“Your mistake. Without his supernatural abilities he’ll be useless to us.”
“I didn’t know. I’ll fix this, I swear!”
Morloch lifted her chin.
“You’ll have to deal with him, Lena.” She tried to stand, but the best she could do was get up on one knee.
“You said so yourself—he’s of no use. So as a powerless mortal, he’s no threat.”
“All the same,” he said as he pulled her to her feet, “if there’s any chance he might still influence an unfavorable outcome at the event, I want him dead.”
The thought of killing Nick caused her a puzzling degree of regret. But she mustn’t let it show.
“Can you handle that,” Morloch said, “or do you need me to step in?”
“No! I mean, yes, I can handle it and no, you don’t need to step in.”
“You’re not likely to be entrusted with a large scale operation if you’re unable to accomplish something this simple. Because those ‘menial’ tasks have not been completed, the event is still at risk for us. You’re losing sight.”
“I assure you I’m not—I just need a little more time.”
“Terminating him is just one part of it. Because of his failed assignments, you’ll have to try harder to stop the outbreak that will happen as a result of the Cabrillo event. That’s the greater concern.” He narrowed his eyes. “I trust you know I’ve stuck my neck out for you on this.”
And without his help she’d never be able to carry out her plan.
“You have my word, it will be done.”
“It had better, Lena.” He pulled away and stepped back into the wall lit with the hue of blood. “Because if you fail at this event, I will disavow any involvement. Expect no protection from me, you’ll be on your own when the accounts are settled.”
65
THE TAXI HAD A CREDIT CARD SWIPER which Nick used to pay his fare and tip. It wasn’t certain that an attempt to teleport would fail, but the pain and nausea were sufficient to discourage it. The driver pulled up and let him off at the corner in La Jolla where he’d left Hope.
She wasn’t there.
A quick glance at his phone told him he’d missed a call and two text messages from her, the last of which said she was going back to the Broadmore. He called her and was instantly relieved when she answered.
“Nick? Where are you?”
“Back here by the shore. I’m sorry, they just took me away before I could tell you.”
“Who?”
“My supervisor. She can be really inconsiderate.”
“Everything all right?”
“Just a few loose ends.” More than a few, actually.
“When will you be back?”
He thought about Lena’s mysterious proposition and Johann’s odd reappearance. If he were to let his guard down now, as his supernatural abilities drained away, might he be endangering Hope by associating with her?
“I’m not sure. Soon.”
“It’s all right, Nick. I’m exhausted and ready for bed. If you still have some work to do, go ahead. Just make sure to come for me in the morning.”
“I’ll try to get back before you fall asleep. But in case I don’t make it in time…”
Hope let out the sweetest, most endearing yawn. It sent a warm rush of affection through Nick’s ever-thickening blood.
“Good night,” she whispered.
“’Night.”
“Oh, and Nick?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.” And she hung up, gently.
How many times had he heard humans utter those three words—casually, carelessly, emptily? But when Hope had said them, they nearly robbed him of his breath. Now he understood why, at the dawn of humanity, Father had said, “It is not good for man to be alone.”
To ensure that nothing from his life as an angel would affect his new mortal life with Hope, Nick had to clear things up with Lena, make a clean break. But did he have to figure it all out right this minute? Right now, he’d much rather be with Hope. As he thought about her lying in bed waiting for him, the issue was decided for him.
In the blink of an eye, and to his pleasant surprise, he found himself standing at the edge of the bed in Hope’s room at the Broadmore. She was breathing evenly in a deep slumber while hugging an oversized pillow. Taking care not to wake her, he knelt and pushed an errant strand of hair from her face. Still asleep, she smiled. Nick kissed her forehead lightly.
He wasn’t sure he could still whisper into her spirit, especially in her sleep. But he had to try.
// I LOVE YOU, HOPE //
“Mmmm…” Her expression changed—ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly, but in all the time he’d known her he had never seen such contentment on her face. He had seen that expression on humans who’d been redeemed, been touched by grace. Would he ever know such peace?
For now, he would enjoy it vicariously through her.
Resting his head close beside hers, he kept looking at her even as a sharp pang impaled his chest. How was it possible? How could he love someone so much that it actually hurt physically? If only he could capture this moment, put it in a bottle and keep it for all—at least, for the rest of his natural life, anyway.
Still deep asleep, Hope murmured something he couldn’t make out. She stirred and began to whimper, her brow pinched together. “It’s all right…”
Not wanting to stir her from her dream, Nick remained still and listened.
A tiny sob broke through her words. “Don’t be afraid…it’s just a dream, it’s all just been like a dream. We’re going to wake up one day and laugh about it.” She sniffed and tears drew glistening lines down her face. Was she dreaming of Chloe? “I’ll see you soon…I love you.”
And with that, she began to weep aloud. Nick got into the bed, wrapped his arms around her, held her close. Hot tears seeped through his shirt and onto his chest. And then she opened her eyes.
“Oh, Nick!” Sorrow laced her features.
“I’m here, love.” He held her tight. “There, now. Just a dream.
“I’m so sad…don’t know why.”
“Can you remember anything?”
“No, I just woke up crying.” She leaned away from him so she could look right in his eyes. “Please, Nick. Don’t let go of me, not till I fall asleep again.”
“I won’t.” As he pulled her back into his arms, his wings unfurled from behind whatever remained of the construct of his mortal form. With them, he enveloped her while she returned to her slumber. “Ever.”
For the rest of the night until the dayspring he hid her there—under the shadow of his wings.
66
WHAT WAS IT ABOUT HUMANS THAT MADE THEM turn into idiotic tools the minute they had hold of power? Lena stood in a boardroom with Miguel Suarez, Roberto Hernandez, and sons of the Hernandez branch from the Guzman syndicate. She couldn’t let her contempt for them show—in light of what she’d just learned about Nick’s botched assignments, she was going to need their help.
“This better be good, Miguel,” said Roberto Hernandez, who was wearing an expensive Italian suit and a lot of jewelry. “I got a good mind to call this whole damn thing off.”
“It’s good, just listen to what the lady has to say.”
Lena stepped forward. “We all want the same thing. I’m offering you something greater than you can ever imagine, if you help me with one meager annoyance. Something you’ve wanted for a long time.”
Miguel lit a Cuban, leaned back, set his feet on the table and puffed.
“We just want all the Guzman territories. That little hijo de puta Carlito is messed up.”
With a wave of her hand, Lena dismissed the Guzmans.
“Forget them. When this is all done, they and everything you know will be gone. If you want in on the new global order, you’ll have to prove your usefulness.”