It was only when Dante rolled over that I'd realized I'd been sniffling.
"Are you crying, succubus?"
"It's this book," I said.
I had just read a section where Cady and O'Neill were having a profound talk about life, and O'Neill had commented that all people were seeking both damnation and forgiveness, needing each to make sense of their existence. I was crying because it was true and because Seth had known it was true.
"There are a lot of things to cry about in this world," Dante said through a yawn. "Not sure a book should be one of them."
The clock read 4 a.m. by that point, and my eyes were bleary from tears and a need to sleep. I put down Seth's book-which I was now more than half-way through-and turned off the light. Dante shifted and threw an arm around me, resting his chin on my shoulder. His breathing grew heavy and regular, and before long, I joined him in sleep.
The phone woke me up at an ungodly hour later in the morning. Dante was gone already. I found that surprising, but seeing as he hadn't gotten three hours of sleep, it might not have been that much of a leap.
"Hello?" Finding the phone had been feat enough, let alone checking the caller ID. A frantic voice answered me.
"Georgina? This is Blake."
"Blake?" I didn't think I knew any Blake.
"Don't tell me you forgot about us?"
He pronounced "about" as "aboot," and it came back to me through my sleep-addled brain. "Oh, God. I'm sorry. Blake. From the Army." Him calling me couldn't be a good sign. I sat up straighter in bed. "What's going on?"
"They're doing something today…I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but I'm worried. I don't know much, except that it's big."
I was up and moving now, clothes and hair shape-shifting as I walked. "Do you have anything else? A time or place?"
"Not yet. Evan's being really secretive about what he's telling us. He says the Angel wants it to be a need-to-know-thing and that we won't find out the details until the absolute last minute."
"Fuck." I suspected the Angel was also trying to limit my knowledge as well. Flattering, but frustrating. "Okay, well, listen, I'm in Seattle, but I'm getting on the road right now. I should be there in two hours."
"You can't get up here in two hours," he said incredulously.
"I can if I don't drive the speed limit."
There was a bit of congestion within the city itself, but once I got a little north of it, the traffic cleared up. It was the morning commute; everyone wanted to get into Seattle. Once I had clear highway ahead of me, I dialed Cedric. I knew he wasn't going to like my lack of information, but considering how angry he'd been after last time, I had to at least make the attempt here to keep myself out of trouble. It was Kristin who answered.
"He's having breakfast right now," she told me. "It's kind of a special time for him. He doesn't like to be disturbed." There was an anxious tone to her voice, and I could almost picture her arranging a breakfast tray just-so for him.
"Yeah, well, he might be disturbed whether he likes it or not." I told her what Blake had said, and her response was similar to mine.
"That's all you've got?"
"Their Angel's working on a need-to-know basis now," I said bitterly. "I'll let you know more when I learn more. I just figured Cedric should know."
She sighed. "You're right. Thanks. Man, this is going to piss him off. He'll have no appetite at all."
I made the drive in the two hours I'd quoted Blake and miraculously didn't get pulled over. I hadn't heard from him the entire time, so I dialed him once I was over the border and buying coffee. I'd found a Starbucks and took a secret thrill in defying the Tim Hortons domination. Except…once I had the coffee in hand, I decided a donut would be really good with it, so I walked over and got one from the Tim's across the street.
Blake didn't answer, so I tried Evan next and also got no answer. Frustrated, I drove over to Evan's house and knocked on the door for a while. I was nearly on the verge of climbing in through a back window when my phone rang again-and ironically, it was Evan himself.
"Georgina!" he exclaimed, sounding ecstatic. "Where are you? We need you here."
"Where are you ?" I demanded.
"On the observation deck," he said.
"Observation deck of what?"
"The Space Needle. You live close by, don't you?"
I nearly dropped the phone. "You're in Seattle ?"
"Yeah!" I could perfectly picture that eager, zealous look of his. "Cool, huh? The Angel wanted us to expand our message. So, we're all up here with these banners that we're going to unfurl at the same time, and then we've got a few more surprises to-"
"Evan," I begged, sprinting toward my car. "Don't do it. You're stirring up more trouble than you realize."
"That's the point!" he chuckled. "How long until you can be here?"
Once I told him I wasn't in the city, he lost interest, and my pleas became meaningless. As soon as we disconnected, I dialed Cedric, expecting to get Kristin. Instead, I got his voice mail. Somehow, that made me angry.
"Cedric, this is Georgina. The Army isn't doing their thing here-they're down in Seattle right now. I hope you finally believe I didn't have anything to do with their stupid plans now! When Jerome finds out, it's going to be my ass on the line, and knowing my luck, he'll think you and I are working together."
Yes, this was one of those situations in which there was no way I could win. I was going to get in trouble no matter what I did, but again, I had to attempt damage control. Jerome had a cell phone that he never answered and didn't even have voice mail for. Hugh was the best way to get a hold of him-but he didn't pick up either.
"Damn it!" I cried into his phone. "Doesn't anyone answer their fucking phones anymore?" I gave him a hasty recap of what was happening and told him to let Jerome or one of the demonesses know about the cult's plans, or else Jerome was going to get the same scrutiny from the higher-ups that Cedric had been getting.
After that, there was nothing left for me to do except hit the road to Seattle again-something I was not happy about. Fortunately, I was fully outside the commuting times now and again could enjoy easy driving as I zipped down I-5 at 75. Pretty Hate Machine blared on my speakers and was oddly soothing to my agitated mood. I eventually fell into that trance-like state drivers often get, with one part of my brain watching the road and the other frantically wondering if my warning had reached any of the Seattle demons in time to intercept the Army.
I had just cleared Everett, about a half-hour outside of Seattle, when it hit me.
A jolt of electricity shot through my body, making the world spin and my vision blur. I felt hot all over. My hands slipped on the wheel, nearly causing me to swerve into the neighboring lane. I had just enough bearings to slam on my hazard lights and pull off on the shoulder before I hit someone. A wave of nausea rolled through my stomach, then settled down, then swept through me again. Shifting the car into park, I put my head down on the steering wheel, hoping for some clarity. There was a buzzing in my ears, and my whole body shook.
What the hell? I didn't get sick. Ever. The only thing that could really affect me like this was drinking too much or indulging in other substances. I'd had food poisoning a couple of times, but it had been short-lived, and somehow I doubted that donut I'd had was doing this to me.
I lifted my head up a little, but the world kept rocking. Closing my eyes, I rested my cheek against the steering wheel and took a few deep breaths, hoping I wouldn't throw up. I had no idea what was going on here, but it would pass. It had to pass.