Page 97 of Death Deals

God, I hoped so.

I got ready in a hurry, my sights set on my favorite stool at Arrogant Bastard and passing time with a certain old cowboy, his wife, and peculiar, prudish witch. Oh, and I was sure there was a rum and coke there with my name on it. Couldn’t forget that.

Excited to catch up with them all, I rushed to the door, threw it open, and collided with something solid. A wall of muscle.

I staggered back, rubbing my forehead. “Eli?”

Yep, it was the Guardian who was standing there at my door. Surprise, surprise. By the strained look on his face, he may have actually been there for quite some time. His dark hair was disheveled like he’d run his fingers through it too many times, and a deep indent in the rug suggested he’d been pacing.

“Jade,” he gasped. “I’m sorry. I was just going to—”

I put my hands on my hips. I should have known better to think I’d get a break from him or the war. This apocalypse was waiting for no one. “What do you want, Eli? Heaven need me?”

“No—well, yes. Of course, but that’s not why I’m here,” he stammered through the sentence.

I’d never seen him so off-kilter. He’d always seemed near perfect to me, even when things were going to hell in a handbasket. It was strange seeing him this way. Almost…normal.

If he wasn’t here to bring me back to Heaven, then why had he come?

Acid churned in my stomach. I had a pretty good idea. He must have come to talk about our relationship, or what he wanted of it again.

“Eli,” I groaned. “I thought we talked about this. I really don’t want to—”

“It’s not that,” he said quickly. “I’ve been thinking about what you said to Michael, about finding a way to include others in our fight with Hell, and you were right.”

I paused. Stunned.

He kept talking. “We don’t have the numbers or the capacity to take on the demons. We’re behind in preparing. It’ll be a suicide mission.”

Well, shit. At least someone got it.

I waved for him to come inside. He stepped through the door, his large frame taking up most of the living space. Compared to his place at the Holdings, mine was inadequate in every way.

“Did you try telling this to Michael?” I asked him, crossing my arms.

“If he didn’t listen to you, he won’t listen to me. I’m just a Guardian,” he replied.

Not sure what that meant exactly, I didn’t press.

“I saw how fiercely your living friends fought alongside you,” he went on. “Having them with us during the war could be an asset. We need the help.”

And there was no shame in asking for it. I had learned that the hard way.

“Michael must know the odds aren’t in our favor here,” I said. “Why is he refusing? It makes no sense.”

“I think he believes this is how it was meant to be. God created us for this sole purpose. To seek outside help is like—”

“Saying our entire existence is a sham,” I finished for him.

“Exactly.”

“Things change,” I said. “Hell was preparing for the war way before we were. They have the advantage now, so it’s time to adapt. To change.”

He nodded. “I understand that now. The fight with Mammon opened my eyes, and you’re right. Heaven needs help.”

Then, the next question was, what were we going to do about it?

“I’ve been telling you we’re a team since we were brought back together, but I haven’t been doing a very good job at showing you what I meant by it,” Eli said. “You’ve felt alone, even with me here, and for that, I’m truly sorry.” Pushing his hand through his hair once more, he sighed. “I’ve been here for centuries, but I’m still learning it seems. You helped me realize that.”