Page 56 of Price of Angels

He startled the secretary, and she shied hard, bumping into the wall.

Ghost glanced up with surprise, but as a rule, the man never startled. “Yeah?”

Michael braced himself inwardly. Here went nothing. “I think I want to take you up on your offer. You’re right; I need a little time off.”

Ghost nodded and went back to his paperwork. “Good. Fine. Whatever you need.”

Was it really that easy? He’d never tried it, so he hadn’t known. Ghost had been the one to suggest a break to begin with, but so often, people went back on their word.

“You’re sure?”

Ghost spared him a curious look. “Yeah. Go visit your uncle. Get laid. Something. You’re too wired.”

Michael searched his mind for a secret disappointment. Had Ghost told him no, then he would have had a valid reason for backing out on Holly. If he’d wanted it. Turned out, he only felt relief. He didn’t want out of his commitment to Holly. In fact, now that he was free, all he really wanted was to get to her.

“I’ll have my cell, if you need to reach me.”

“Sure.” Ghost gave him an absent wave. To the secretary, he said, “Is this your handwriting here?”

“Y-yes, sir,” she stammered, taking a tentative step toward him.

Michael turned and stepped out into the bright afternoon sunshine, feeling like a great weight had slid off his shoulders.

He might be nervous, later, when he had to lie to his club, pretend he had no idea what had happened to Abraham, Jacob and Dewey Jessup. But for now, all he felt was a sweeping exuberance. Like the wings down his shoulders might actually lift, and carry him the distance to the demons that needed slaying.

Ten

Dewey lingered out in the street for hours, long after the Lean Dogs’ old ladies were gone, long after night had fallen, and he was nothing but a slinking shadow against the backdrop of lit windows across the way.

Holly had progressed from a point of mindless shaking to a semi-stable state of deep-breathing and stiff-smiling her way through her shift. Dewey wasn’t as dangerous as the other two. Dewey was the informer, the squealer, the watcher. They’d figured out, somehow, that she must work here, and now they were setting up a vigil, waiting on her. Carly had been a stupid mistake. They would be more careful now.

When Michael came in, she released an audible sigh of relief. The sight of him crossing the boards was like watching the sun come up. He illuminated her world, pushed the darkness back, made it possible to breathe properly.

Holly went to him right away, empty-handed. There was no need for pretense anymore.

As she slid into the booth, his eyes came to her face and she watched him detect the panic in her, the way his expression became grim, his jaw tight. To anyone else, the changes in his face would have been impossible to notice; she knew its little movements so well by now that she recognized the strong reaction in him. He sensed the fear in her, and it brought a radiant, animal light to his hazel eyes that left her shivering.

“What?” he asked, elbows propping on the table, head thrusting toward her beneath the lamp. He was at complete attention.

Holly had to wet her lips before she could speak. Her mouth had become cardboard during her afternoon of constant stress. “Dewey,” she whispered. “He’s been outside on the sidewalk all day. Waiting.”

Michael tossed a fast, feral glance over his shoulder, toward the door. “Dark hair? Big ears?”

She nodded.

His lips pressed together, turning white. His eyes shifted away from her and across the bar, over the tables and patrons and beer-sign bedecked walls.

“I don’t think he can see through the windows,” she said. “They’re so dark. And I think, if he’d caught sight of me…”

“He’d have come in here,” Michael finished in a tight voice. He sent her a sudden, pointed look. “Or called for backup.”

“Yeah.” Her throat tightened and it was hard to swallow. “He was never very useful for anything. Abraham and Jacob must have dumped him off, so he could keep watch.”

Michael took a deep breath and seemed to collect himself, closing off the visible emotions so he seemed like his normal, closely-guarded self. “Okay, so here’s what we’ll do…”

A sharp gust of frigid air passed across her bare legs. It rustled paper napkins to the floor and drew startled, unhappy exclamations from the female patrons.

Someone had opened the door.

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