Betrayer, page 29
part #3 of The Shining Ones Series
Published by The Small Book Press
Copyright © Shawnee Small, 2017
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For Hazel -
You’ll always be my Daisy.
1
The greasy-bearded guy with a pencil stuck behind his ear acted like I’d spoken to him in Russian. It was not the first time I’d seen this look in what was turning out to be the longest week of my life. Crushing the printer paper in my hand, I took a cleansing breath, plastering a smile back on my face. A bright, tight smile.
“The order clearly states that we were expecting two hundred and fifty cloth napkins, not ten thousand paper ones. Look around you.” I waved my arm around the newly renovated dining space. “Do you think this restaurant uses paper anything?”
Gleaming in the sunlight were small neat rows of brand-new gunmetal chairs tucked under a dozen or so butcher-block tables. The recently whitewashed brick made the restaurant feel vintage yet clean, as did the old-fashioned filament bulbs which were suspended in pairs above the tables. It was impossible to tell that the expensive, trendy space had once housed a Chinese takeaway, a place my friend Amanda had worked at. She’d been murdered only six months ago, but it felt like a lifetime.
“Ma’am, I’m just the delivery guy. I understand that there may be a—”
I put my hand up to stop him.
“Fine, let’s agree to disagree,” I replied through my clenched smile, pushing up the sleeves on my long t-shirt. I stalked over and wrenched the dolly from his hands before he could put up too much of a fight and wheeled it toward the front door. His complexion deepened to an interesting shade of red to match the smattering of acne that brushed across his nose. His eyebrows twitched.
“Now, lady, just wait—”
But my patience had hit rock bottom. After weeks of little sleep, lots of questioning from the police about Arthur, and enough nightmares to keep a battalion of soldiers up for a year, I was done dealing with this guy.
“Unless you want me to run you over with this dolly,” I growled, “I suggest you get out of my way.” He didn’t have to be told twice as I rushed out the door and onto the ramp of the truck, smashing the button to raise the lift gate. When the whole thing shuddered to a stop at the top, I shoved the dolly full of cheap paper napkins into the truck’s trailer. With a squeak and a clatter, the dolly fell on its side like a dying antelope in the hot African sun.
Oh well.
Jumping off the gate with a grunt, I pressed the unsigned receipt to the bearded man’s chest with a hard thump. “See? That wasn’t hard.”
He stood speechless on the sidewalk for less than thirty seconds before storming to the front of the truck and slamming the driver’s door. The squeal of his wheels didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would.
I sighed, pushing my blonde bangs back out of my eyes, gazing at the ocean in the distance. Haylee Jane, Birdie, Katie…Paddy’s Bar and Grill. God, I missed my friends. I missed my job. And I almost missed Stevie except he fired me.
So here I was at Rockfish, working for my father, Joe, who was over the moon about it. It’d be the first thing we’d done as a duo in my entire life since he’d been absent for most of it. But I needed a job. Money was not optional for me like it was for my seraphic boyfriend, Adam.
No, really. Not human.
Drifting back into the restaurant, I’d just pulled out a chair and collapsed when said celestial creature breezed through the glass door.
“Oh, hey, I wasn’t expecting you.” I waved him in, blowing a piece of bang out of my face with a giant puff.
Clad in straight-leg jeans and an untucked charcoal dress shirt, his tall, thin frame glided across the lacquered hardwood floor as if he walked on air. He didn’t, of course, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t do other things. Otherworldly things like manipulating time and space. Haylee Jane would’ve called it voodoo if she knew what he was. But she didn’t know. None of my friends knew Adam “Brightstar” Walker was an angel. Except Katie Fitzpatrick. She’d been exposed to his secrets. Which was a problem.
Adam bent down and planted a kiss on the top of my head. “I wanted to see how you were doing,” he murmured in his lilting British accent. His hand gently squeezed my shoulder, his chocolate eyes full of concern. “Still tired?”
I nodded. The ever present nightmares were keeping me up at night even with Adam staying over. I kept seeing Jeremiah plunging the poker into Arthur’s chest, always a second too late to do anything about it. My poor friend Arthur. Gone. Like Amanda. Both murdered by the angel Jeremiah Turnstar.
Being my friend was a dangerous business.
Adam took the seat across from me and frowned. He didn’t need to ask how I was doing. He could feel it through our emotional bond. It was a side effect of part of his soul living inside of me. The good news was that the seizures and episodes I’d been experiencing as a result seemed to have stopped. For now.
He reached over and rubbed his thumb across the top of my knuckles, his eyes focused on mine as a wisp of chestnut-brown hair fell across his forehead. I gave him a tired smile. “I’m good, really. I’ll be happy when the restaurant opens and I’m back into a routine. Have you had any news?”
Adam’s reaction was immediate. His thumb froze over my pinkie knuckle, the glimmer of a grimace stuck to the side of his sultry mouth. He didn’t speak right away. His silence was all the answer I needed.
“So there’s been nothing from the Elohim? Maybe setting off the deus ex machina didn’t alert the others, maybe—”
He withdrew his hand and shook his head. “My kind will come.”
Adam raked his hand over his face then pinched the bridge of his narrow nose. The unconscious gesture reminded me of Arthur, making my heart ache. An unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach made me want to turn away from him, but our attraction was stronger. I watched Adam stare at me as he reached out to caress my cheek.
“If I could have saved Arthur, I would have done so.” Adam sighed. “There was no time.”
His words didn’t make the uneasiness go away.
