I struggled to remember what happened. Cas was injured. I’d tended that terrible wound on his back and then…
“Dammit,” I said, tears of frustration pricking my eyes.
Something had happened. I’d touched something beautiful, and it slipped away. Again, like Japan. Leningrad. The woman in…where? A few days ago, I’d had another dream but that was slipping away too. My only certainty was that sense of loss, like a cry echoing down a long hallway, finding nothing, just emptiness.
I started the coffee and took a shower, hoping one or both would help wash the mud from my thoughts. Nothing helped, and then it was time to dress for Kimberly’s wedding. I examined myself in the mirror. The empire-waisted dress flattered my figure, highlighting what I wanted to highlight and concealing what I wanted to conceal. I piled my hair on my head like the beautician had done the other day, leaving a few tendrils to curl prettily around my cheeks.
I was pretty. It felt like arrogance to think it but only for a moment because it wasn’t just physical. Despite my tumultuous thoughts, there was color in my cheeks and my eyes were brighter. Maybe this last week had brought out a spark of life in me.
Or maybe it had always been there.
I sighed. But so what? Was I finally pretty enough that Guy would sweep me off my feet? We’d live happily ever after and that would somehow save the demon I’d been harboring in my apartment for the last eight days?
“I’m an idiot,” I said before Deber or Keeb could.
The wedding was at noon. By eleven, there was still no sign of Casziel. The sense of longing and frustration swelled like a broken limb that refused to heal. I needed help. Guidance. Something.
I glanced around my empty place. “Daddy? Are you here?”
Cas had said he was close because he had unfinished business, whatever that meant. But there was no answer.
“I miss you so much and could really use some advice right about now.”
Silence. And time was running out. I called an Uber just as my phone chimed a text. No name or number, only: #######
I’m outside.
Considering I hadn’t given Cas my phone number—not to mention the fact that he didn’t own a phone—I thought I handled his phantom text well. I didn’t even flinch.
“I’ve dealt with worse,” I muttered.
I grabbed my purse and a lavender wrap and headed out.
Cas was at the bottom of the stairs. He wore a charcoal gray suit, black shirt, no tie. He was even more devastating, somehow, for not wearing all black. He looked like a human man who’d had a rough night. A scruff of beard on his angular cheeks, his hair loose and flyaway in the wind. I couldn’t stop staring at his mouth. His hands. I could practically feel his soft lips on mine—deceptively soft; they concealed biting teeth and a hard, sucking pull that drew me into him…
Those hands have touched me. I’ve kissed that mouth…
God, I was so damn tired of almost remembering.
Cas was staring at me, his gaze moving up and down. “You look…beautiful.”
“So do you,” I snapped. “Did you rob someone for that suit?”
His eyes flared at my confrontational tone. “It’s paid for, Lucy Dennings.”
“I hate it when you call me by my full name. Where did you get the money? Did you rob me?”
“The funds are from a coworker. I intend to pay you back for all you’ve spent on me—”
“Keep it. I don’t want your money.”
He cocked his head. “Something on your mind, Lucy Dennings?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact,” I said, crossing my arms. They pushed up my boobs, amplifying the cleavage in the square-cut bodice. His eyes flared again, an
d I felt an answering heat in my belly. I cleared my throat. “What happened last night? Tell me the truth.”
“We watched a favorite television show of yours and then you fell asleep.”