Wicked Kiss
Page 39

When I looked up, my window was open again.
Bishop was gone.
The cold air blew in, chilling me to my bones, even as my hunger began to fade.
Chapter 12
I think I got about an hour of sleep that night. If that.
My brain worked overtime, trying to process what I’d seen. What I’d learned. Focusing on Bishop’s memory was good for one thing, though—it took my mind off Stephen. Off Julie. Off my own problems.
Since Bishop’s eyes were bad back then, I hadn’t gotten a very good glimpse at anything, but I could tell this much...based on the clothes the dead woman wore, the jewelry, how Kraven was dressed...
It was a long time ago. But how long?
Seeing this memory brought forth another thousand questions that now needed answering. But nobody was willing to answer them.
All I knew was that he and Kraven had been grave robbers. Bishop had been fifteen, and Kraven, sixteen—so approximately three years before they died. They worked for somebody named Kara, who they didn’t trust—a woman who was getting into the occult. That didn’t bode well for what I knew about their futures.
It had been disturbing, but it hadn’t made me loathe Bishop or fear him. I didn’t know why he wanted to keep his past from me so badly that he wouldn’t even tell me his real name.
After I forced myself out of bed, had a shower and got dressed, I saw Cassandra downstairs. I half expected her to know about Bishop’s midnight visit, as if she might have some kind of angelic intuition about this sort of thing, or felt the spark of energy between us that still, hours later, made my skin tingle.
The angel gave me a weary look. “I’m still tired.”
“Join the insomnia club,” I said, nodding at the cupboard. “Coffee’s up there.”
“Will that help me?”
“Probably not. But it’ll feel like it does for a little while. My mother swears by the stuff to get her through a long day. I think she’s one of Starbucks’s best customers.”
Cassandra got the canister of coffee down and looked at it, confused. Finally, I took it from her and helped make a pot of coffee, then fixed it for her like my mother would—heavy on the cream and sugar.
She sipped from the mug gingerly, then gave me a smile. “I like it.”
“Hooray.” I sat down at the kitchen table after grabbing some toast and peanut butter—the pieces piled high on my plate to help stave off my constant hunger. I had a cup of coffee, too, even though it wasn’t my drink of choice. Then I gave the angel a guarded look. “So off to do your mission today?”
“Of course.”
“The mission with the others or your supersecret one?”
She blanched. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I shrugged. I wasn’t prepared to tell her I read her mind the other night. At least, a small piece of it. It would raise too many questions I didn’t want to answer right now. “If you say so.”
Cassandra’s real agenda for being sent here wasn’t my concern—at least, I didn’t think it was. Today, I had to get my bearings again. I had to find Stephen. I’d been so close at the mall yesterday—I had to find him before...
I took a gulp of the hot coffee and swallowed it down.
If he went through stasis, if he turned into a total sociopath instead of only a part-time jerk...
Then I was in serious trouble. Without my soul I was next on the list to either turn evil or die.
My attention was again drawn to the blond angel standing nervously by my kitchen sink. She gripped the counter behind her. Her skin was pale. This wasn’t the warrior I’d seen kick Roth’s ass on Saturday night. Something was wrong with her.
Concern welled inside me. “You okay?”
She blinked, as if my voice summoned her out of her deep thoughts. “Oh, yes. I’m fine. Of course I am.”
“You seem a little distracted this morning.”
“Sleep is important. I failed to get enough.”
“That’s all it is?”
She brought her coffee mug to the table and sat down across from me. “It’s different here. I—I feel different from when I’m home. The sleeping is one thing. The need to eat is another.”
“Okay.” She was starting to worry me. “What’s wrong, Cassandra?”
Her blue eyes raised to mine. “Emotions. They’re...troubling.”
“In general, or your emotions?”
“Mine.” She swallowed hard. “It’s like a sensory rush—a wave crashing over me. Too much all at once. I can barely process it.”
“Is that because you’re one of the hosts?”
She nodded. “It would be different for one who was once human. They’d already have experienced all of this. But for me...” Her cheeks reddened. “I need to be focused while I’m here. It’s so important that I don’t get distracted. But...it’s proving to be a challenge. Especially when I’m around him.”
Him.
My grip tightened on my coffee mug. The hot liquid burned my fingertips through the ceramic, but I didn’t let go. “I’m not following.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to follow if she was talking about Bishop. Jealousy poked its pointed head up and glanced around with a sour look on its face.
She forced a smile. “Forget it. It’s nothing.”
Was she trying to say she was falling for Bishop? That being around him made her feel things—confusing things?