“My hair is … perfect,” she heard herself say.
Cue the smiles from Pablo.
After he whipped the cape off her shoulders, she went back to the dressing room, put her clothes on, and got another load of whoa. Her hair elevated the black slacks and simple sweater to something that might have come from Saks. Even her red Coach bag took a step up, looking downright Italian all of a sudden.
As she walked out of the dressing room to pay, she felt like she had television-commercial hair, the kind that bounced with every step, and shined under even low lighting, and made men and women stop short.
At the reception desk, she got out her checkbook, and felt her eyes bulge even though she’d known how much this was going to cost.
“Vuld yoo lick ta mayb yoo next abbointment?”
Cait glanced up from the zeroes she was filling out. Right behind Pablo, there was a floor-to-ceiling mirror, and over his right shoulder, she caught sight of her new look.
Excellent marketing device, she thought, as she stared at herself and began to nod.
She left five minutes later with considerably less in her checking account, and an appointment card for a touch-up in six weeks in her purse.
As she walked out and went over to her Lexus, she couldn’t believe she’d done it. But at least she was getting familiar with this feeling of buyer’s shock. Heck, she still had it over her new car—well, the SUV was “new” to her. CarMax had given her a great deal on a used one, and she had to admit, it was the nicest thing she’d ever driven.
But she continued to have the head spins over the thing from time to time.
The second she got in her SUV, she cranked the rearview mirror down and fluffed her goldie locks. What good timing, she thought—considering that for the first time in God only knew how long, she was meeting a friend after hours.
Starting her engine, she pulled out onto the empty road and retraced her route away from the wealthy enclave. Her “date” was actually her old college roommate—
As the past began to bubble up, she turned on NPR to cut the quiet, and hit the brakes at a red light. Leaning in, she couldn’t resist glancing into the rearview again—
“Oh, crap …”
Cait turned her head to the opposite side, even though that was silly. But at least she hadn’t lost both her earrings.
The thing had probably come out in the dressing room. Her sweater had a tight neck, and those little gold shells had iffy backings. As the light turned green, she hit the gas and told herself to just leave it—
That didn’t last long.
The earrings were solid fourteen-karat, but more than that, she’d bought them on her one Bahaman vacation right after graduation.
Wrenching the wheel left, she executed an illegal turn and headed back to reclaim what was hers.
As Adrian manifested himself in Heaven, he hummed that Eric Clapton song—in tune, because there was no one around to annoy with his fake tone-deaf routine.
“… would you know my name…”
The lawn was a bright spring green, and the sky as brilliant and resonant a blue as a cathedral’s stained glass. To the left, the protective walls of the Manse of Souls stood sturdy and tall as a mountain range, the drawbridge down over a moat that shimmered in sunlight that had no obvious source.
Up on the parapet at the top of the wall, only two victory flags waved in a lazy way—one colorful banner was missing.
What the hell was Jim thinking?
Adrian kept walking. Off to the right, next to a croquet setup, there was a table set for tea, four chairs surrounding all kinds of damask and porcelain and silver. No one was sitting at it. In fact, as he looked around, he got the distinct impression he was alone.
Made no sense—Colin had summoned him here, so the archangel had to be—
The whistle was high-pitched and distant, floating across the landscape to his ear. Pivoting around, he looked toward the river, and then started marching over in the uneven gait he was still adjusting to. Funny, he hadn’t noticed before how much grass there really was—but with his bum leg, he’d been learning new things about what distance really meant.
The archangel Colin was down at the tree line, by the old-fashioned British campaign tent that was his private quarters. Standing in the stream that wound around his little slice of Heaven, he was buck-ass naked, the rushing water teeming up to his hips.
“Moving a bit slower now, mate?” the guy said as Ad got in range.
Whatever—his gimp routine was not the reason he’d come. “We have a big f**king problem.”
Typically, Colin was good for a wisecrack or two—not tonight, evidently. The archangel emerged from the river, his powerful body glistening, his strong legs leading him over to where he’d hung his white towel on a tree branch.
“How bad is it down there?” he asked as he covered up.
Ad grunted while he lowered himself onto a rock, its warm face feeling good on his sorry ass. “So you know where Nigel is.”
“But of course.”
“Then you also know why I’m not going to waste time here.” Ad held up his palms to cut the oh-no-I-couldn’t-possibly’s. “Jim’s just taken a left-hand turn off the road and into the weeds. No one down there is in the game—except for Devina, and you know what? If Jim’s distracted now? That ain’t nothin’ compared to what’ll happen if the demon gives him that girl.”
Colin’s response was just a shake of the head. And that was so not good enough.
Ad cursed. “Seriously. Before we lose this whole goddamn thing, you need to step up. I already know I can’t go to Nigel about anything—he and I are oil and water and then some.”
Colin pushed his dark wet hair out of his harsh face. “I had hoped…”
When that was as far as the guy got, Ad shrugged. “Hoped what? That Jim slipped in the shower and hit his head hard enough to wake the f**k up? Hell, if there was any chance of that, I’d c**k him upside with a two-by-four myself. But let’s not kid ourselves. The savior’s no longer in this game, and I don’t think he’s coming back—even if Nigel threatens to rip him a new one.”
Colin curled his hands into fists, like he wanted to do a little swinging himself. “Jim is the sine qua non. There is nothing we can do to turn him over, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”
“Like I want the job?” Ad laughed harshly. “Are you f**king me.”
“That is not why you came?”
“I want to win. That’s the only reason I’m here.”