Covet (Fallen Angels 1)

Adrian reached up and cranked the rearview mirror his way. "Whatever, I'm gorgeous - wow.

I..."

"Look like shit," Jim finished. "But at least you could walk straight if you had to. Did you have to go for the jewels?"

Adrian prodded his nose. "I think you broke this."

"And now I'm probably shooting blanks for the rest of my life. At least your swelling's going to go away."

Adrian leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. In concert, both of them took a deep breath.

"You can trust me, Jim."

"Trust isn't something you can cold lab. It has to be earned."

"Then that's what I'm going to do."

As Jim made a noncommittal noise, he shifted delicately in the seat and his 'nads didn't appreciate the repositioning. After he negotiated a comfortable arrangement, he went back to watching the people in the parking lot. There was a predictable rhythm of them getting out of their cars, going into the store, and returning with filled carts or a couple of bags hanging from their hands. Witnessing it all, he was struck by how great the divide was between him and the rest of the planet. And not just because he was now playing in a paranormal game most of these fine patrons of the supermarket wouldn't have believed was real.

He'd always been separate. Ever since he'd found his mother on that kitchen floor, it was as if his root system had been plucked out of the soil and carried across the road to another plot of earth. His job hadn't helped. His personality hadn't either. And now he was seated beside a fallen angel who might or might not actually exist...who fought dirty.

Shit, it didn't matter if he was sterile. He was never getting a shot at having kids now, and keeping his crappy DNA out of the gene pool was no doubt the nicest thing he'd ever do for the human race. About ten minutes later, Eddie emerged with a cart full of plastic bags, and as he pulled up to the bed and started transferring the shit, Jim couldn't stand his own thoughts anymore and got out to help: All the mommies and dear little kiddies were just going to have to suck it up if they didn't like the way he looked.

Eddie didn't say one word as they worked together, which was a clear indication that whereas Jim and Adrian had kind of made up, Eddie was not on the "Kumbaya" train. Frankly, he looked like he'd had it with everything and everyone.

And no offense, the guy had one bizarre frickin' grocery list.

There were enough containers of Morton salt to deice a highway. Countless bottles of hydrogen peroxide and witch hazel. Vinegar by the gallon. Lemons. Fresh sage packed in see-through boxes. And four huge cans of Dinty Moore beef stew? "What the hell," Jim asked, "are we going to do with all this?"

"Plenty."

It took them about fifteen minutes to get back out to Jim's place, and the silence was a little less tense. As they pulled up to the garage, Dog's face parted the curtains at the big window. "You need the stuff to come up?" Jim asked as everybody got out. "Just one bag, and I'll get it."

Jim hit the stairs with his keys in his hand, and the second he unlocked the door, Dog was all about the OMG-you're-backs, running around in circles on the landing with his tail going propeller.

When Jim glanced down over his shoulder, he frowned and patted the dog absently. On the driveway below, Eddie and Adrian were standing close together and Eddie was shaking his head and talking as Adrian focused on a point by the guy's left ear - like he'd heard it all before and hadn't been interested the first time.

Eventually, Eddie grabbed the guy's neck and forced some eye contact. Adrian's lips moved briefly and Eddie squeezed his eyes shut.

After they embraced for a quick moment, Adrian roared off on his Harley. With a curse, Eddie grabbed a bag from the truck bed and clomped up the stairs. "Your stove work?" the guy asked as he came inside and Dog circled and wagged at his feet.

"Yup."

Ten minutes later he and Eddie were sitting down to two huge bowls of stew - which explained the Dinty Moore.

"Haven't had this for years," Jim said as he spooned up.

"Got to feed yourself."

"What'd you say to Adrian?"

"None of your business."

Jim shook his head. "Sorry, wrong answer. I'm part of this team, and I think considering the amount of shit you two know about me, it's time to start returning the f**king favor."

Eddie smiled tightly. "It's a marvel the pair of you don't get along better."

"Maybe we would if you guys would talk to me."

The long quiet that followed went unbroken until Eddie put his bowl down so Dog could go to work with what had been left.

"There are three things I know about Adrian," the guy said. "One, he will always do exactly what he wants, when he wants to. There's no chance of reasoning with him or changing his mind. Two, he will fight until he cannot stand for something he believes in. And three, fallen angels don't last forever."

Jim eased back in his chair. "I wondered about that."

"Yeah, we're not infinite - just relatively so. And that can't be ignored when it comes to him."

"Why?"

"Death wish. One of these days...his luck's going to run out and we're going to lose him." Eddie slowly stroked Dog's back. "I've shared a lot with that bastard over the years. Known him better than anyone, and I'm probably the only person who can really work with him. When he goes up in flames, it's going to kill me..."

Eddie didn't go on, but he didn't have to.

Jim had lost a partner once, too, and that shit sucked the will to live right out of you.

"What's he going to do with Devina tonight?"

There wasn't even a pause on that one: "You don't want to know."

Chapter 37

Before Vin had left the duplex, he'd packed a quick semi-picnic for him and Marie-Terese, and the remnants of it were scattered across the chipped table in his family's old kitchen: The tinfoil that had been around the sandwiches and the Cokes that were now mostly empty and the bag of Cape Cod potato chips they'd shared were going to be quick to clean up.

Dessert was the single Granny Smith apple he'd had at his place, and he'd been cutting off pieces of it and alternating one to her, one to himself. At this point, the thing was more core than apple, and as he cleaved the last viable slice from around the seeds, it was going to her.

For no apparent reason, he thought about what he'd said to Marie-Terese:

It's not what you've done - it's who you are.

He was very sure that was true about her...and also clear that it didn't apply to him in the slightest. The way he'd been living his life had been exactly who he was - a money-hungry bastard with absolutely no conscience.

But like her, he was leaving his old life behind. He still had the drive deep in his gut - except now he saw it as a problem, not something to act on. And the trouble was, he had no idea what form the future was going to take.

"Here, have the last piece." He took the slice from the blade of his knife and offered it across the table. "I cut it carefully."

She reached out her lovely hand and accepted what he wanted to give her. "Thank you."

As she ate the thing, he cleaned up, gathering the debris, stuffing it back into the Whole Foods bag he'd brought it in.

"When are they coming?" she asked.

"One hour after sunset, they said. This kind of stuff always seems to happen in the dark."

She smiled a little and wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. Leaning to the side, she looked out of the window, her hair swinging loose off her shoulder and bouncing. "Still pretty light."

"Yeah."

As he looked around, he imagined what the place could be like. Granite countertops. Stainless- steel appliances. Bust out the wall to the right and throw up an addition to make a family room. Rip out all the carpets. Paint. Wallpaper. Face-lift the shit out of the baths.

Young family would be happy here.

"Come with me," he said, holding out his hand.

Marie-Terese put her palm in his. "Where to?"

"Outside."

He took her through the garage and into the backyard - which was hardly a showpiece. The lawn was about as attractive as an old man's beard, and the oak in the back looked like the skeletal remains of a once gracious tree - but at least the temperature wasn't as cold as it had been.

Wrapping his arms around her, he hugged her close and gently closed her eyes with the tips of his fingers. "I want you to imagine we're on a beach."