Wicked Kiss
Page 72

 Michelle Rowen

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“Hurry up,” Jordan urged.
I pried open one eye with annoyance. “Would you give me a—”
Snap!
“—has to be somewhere in the city.” Bishop  paced back and forth along the sidewalk. Dusk had fallen. Tall buildings  surrounded him—glass, concrete, steel. Out of the corner of his eye there  was traffic visible on the road, rush hour as everyone headed home from  their jobs. He was right downtown, a nameless street I was sure I’d been on  a million times before.
“Or she’s dead,” Roth said from  nearby.
Bishop turned on him. “Shut your  mouth.”
Whatever look was on Bishop’s face earned  a dark glare in return. “I’m sick of shutting my mouth.”
Bishop cast a glance over the rest of  them—all were present, Roth, Cassandra, Kraven, Zach and Connor—watching the  angel with varying degrees of wariness, uncertainty or disdain.
He fixed his attention on Cassandra. “Take  Roth somewhere out of my sight.”
She approached Bishop, her expression  cautious. “We’re all worried about her, you know. When she didn’t come home  last night—”
“You should have told me immediately, not  waited until today.”
She winced at the harshness of his words.  “She wanted us to leave her alone. I didn’t think—”
“That’s right. You didn’t.” He brought his  hands up to his face to cover his eyes, hunching over a little. “Not  thinking...can’t think...can’t keep it together. My head, it’s messed up,  more and more.”
“Come on, Bishop,” Zach said. “You’re  strong. You have this. We believe in you.”
Bishop snorted at that, a dry, humorless  sound—a trait he shared with his brother. “This soul.” He took his hands  from his face and clawed at his chest through his black T-shirt. “It’s  destroying everything.”
“So make yourself bleed again,” Kraven  suggested. He was the farthest away, leaning casually against the glass door  of a building. “If you need someone to hold the knife, I’m happy to  help.”
“Why would you say something like that?”  Connor snapped. For the one who usually had all the jokes and quips, he was  uncharacteristically pissed off.
Kraven shrugged. “Sheesh. Don’t get your  panties in a bunch, sunshine.”
“Doesn’t help anymore. Nothing helps.  Only...her.” Bishop fisted his hands at his sides as he turned a furious  glare on his brother.
Kraven raised his eyebrows. “Why do I get  the look of death? It’s not my fault gray-girl went AWOL.”
When Bishop swore, there was a harsh,  insane edge to his voice that scared me. He was seriously losing it. And the  more crazy he sounded, the more our connection began to get staticky, like a  TV station with interference. “I need to find her. Can’t find her, can’t  sense her—not like I used to. Where is she?”
Cassandra tentatively moved closer and  hugged Bishop against her. “We’ll find her. I promise we will.”
Bishop looked beyond the blonde angel to  Roth, who looked back at him with open animosity, his eyes glowing red in  the fading light of dusk.
So supportive, that demon. It made me want  to kick him as hard as I could in his demon crotch.
Zach and Connor stood together to Roth’s  left, both watching Bishop with tense expressions.
“What do you need us to do?” Zach asked.  “Name it.”
“Help me find her.”
Zach frowned. “How?”
Roth let out an exasperated groan. “Enough  already. We need to hunt grays. And in case you’re forgetting, we have that  other demon in town doing his best to make your precious little humans off  themselves. Remember that?”
Cassandra paled and she drew a shaky hand  through her hair. “He’s right. We do need to keep focus. I’ll go with Roth  and patrol. You and the others keep searching for Samantha.”
Bishop didn’t reply for a moment, but his  gaze was unflinching on both Cassandra and Roth. “Fine. Go.”
They didn’t hesitate. With a final  searching look from the angel, and an unpleasant one from the demon, the two  ran down the street to disappear around the next corner.
It was a hopeless feeling, watching this  and not being able to do anything.
But wait...maybe I was underestimating how  much I could do. I’d taken hold of that piece of Bishop’s soul to lead me  here—that had been intentional.
Maybe I could intentionally communicate  with him.
“Bishop!” I sent his name through the  razor-thin connection, along that silvery ribbon that joined us.
He brought his hands up to his head, his  breath ceasing completely for a moment.
“This is ridiculous,” Kraven said. “Pull  yourself together. What do you want us to do, boss? Speak now or forever  hold your tongue.”
“I thought I heard...” Bishop whispered.  “No, it’s impossible.”
I kept watching, now stunned. Had he heard  me?
“What is it?” Zach asked, drawing closer,  concern in his green eyes.
“I thought I heard...her. Calling to  me.”