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In an instant, time resumed at mortal speed.

The fat man looked at the twisted blade in his hand, gasping in wonder. Nick yanked it out of his hand and threw it across the parking deck. The three men turned to watch it fly and clatter to the concrete about ten yards away.

Then every eye seemed to look at Nick, or at least in his direction, despite his invisibility.

Or lack thereof, as he suddenly realized when the fat man’s face blanched and he let out a string of curses in Spanish.

Before he could react, Raul threw a punch at Nick’s face.

He’d never had to stoop to hand-to-hand with a human, so it didn’t occur to Nick that he ought to duck. When the hulking bodyguard’s fist struck him in the jaw, however, he actually felt it.

Letting out a grunt, he staggered back.

His vision blurred and pain stitched his skin for a moment, but aside from that, it wasn’t so bad. Then Raul came at him again, rubbing his fist like he’d punched a brick wall, but ready to strike again.

The fat man scrambled into the car, shouted to his driver, and they blazed off.

Raul, closing on Nick, didn’t notice. He reached behind his back, pulled out a handgun, and flipped the safety off.

“The hell you think you are, man?” He cocked the hammer.

Nick would enjoy watching what happened to the smug look on his face when the bullets bounced off him.

Raul fired.

Nick felt a sting in his shoulder, then from behind them came a growl.

Lito.

He lunged at Raul, swinging at his face just as he turned towards the sound. Raul caught Lito’s fist with his free hand, twisted it until he fell to his knees, then pressed the muzzle of the gun against his forehead.

“You had to know this was coming.”

Lito squeezed his eyes shut, anticipating the inevitable.

Nick reached for Raul’s shoulder.

Before his fingers even made contact, Raul threw the gun to the ground, screaming. He fell on his hands and knees, then began rolling around from side to side shrieking in agony. He got up, ran forward a few yards, threw himself on the ground and began rolling again.

Lito wasn’t watching. Knees still bent, he was looking upward, his eyes filled with awe.

He bowed his head and whispered, “Dios mio.”

“Get up, Lito.”

He didn’t. Instead he cast a nervous glance at Raul, still writhing and screaming like a pig being slaughtered, then looked back at Nick.

“Who…what are you?”

Not much sense saying he was an angel when he’d soon be a mortal, and he wasn’t a hundred percent angel anymore.

“A friend,” Nick said.

“What did you—? I don’t understand, but I thank you.”

In the distance, Raul’s screams died down to a whimper. He was now balled up into a fetal position, his entire body quaking. Lito looked over in his direction and shook his head in wonder.

“If that’s the sort of friend you keep,” Nick said, “I’m not surprised at what kind of enemies you have.”

“What did you do to him?”

“I only made his dreams come true.”

“Dreams?”

“Nightmares.” A dull pain nagged at Nick’s shoulder. He rubbed it, then felt a slight chill. “I’m not sure what Raul fears most, but I wouldn’t be surprised it’s being burned alive.” He had neither the time nor inclination to fully explain. And judging by that look of wonder still on Lito’s face, the explanation wouldn’t help much.

“What are you, some kind of hypnotist?”

“Something like that.”

Lito gave him a long look, then said, “No, you’re more than that. I mean, you just show up out of nowhere, mess up Raul’s brain, and—wait! You look familiar.”

Nick scanned the area. All the commotion was sure to draw some onlooker, no matter how remote a part of the parking deck it was. “Would you please get back into your car and get out of here?”

“Yeah…” Lito started off, then stopped in his tracks. “I remember you. We’ve met before!” But when he turned around, Nick had already dropped out of his perception. The words floated out of his mouth as he realized. Eres un ángel.

Lito walked. And thought. And made a decision.

Fifteen minutes later, he knelt before the crucifix at Our Lady of Peace in Chula Vista and from a heart filled with gratitude thanked his merciful God for the angelic visitations and protection that had spared him. He vowed to turn his life around, right all his and any of his family’s wrongs he could.

He left the church feeling like a new man, not one whose life was, in fact, in greater peril than ever.

55

NICK STOOD OVER RAUL, WHO WAS still curled up in a ball and moaning. The worst thing about constructs like these was that every physical sense was engaged and tied directly to the emotions and mind. For all intents and purposes, Raul’s reality was that he’d been doused in gasoline and set on fire. Only the pain wouldn’t end, as it would in death.

Nick rubbed the ache in his shoulder again and shivered. What an odd sensation. Was he feeling human chills because he was now really becoming mortal? It wouldn’t be the first time an angel wish had been granted before a formal approval.

At his feet, Raul’s gasps formed into words Nick could hardly make out.

“Oh, God, let me die, let me die…”

Nick made himself visible.

“No, my friend.”

He bent down and touched Raul’s head. Raul stopped screaming, then let out a long, slow breath.

“Gracias, amigo” he said. “Gracias.”

Facing death, humans showed their true nature. Raul now revealed himself as one who had used his brutality to hide weakness. Reduced to a puddle of fear, he was pitiful. Nick shook his head and sighed.

“You will never go near Carlito Guzman again, do you understand?”

Eyes still shut, Raul nodded as the construct seeped away.

“Yes. Yes, I understand! Completely.”

“You will never again engage in this sort of work. If you do, you will be visited by beings far worse than me.”

Raul opened his eyes, then immediately shielded them from the blazing light Nick allowed him to perceive. For good measure, he revealed his wings and brandished a flaming sword like the one he’d used with Balaam and his donkey a few millennia ago.

“Never again. I swear!”

The sincerity in Raul’s eyes was palpable. Through the ages, many had repented from their ways because an angel had touched or in this case, smote them. This had never been part of Nick’s duties as a guardian. But he rather enjoyed it—he’d done something that made sense.’

To him, anyway.

“Get up, Raul.” Because he cared naught for his soon-to-be-defunct career, he proclaimed the heavenly injunction reserved exclusively to archangels: “Cease from your wicked ways and go pray for forgiveness.”

Raul got up and knelt before him with bowed head and hands folded.

“Not to me, you idiot,” Nick said. “Go on and get out of here!”

Raul straightened up and ran off.

But Nick had once again defied his orders and failed to complete an assignment. There were sure to be repercussions—that wouldn’t change just because he planned to leave the angel ranks. Best to check in with Lena now. Colin Powell was right: Bad news isn’t wine, it doesn’t improve with time. Time to let her know he’d failed with Hope and Lito.

He took out the smartphone Lena had given him at the beginning of this set of assignments. Oddly, it was becoming less and less tangible. He could see it, touch it, even press the icons on the screen, but it almost looked and felt translucent. Of course, it too was a construct.

He found Lena’s contact icon and pressed it. Right away, he heard the three-note chime that preceded the recorded message: