous healing started to pour into him, he shuddered and lay back in his nest of blankets. Oh, God… His exhaustion was lifting. Which meant the pain he didn’t feel was backing off.
In that gorgeous voice of his, Lassiter murmured, “You’ve got nothing to worry about. The righteous do not always do right, but their souls remain pure. You are untainted at your core. Now close your eyes, numb nuts, I’m about to light up like a bonfire.”
Rehv squinted and had to look away as a blast of pure energy slammed through his body. It was like an orgasm on steroids, a huge rush that carried him away, splintering him apart until he drifted down in a shower of stars.
When he came back into his body, he sighed long and hard.
Lassiter let go and rubbed his hand on the low-slung jeans he wore. “And now for what I need from you.”
“It’s not going to be easy to get to them.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“I’m going to have to verify what you have first.”
“He’s not in his happy place.”
“Well, of course not, he’s hanging with you. But I don’t fly the flag until I see the sights.”
There was a pause. And then Lassiter inclined his head. “Fine. I’ll come back at nightfall and take you to him.”
“Fair enough, angel, fair enough.”
Chapter Forty-three
On the cusp of dawn, Phury went to his bedroom and packed an L.L. Bean bag with workout supplies, such as a towel, his iPod, and his water bottle… and drug paraphernalia that included a spoon, a lighter, a syringe, a belt, and his stash of red smoke.
He left his crib and headed down to the hall of statues, walking like he was all about healthy purpose. He didn’t want to be too close to Bella and Z, so he chose one of the empty guest rooms that was nearer to the grand staircase. Slipping in through the door, he almost went back out to pick another: The color of the walls was a dusty lavender, just like the roses Cormia had enjoyed.
Voices of doggen passing by outside in the hall made him stay put.
He went into the bath, shut that door as well, and dimmed the lights until they glowed like a banked fire. As the shutters came down for the day, he sat on the marble floor with his back against the Jacuzzi and got out the things he was going to use on himself.
The reality of what he was about to do didn’t seem like any big deal.
It was kind of like immersing yourself in cold water. Once the shock was over, you got used to where you were.