Jim yanked his leathers on commando, and in the silence, he wanted to scream.
"He's right," Eddie said.
Shooting a glare over his shoulder, Jim bit out, "And you can leave, too. I don't need either one of you."
There was a beat of quiet and then Eddie's brows slowly lowered, cranking down over those red eyes ... that suddenly started to glow.
Jim took a step back, but not because he was afraid he was going to hit the guy. More like he realized he'd thrown a match on some gasoline.
Eddie Blackhawk pissed off was not something to f**k around with.
In a voice that warped as if it were a radio going in and out of frequency, the angel growled, "You want to be an island? Good luck with it - I saved your c**k and balls last night, and that wasn't the first time. You think Adrian's the problem in this? Take a look in the mirror, you'll get further."
On that note, Eddie pivoted on his heel and shut the connector, locking it in place. Then a brief flare of incandescent light suggested the angel had taken off the old-fashioned way.
Wheeling around, Jim picked up a cheapo chair, raised the thing over his shoulder, and got ready to throw it at the door.
Except he paused as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror over the dresser.
His face was flushed with fury, his eyes glowing icy blue in the same way Eddie's had gone Christmas-light red. His T-shirt was stretched tight across his bulging chest and shoulder muscles, and Sissy's delicate necklace was cutting into the cords of his neck.
Slowly lowering the chair, he leaned into the glass and checked the tiny gold links. Any more of that and he was going to break the thing, just split it right in half.
"Dog, I'm going out for a little bit."
When there was no chuffing reply, no pawing at the calf for attention, no pair of scruffy ears popping up over the far edge of the bed, he pivoted around.
"Dog?" Jim whistled through his teeth. "Dog?"
Maybe the little guy had gotten locked in over at Eddie and Ad's. Going to the door, Jim went to spring the lock with his mind -
No luck.
No Dog, either.
He was alone.
For a moment, he had a head scratcher, a kind of what-the-fuck-just-happened-here. But then he shut his connector and dead bolted it. All things considered, this split had been inevitable. He and Adrian had gotten into a fistfight within forty-eight hours of officially working with each other, and all that oil/water had continued to simmer below the surface. And yeah, Eddie was cool, but Jim had the sense he could lap the guy when it came to the magic - so he couldn't say he felt compromised.
It was neater this way. Cleaner.
Besides, when he'd been under Matthias the Fucker at XOps, he'd always worked alone, so this was also business as usual.
He was used to this.
Partners, whether professional or personal, were just too goddamn messy for the likes of him.
Chapter 16
"I beg your pardon."
Up on the lawn outside of Heaven's castle, Nigel looked across the linen-draped table and nodded at a Royal Doulton plate. "I should like the scones, please."
"That is not what you said." Colin sat back in his dainty chair, his black eyebrows down over eyes that were full of curses.
Their two dining companions - well, three if you counted the Irish wolfhound - stopped in midsip ... or sniff, in Tarquin's case. Nonetheless, Bertie delivered the plate in question, his fair face full of compassion, as was his way.
Suffice it to say, however, that no matter how glorious the pastry on the bone china was, tea was ruined.
"Nigel, what the hell have you done."
"I shall thank you to not address me in that tone, Colin."
"And you can pop off with the etiquette. What do you mean, you've been to see the Creator."
Nigel broke open his fresh currant scone, and breathed in the waft of sweet steam that rose up. Indeed, they did not require sustenance, but to deprive oneself of this pleasure on a technicality was absurd.
Byron pushed his rose-colored glasses up higher on his nose. "I am sure he had his reasons, did you not."
Unlike Colin, who was a hardheaded bull, the other two would merely wait for whatever Nigel chose to impart. Bertie, with his soft heart, and Byron, with his eternal optimism, were more delicate creatures than that other one, capable of demonstrating the virtues of restraint and patience in abundance.
Colin, however, would perhaps inquire but once more. And then he would start pounding the tabletop.
So naturally, Nigel took his time with his butter knife.
And naturally, one could feel the heat from the other side of the table sure as flames atop hardwood.
"Nigel. What has transpired."
He replied only after his first bite had been chewed thoroughly. "I believe we have discussed the other side's predilection for ... how shall one put it ... the creative readjustment of reality - "
"She's a cheater and a whoring liar," Colin spat.
"Must you be so blunt." Nigel put the scone down, his appetite gone. "And may I remind you again that we, too, have broken the rules? Our hands are likewise unclean, old friend, and - "
" 'Tis but a patch on what she hath wrought - "
"You shall desist the interruptions. Now."
The pair of them glared at each other in unbroken, unwavering silence ... to the point where Nigel knew well he would be sleeping alone this night - and that was more than fine with him.
"Are we finished arguing?" Nigel patronized.
Colin opened his mouth, then shut it with a clap.
"Good. Now, as I was saying, the Creator was aware of the transgressions - on both sides." Nigel tested the temperature of his Earl Grey tea, expecting, and finding, that it was perfect. "But I acknowledged our derelions and the fact that it is hardly fair of us to demand things of Devina that we are not prepared to honor as well."
"Her nature is as it always has been," Bertie said quietly. "She cannot help who and what she is. Surely the Maker knew this from the start."
"I think so, yes." Nigel took more of his tea. "There was no surprise at any of it. In fact, I received the impression ..." Nigel chose his words carefully, as one should never speak for the Creator of all things good and evil. "I almost believe it was all expected. Her violations. Our attempt to provide aid to Jim in the form of Adrian and Edward. All of it."
"And the outcome of your query is?" Colin barked.
"Unknown as of this moment. The Maker did impart news of the most unfortunate kind, however. As I was leaving, I was informed that there has been a fracture of goodwill among Jim and Edward and Adrian."
"Oh, they mustn't fight," Bertie murmured.
"Since when?" Colin demanded.
Nigel placed his china cup precisely in its saucer. "It just happened, evidently."
Colin's brows tightened once again which meant he was thinking. Never a good thing. "What transpired?"
"The Creator did not say, and it is not my place to inquire." And how he wished he could impart the same restraint to the archangel's heart. "But it is clear Jim is on his own."
Which was a disastrous course. The savior was strong, but had no experience in the ways of this ancient war. He was now a sitting pheasant to that demon's proverbial bird-shot.
"But I do believe the Maker is going to take action," Nigel concluded.
"Against us?" Colin asked.
"We shall wait and see."
There was nothing to promise his colleagues, no faith to install in them by virtue of conversation. Once one presented something to the Maker for consideration, the matter was out of one's hands, and there was no way of predicting how the dominoes lined up would fall.
"I am going down there," Colin announced. "Heron can't be alone."
Why can everyone not adhere to the rules, Nigel thought. Just once.
As he picked up his teacup and held it with his pinkie extended, he realized anew that if there was one thing that could be depended upon, it was Colin's passion: For all that he was the intellectual among them, the truth was, by nature he was fiery, his cognitional control naught but a hard-won overlay covering his true constitution.
"Nothing to say, Nigel?" Colin charged bitterly. "No, 'oh, no, you may nots'?"
Nigel focused on the castle that loomed in the near distance, and when he finally spoke, it was in a low voice that, coming from another, he would have termed as saddened. "We have an opportunity to seize this game. I would ask that you consider the action I just took - it would be foolish to follow it up - immediately - with precisely the kind of violation I presented for the Creator's redress."