Page 62 of When the Angel Falls First

For her, I would risk anything, give anything, even if it would kill me. I knew that now. She’d become the most important person in my life, no matter how hard I tried to keep her at arm’s length, to be the good angel. For Josie, I was willing to cross lines.

But how wouldshefeel when she found out that she couldn’t be my Chosen and that I might have unintentionally taken away her choice?

TWENTY-FIVE

Josie

I didn’t dareto take my eyes off Mr. Anderson as he roamed around the Bookish Cat with his nose in the air like a hound on a scent. He moved through each aisle methodically, his eyes narrowed in focus. Sword and sorcery, mythology, high fantasy… then through the non-fiction aisles, self-help, psychology.

His gray suit contrasted with the warm tones of the surrounding books, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the fairy lights we’d strung up along the shelves.

Every few steps, he paused, tilting his head slightly as he inhaled deeply, his bushy eyebrows furrowing in concentration. Then, he moved on, his polished loafers clicking softly against the wooden floor. From behind the counter, I watched him, biting my lower lip, while Caleb stood next to me, his arms folded across his chest. Dr. Elwyn, his allergist, stood beside us with a clipboard in hand, her gaze fixed on Mr. Anderson with an intensity that seemed to outstrip that of any allergist I’d ever met.

After what felt like an eternity, Mr. Anderson approachedMatilda, who was perched upon a table of award-winning classics. He eyed her warily, as though she were a live grenade ready to explode. Then, with a visible exhale, he reached out a hand and began to awkwardly stroke her soft fur.

I gulped. The moment of truth was nearly upon us.

His hand was stiff and unpracticed, moving in halting motions over her back. It was clear that Mr. Anderson was not a cat person, or rather, he was not an animal person at all. Yet, there was a strange sort of determination in his eyes, a willingness to face whatever reaction his body might have.

Matilda looked mildly annoyed but endured his clumsy petting with resigned grace.

Then, with the dramatic flourish of a Shakespearean actor, Mr. Anderson rubbed his eyes with that same hand. I gasped, anticipating a swift and severe allergic reaction. Caleb winced next to me, ready to jump into action if needed. Dr. Elwyn, however, simply watched calmly, pen poised above her clipboard, ready to note down any reaction.

“I’m starting the clock, one hundred and twenty seconds,” Dr. Elwyn announced and tapped it into her phone.

And we waited.

When your whole future waits upon one hundred and twenty seconds, they last longer than the Superbowl.

I scratched behind my ear. I searched out Gatsby who was hiding behind the offending box of gorgeous books from England. I couldn’t see Heathcliff. It must have been nearly time…

“Ninety seconds.”

Come on!

Mr. Anderson didn’t move. He stood like the sketch by Michealangelo of the Vitruvian Man, arms outstretched and legs wide, an eyebrow raised like he was as eager to know theresult as we were. When he wasn’t complaining or shouting, he was actually a pretty agreeable guy.

“Forty-five seconds.”

You have got to be kidding me. Wait, no, what’s happening to him…

Mr. Anderson’s nose twitched. I know I saw it, and Caleb must have, too, because he sucked in a breath.

This had to work, ithadto. It had been such a massive relief when Mr. Anderson nodded in agreement at the tax paperwork, but without the cats in the shop, the Bookish Cat couldn’t and wouldn’t be the same. On top of that, I had no way to ensure they wouldn’t make their way back. I’d have to send them across the country or deport them to Germany to be sure.

And that all sounded awful. I wanted them here. They belonged.

“Time.”

I inhaled sharply, nerves getting the better of me. “And?”

Mr. Anderson dropped his arms to his sides. “Nothing. I’m cured!”

I grabbed Caleb’s hand. “Are you sure?”

“I’msure,” Dr. Elwyn said. “I pulled out all the stops. Only the best for my Herbie.” She threw her arms around Mr. Anderson’s neck and laid one hell of a kiss on him in a move that shocked me nearly as much as the yellow notice on the door had.

I turned sharply to see if Caleb was as stunned as I was and found him—wait—grinning?

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