Page 18 of Angel's Smoke

Shadows. Ashen smudges that, through the veneer of her glasses, still pulled at the lower lids of her eyes, spotlighting an exhaustion that seemed to swallow her almost as much as the comforter around her shoulders.

“Where’s your generator?” he asked, determined to get her warm and rested as soon as possible. They both knew it was unwise to run the thing while she was sleeping, but he could at least make sure it was ready to go come morning.

“It’s in the shed behind the house. The hookup is next to the electrical meter on the right side, where the oil tank is. The generator should already be on a little rolling dolly, and there’s a rack in the shed where the gas can should be.”

“Got it. You stay inside while I get this squared away.”

Iron didn’t want to linger on her front steps because he knew the nature of mortals. The longer he stood there, the longer she’d feel compelled to keep hanging her head out in the elements. The only way she’d hurry her butt inside was if he gave her something to observe through the window, so he threw his hood up and did exactly that.

The shed was an eight-by-ten metal number that sat crookedly on a concrete slab, which was sporting cracks in more than a few spots, not to mention overgrowths of moss. He was about to yank open the doors when the unfastened combination lock hooked through the loop that wassupposedto be holding the two doors together stopped him.

Iron simply stared at it, then blinked. Yup, the thing was definitely unlocked. He was about to mutter some choice words to no one in particular when a gust of biting wind whipped across his face, pressing its urgency into his actions.

“Later,” he ground out, yanking the stiff doors open while eyeing the rust that had built up on the doors’ track, wondering just how in the hell Anna expected to open this thing on a good day, let alone during a snowstorm. Once he blinked back the musty tang of algae that coated damn near everything, the generator wasn’t hard to find. It sat in the back corner like a sleeping metal giant, slightly rusted and worse for wear, but with all its knobs and pull cords intact, thank the mages.

Working quickly, he took care of the fluids as best he could, then lugged the thing through the gathering snow, leaving the dolly and its fucking office chair wheel casters behind. After he’d found the plug, secured the generator, and cranked that thing to life, he locked up the shed—properly this time—and trudged back to Anna’s front door.

She was already there to greet him, still with phone and flashlight in hand.

Stomping the snow from his boots, he slid through her front door. “Where’s your breaker box?”

“I can manage that, thanks.”

“The same way you managed to lock up your shed?”

An icy mask of indignation carved hollow lines into features already stressed with exhaustion. “Hey, need I remind you that I didn’t ask for your help?Again? And now’s hardly the time to nitpick how I live my life. The shed is old, all right? Half the time, I can’t even get the door holes to line up correctly to even slide the lock through in the first place, never mind going through the trouble of fastening it. I don’t often have a reason to go in there, and it’s not like I have super close next-door neighbors itching to steal from me. It’s called seclusion for a reason, and one of the benefits is not having to worry about whether your groceries will be nabbed out of your trunk if you need to take more than one trip to get everything inside.”

She let her eyes fall closed for a moment, took a deep breath, then opened them again. Her gaze landed on his face, but her attention was somewhere else. “Look, the shed’s on the list, too.” Her hand flew up to cut him off. “Yes, it’s a long list. Yes, it’ll all get handled eventually. But none of that is happening tonight.”

Iron wanted to go to her, to push right past her excuses and follow the track his metallic powers were pulling him along that had already identified and located the metals and wires of the breaker box within her house.Laundry room in the hallway to the right.But as soon as he lifted his foot, he was reminded of his snow-laden boots . . . and of another problem entirely.

If he took his boots off, he was stating his intention to farther enter her home, which she had not invited him to do. If he stayed on the doormat, he was resigning her to an evening of more work, more exhaustion, more goddamn survival, and it was already after midnight.

The beaten-down bravado in her gaze ripped the sigh from his lungs. “Can I stay here, at least, while you flip on the breakers? Just to ensure the generator’s working properly and you’ll be able to fire it up easily come morning. I’m not sure how old the oil is in that thing, and the gas can was only half full.”

Her eyes narrowed into slits, but there was no true fight in them. Thank the mages.“All right. Wait here.”

A moment later, a few lights flickered, the furnace groaned out of its slumber, and the low hum of the refrigerator compressor began vibrating the wooden floorboards.

Anna returned. “Seems to be working. I can’t run the entire house on the generator, so I have to pick and choose which amenities to fire up when. But it’s better than nothing. At least I can run the water pump and septic when I need to. I’m a simple girl, but if you take away my indoor plumbing, I’m a bear to deal with.”

“More so than usual?” Iron lifted a brow and waited . . . waited for her to jest with him again. He liked her fighting much more than freezing.

She hitched her comforter higher. “Yeah, but more like a giant panda or something.”

“A giant panda? Not a grizzly?”

“Nah. I’m not physically violent, just really passive aggressive. I always got the sense that pandas were given the luxury of black masks so they could silently judge other animals and people.”

“You know, I can’t say that I find fault in your logic.”

“Me neither.” She smiled, and damn if he didn’t enjoy the way her cheeks rose to meet the rims of her glasses, as if her joy was more than enough to support the rest of her.

“Go shut everything off, then get some sleep.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I’m not telling. Just suggesting.”

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