Immortal
Page 21

 J.R. Ward

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
It was like a jewelry store for dudes.
She was about to grab one when she realized she’d forgotten that she was invisi—a fact that was made apparent as some woman who looked as lost as she herself felt plowed through her with an orange plastic shopping cart full of venetian blinds.
The sensation it caused was something like a fever breaking through her body, hot and cold vibrations rocking her. And the woman seemed to sense something, too—she yanked her cart to a stop and looked around.
Clearly, Ad and Jim had thought to make themselves apparent or the greeter wouldn’t have talked to them.
“Damn it,” Sissy whispered.
Then again, did she really want to run the risk of meeting up with someone she knew? Not that any of her friends from college or high school were going to be hanging in a place like this at eleven in the morning on a weekday—but you never knew about friends of her parents’.
And God knew she had enough to worry about already.
She had no frickin’ idea what the hell had gone wrong with Jim. And whereas she’d started out hurt and confused, now she’d evolved to a fuck-you phase of things.
That anger of hers to the rescue, she guessed.
The only thing that kept her from going off on him was the reality that they weren’t in a relationship. He didn’t owe her anything more than what they’d exchanged in her bed. And at least that part of it had gone well. She couldn’t imagine anybody treating her any better than he had. But then things had gotten twisted—and stayed that way.
The situation made her think back to all the phone calls and summit talks she and her friends had had as people in school had hooked up, started to date, and then broken up. She’d always been on the periphery of the drama, standing off to the side wondering what the problem with all these otherwise normal types was.
And then this morning had happened.
Yet another ahh-right moment that she would rather not have added to her repertoire. And, boy, it was hard not to think of what that demon and Jim had gotten up to during their night of fun and games.
Which just made her even angrier—
From out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a man standing by a display of screwdrivers. He was tall, dark haired, intense-looking … and he had a halo. Just like she and Jim did.
“Sissy?”
At the sound of Ad’s voice, she looked over her shoulder, then pointed at the guy. “Hey, it’s one of us.”
Ad’s frown tied his brows in a knot. “Yeah. I know him. Um … you get what we need?”
“Aren’t you going to go talk to him?”
“No.” He leaned in and snagged two hammers randomly. “Jim’s getting the plywood. Come on—we need some nails and a saw.”
Sissy glanced back at the guy, who didn’t seem to notice her or Adrian. “How do you know him?”
“It’s not important. Come on.”
“Who is he?”
“Just a guy.”
Giving up, she followed Adrian over an aisle and waited as he scored some boxes of nails. And then it was across into saw land.
Except before Ad made his choice from the two thousand available options, he stopped and stared at her. “How did you know him?”
She pointed to her own head. “He has a halo. Like me and Jim.”
Those eyes of his shifted upward. “No offense, but I don’t see anything there.”
“Little gold circle. Like a floating string of light tied to itself. It’s right here.”
Ad shook his head. “I got nothing, but whatever. Let’s get back and start fixing that room.”
By the time they got over to the big-ass-pieces-of-wood section of the store, Jim was pushing a large rolling platform over to a bulk-items checkout—and he must have sensed her presence, because he glanced over his shoulder.
For a split second, she couldn’t believe they’d actually had sex. That experience between the sheets seemed as distant as a dream, some kind of hazy hypothetical that maybe she’d just made up.
The delicious soreness between her thighs told her differently, however. So did her anger.
As there was no reason to wait next to Jim, she went over and stood by the automatic doors. People were milling all around, each with things in carts or in their arms, all of them with concentration on their faces like they had mental lists and busy enough lives so that having to come back for something they forgot was going to be a pain in the butt.
Not one of them had any idea what had happened yesterday in that parlor—or that they were being watched by someone who was not like them.
Hard to know whether their ignorance was a good thing or not. Would they be leading their lives differently if they were aware of what was really going on?
Probably. And it made her think of a game she and her sister had played: if you had twenty-four hours left to live, what would you do? She remembered her answers having a lot to do with chocolate. Then again, she’d been twelve the last time she’d—
God, she missed her parents. Her sister. Her friends.
Her life.
For no particular reason, she glanced out into the parking lot—and that was when she saw the car that didn’t belong: A big, black Mercedes-Benz was cruising the store at a trolling speed, its sleek lines gleaming in the spring sunlight.
The windows were blacked out so she couldn’t see who was driving, but she knew.
She knew.
As she stepped out of the store, the sedan eased to a stop in front of her and the passenger-side window went down. Sure enough, the demon was behind the wheel, and the instant Sissy locked eyes with her, the happy fact that they had both been with Jim crashed onto her head.
He had serviced them both. No doubt done the same things to Devina that he’d done to her just over an hour ago.
The kissing. The touching. The licking.
The sex.
Instantly, she was back in that parlor, holding Jim as he returned from the immortal dead, so relieved and a little superior that however much the demon seemed to want his attention, he had eyes only for her. But now? After he’d taken her virginity?
He was as cold to her as he’d been to the demon.
“That fucking bastard,” Sissy hissed.
The demon leaned across the empty passenger seat. In a grim voice, she said, “Get in.”
Chapter Twenty-one
“That’ll be four hundred ninety-eight dollars and seventy-six cents.”
Jim went for his wallet, shoving his hand into his back pocket. Taking out one of his credit cards, he was glad it had been under a month since he’d officially “died.” All his accounts were still open.
Come to think of it, he probably needed to liquidate his money before his death became a reality to the banks. Then again, who exactly was going to notify them that he’d died? Long as the monthlies were paid, he could go on forever.
Not that he had forever.
“We gotta find that fucking soul,” he said as he swiped the MasterCard down the reader.
