Page 41 of When the Angel Falls First

I was an immortal being, and she wasn’t. The enormity of it all was finally sinking in. I would be alone forever, after I watched my only shot at true love grow old and die. She would be married to someone else and have beautiful children. The best I could hope for after she was gone would be playing some twisted version of guardian angel over her descendants in between matching my assigned couples.

And all that time, for the rest of eternity, I would be unchanged—a stone unmoving in the river of humanity.

Never loved.

Always on the outside.

And for the first time in my long,longlife, it felt like my heart was breaking. Turning black and decrepit, just like Josie’s aura this morning.

“So, what are you working on today?” Gabriel asked afterordering a cappuccino and biscotti. “You’ve only got two couples left on the list and the book of angelic seals to find, right?”

“Right. I’m still shadowing the couples, and Josie is going to help me with some ideas tomorrow evening, now that her party has been taken care of. Today, though, I have another man I need to ask you about.”

I definitely wasn’t changing the subject to keep him from prying into my disastrously misguided infatuation with a human.

He leaned forward, interested. “Who is he?”

“Josie’s landlord. He’s allergic to her cats and trying to make her get rid of them. I was thinking there might be a way to help him, and in doing so, help her.” I pushed an impression of the man’s face and energy signature to him, and he frowned, searching the angelic registers for him.

“Ah, yes. Herb Anderson. Looks like we have him down as a switch.”

Interesting. So, he didn’t have a pre-ordained mate, and his fate was up in the air. “So, if I can find him a match who’s also available…”

“You would have the Host’s blessing.” Gabriel shrugged and stole a fry off my plate, not concerned about the fate of a switch in the least.

“Fantastic.”

I had some research to do, but I already had someone in mind for him. I might not be able to make Josie mine, but I could still give her the best life possible, one that would allow her to keep her cats.

If that was all I could ever give her, then it would have to be enough.

SEVENTEEN

Josie

I stormed into my apartment,slamming the door behind me with a satisfying bang. I kicked off my shoes and threw my head back in humiliated frustration.

“What the hell was I thinking?”

I chastised myself with every name in the book, shaking my head as if the motion could dislodge the memory.Of coursethe kiss had meant nothing. Caleb was myfakeboyfriend, and it was all a performance, nothing more. Just an act for the crowd, no strings attached.

“That’s what I asked for, isn’t it?”

A cold feeling of denial washed over me as I muttered the words to myself, the echo of my voice in the empty apartment doing nothing to make me feel one stitch better. There I’d been, halfway to tearing my lace underwear off with my own nails, when it suddenly became clear that whatever hot mess I’d become, it had all been my imagination. He didn’t reciprocate my feelingsat all.

“Such an idiot. An overworked, sex-deprived desperate idiot.”

My musing received a reply in the form of a familiar mewling sound. The trio of mysterious cats wound their way around my legs. I flopped onto the sofa and bent to scratch behind Matilda’s ears.

“Look who decided to grace me with their presence,” I cooed at them, my voice turning softer as I resigned myself to reality. “What are you, magician cats or something? How do you get in and out of places without the key?”

Maybe Caleb would know how they did it.Screw that,I shoved the thought away. This had to be a Caleb-free headspace for a while. Like forever.

I stood up and the cats trailed after me, their curious eyes following my every movement. The incongruity of their appearances and disappearances was almost comical. One minute, they were here, the next, they were gone, and then they would reappear at the shop when I least expected them, like feline Houdinis.

I scooped up Gatsby, his golden eyes reminding me a bit of Caleb. The thought made my stomach sink, and I found myself hugging the cat closer, his warm purr a comfort to my disquieted heart. The magician cats were a distraction, a comforting, furry distraction, which was exactly what I needed.

But as soon as I put Gatsby down, he and Matilda trotted off. Heathcliff waited behind, staring at the wall a moment longer, and then sprinted to follow.

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