“What’d you say?”
He glanced up at the clerk. “Nothing. And no, I don’t have one of those savings-card things.”
“Well, if you’d like to sign up, you’d save—”
“No. Thanks.”
He glanced over at Sissy and lost all train of thought as he saw her: The light was streaming into the open bay, catching the blond streaks in her hair and the glow in her skin. Her body was mostly hidden underneath the baggy sweatshirt, but he knew firsthand exactly how perfect she was built.
As his cock got to throbbing, he glared at his hips. Nope, he told the damn thing. Not the time, not the place, and definitely not with how things were between them.
Closing his eyes for a second, he intended to give himself a pull-it-together-man-whore pep talk—except all he ended up with were snapshots of her naked and spread, her body arching as he worked her out at her breasts.
Not what he needed. Not what was helpful.
Trouble was, his instincts were still to get her horizontal and go NIN on her. Except how was that going to work for them? They weren’t speaking, for one thing—for another, she wasn’t going to be ready for what he wanted now. Or probably ever.
She wasn’t the “fuck you like an animal” type.
“Guess who I just ran into.”
Jim glanced over at his wingman. “Who.”
“Matthias.”
“No … shit.”
“Yeah. Actually, Sissy pointed him out.” Adrian took some initiative and picked up the bag with the hammers and nails from the holders. “Mind if we hit Starbucks on the way home?”
“How the hell could she know him?” He frowned and looked to the entrance. “Wait, where is she—”
“Here’s your receipt, sir.”
She’d been standing by the exit, right by the fucking exit—
“Sir? Your receipt?”
“Where the hell is—”
Ad stepped in front of him. “She’s probably just wandering around. Where the fuck would she go? You stay here. I’ll find her.”
When Jim went to walk off, Ad locked a grip on his arm and yanked him back. “Stay. Here. I’ll go get her.”
The guy was probably right. Jim was liable to bark at her for disappearing even though she’d no doubt only gone for a stroll down the gardening aisle or something.
Pushing the rolling platform with the plywood off to the side, he waited by the door and patted his pockets for his cigarettes. Damn it, he’d left them back home—but it wasn’t like he could have lit up here anyway.
Where was she?
Always a firm believer in not panicking until it was time to, he threw a saddle on his adrenal gland and reined that shit in. Unfortunately, as Adrian came limping back with a frown on his puss and absolutely, positively no Sissy with him, Jim knew that something had gone bad.
“I can’t find her,” the other angel said. “Maybe she’s out at the Explorer.”
Jim exhaled in relief and felt like an amateur. Of course she’d go hang there. Take a load off. Blah, blah, blah.
Except when they went out to the SUV, she wasn’t anywhere near the thing. Or walking in the parking lot.
Leaving Ad with the stuff, Jim jogged back into the store and made quick work of the twelve million square acres of shelf space. Nothing. No Sissy.
As he ran full tilt from the store and back to Adrian, one last hope that she might have turned up got blown out of the water as he found Ad alone.
“Jesus Christ,” Jim demanded, “where is she?”
“He fucked you, didn’t he.”
As Sissy sat beside the demon in the Mercedes, she was too pissed off to be scared. Too pissed off even to speak.
“Well.” Devina glared across the interior of the car. “Didn’t he.”
She wasn’t about to share details with the enemy. But there was a serious satisfaction in slapping the bitch with, “Yes, he did.”
There was a long stretch of silence as the demon came to a full stop at a red light and then accelerated in a civilized way when the thing turned green.
Guess she was a law abider in some senses.
Sissy passed the time checking out the interior of the car. She’d never been in a Mercedes before, much less one of the super-fancy models: Everything was sleek lines and high-tech, leather and polished wood—the only thing out of place being the lack of a hood ornament out in front.
Hard to imagine anyone stealing something from the root of all evil and getting away with it.
“How’d he do you?” the demon gritted out. “From behind? He likes me from behind.”
Oh, there was a picture. “Not going there. But you know it’s true, don’t you.”
There must have been some way that Devina had known she’d been a virgin in the first place—only logical to assume the demon would be aware when she was no longer one.
“Does he pull your hair?” Devina demanded. “Bite your nipples? He’s rough. Was he rough with you?”
No, she thought. He was anything but rough.
Devina looked over again. “We broke the door on the shower at the hotel. The night before last.”
Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, Sissy thought. ’Cause these little sound bites were making her feel like punching something.
“He didn’t sleep when he was with me. Did he sleep when he was with you?”
“Yes,” Sissy answered. And then wished she’d kept her mouth shut.
“He was probably tired out from being with me.”
“Or the trip to Purgatory.” Sissy glanced over at the demon, measuring the stunning beauty that was just an illusion. “Is there a purpose to all this?”
“Yes, yes, there is. I want you to know that he hurt me really badly. Back in that parlor.” The demon met Sissy’s eyes. “And he’s going to do the same to you. You think I’m evil? You think Hell was bad? That is nothing compared to what that man is going to do to you. You’re in love with him, I can tell. So am I. And he has treated me with a total lack of respect.”
“Maybe he’s just not that into you.”
“It’s his nature, little girl. You don’t understand how he got this job. Don’t be fooled by anything he says or does—he is half-evil.”
“I can’t trust a thing you say, you realize.”
“Trust me, don’t trust me, I don’t give a fuck—your opinion about what I’m telling you doesn’t change the truth. Back in the beginning, Nigel and I had to both agree on the savior who would be influencing the souls. Jim is fifty-fifty, which is why we each gave our consent.” Devina put her directional signal on and made a smooth left turn. “I should have known he’d do this to me. And you might as well know what he’s really like.”