Arthur had made the ultimate sacrifice when he’d activated the deus ex machina, sending the killer angel, Jeremiah, to the Dark Helix, a place where nothing escaped. Arthur had given his life to save mine, and in return, Adam framed him for the Tybee Ripper murders. The lingering indignation I felt over it was a wedge between us, even as Adam sat gazing at me.
“I know,” I replied, looking away from him finally. It didn’t escape his notice that I pulled back from the table, pulled back from him, yet he said nothing. He knew where my thoughts were, and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. I wasn’t ready to let go of that resentment quite yet, and that made it harder than it had to be between us.
“How are things with Katie?” he asked suddenly.
Ah yes, Katie.
Katie had been a prisoner on Jekyll Island, too. She’d watched as Jeremiah tortured me, had seen me healing too quickly. Worse, Jeremiah had divulged his angel nature to her before he’d been banished to the Dark Helix. She was now a liability. A human complication that no one needed, but especially not the Elohim. And I was her human handler. Or at least meant to be.
I snorted.
Adam raised an eyebrow, saying nothing further, but it still provoked me to cross my arms. “It was never going to be easy to keep her in check,” I said, twitching my foot. If my tone was defensive, he ignored it. “I mean, even normal Katie is obnoxious Katie. Now…” I paused, trying to figure out how to minimize the damage. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure out how to manage her.” Adam started to speak, but I shushed him. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Or I will.”
Three words. Three syllables hanging in the balance between us, but his clinical detachment made something in my stomach lurch. My chair skidded across the wooden floor with a screech as I stood too quickly, my hands clenched by my sides.
“You promised she wouldn’t be hurt.” Katie was not only my friend but also my best friend Birdie’s girlfriend. If something happened to her, I didn’t know what Birdie would do.
“Calm down, Poesy.” Adam stood and came around to my side of the table. “I will not harm her. I told you I would not, but she must be contained. There are other ways to do that without forfeiting her life. I would always ensure she lived comfortably.”
“You can’t just snatch her up and put her away in some castle tower.” I reached for his arm and shook him gently. Could I appeal to his softer side? Angels lacked compassion, but mine didn’t, not with part of him in me. “She has a life, friends, loved ones. What sort of life would it be if she lost all of that? What if it was me?”
He took another step toward me, forcing my chin up with his finger, an unreadable look on his face, but I wasn’t stupid. “Poesy, listen t
He was right, and it made me feel guilty. Jeremiah had turned out to be a traitor, Arthur was dead, and no other angel was going to help us, because it would mean putting themselves at risk. Our relationship was forbidden and an instant death sentence if someone should find us together, even if we weren’t together in a carnal sense. Adam would never have sex with me, given the possible catastrophic outcome. But that didn’t mean we weren’t still in danger.
“I’m sorry, but I—” My words stammered to a stop, my throat closing up with emotion. How could I explain how I was feeling? How could I get through to him? My nerves were strung as tight as they’d go. “I can’t cope with Katie becoming another casualty, Adam,” I finally blurted out. “I just can’t.” Adam let go of my chin, his hands dropping to his sides.
“Fine,” he conceded, running both hands through his hair and sighing. “Talk to her, Poesy, but this cannot be dragged out. Katie will be the least of our worries shortly.”
I exhaled long and slow, wishing my heartbeat would slow back down.
“Why doesn’t that give me comfort?” I asked.
Adam kissed the top of my head and started for the door. “Because I never said it would.”
***
As I got out of my car and made my way to Birdie’s front door, I was reminded of Adam’s warning. I wasn’t doing us any favors by putting off a long and awkward conversation with Katie. That much was clear from Adam’s reaction, and yet I was desperate to keep her out of it. Katie had pretty much moved into Birdie’s since the incident on Jekyll Island. I only had to knock once before the door swung wide, a slightly disheveled Birdie standing in a black t-shirt and jeans, his feet bare.
He looked tired, his beautiful blue eyes slightly lackluster, his brown, shaggy hair ruffled like he’d just woken up, but it didn’t stop him from ushering me in. He held the door open for me as I brushed past him. For once, I was hoping Katie was home from work.
“Hey, Poe, what’s up?” he asked, after quickly embracing me, then letting go.
“Is Katie here?” I asked, feeling awkward as hell.
He shook his head. “No, not yet, but she should be home soon. You wanna wait for her?” he asked before rubbing the back of his neck.
His eyes captured mine and for a minute, I wanted to blurt out everything, tell him about angels and time shifting and all the wondrous yet deadly things that I’d encountered in such a short time. But I didn’t. In fact, now that I was at Birdie’s and Katie wasn’t there, I didn’t know what to say. I glanced around his apartment.
It was obvious that a woman was spending time here. Gone were the wet towels on the back of the recliner, the leftover pizza boxes in the kitchen, and the clutter of videogames. New bright-red throw pillows had sprouted from the end of Birdie’s sofa like angry ears, and a knitted gray throw sat neatly folded on its leather back. There was also the unmistakable smell of potpourri, something like gardenias mixed with lemons. The walls were bare of Birdie’s posters, the only remaining wall art a painting I’d done. An early version of Birdie with Daisy. The room had been emasculated. I stared at my painting, trying to shake off my funk.
“Katie has done a number on this place. I’m glad to see I’ve made the cut.” I tilted my head toward my picture. His eyes were still on mine, but Birdie seemed uncomfortable with my remark and rubbed the back of his neck again. When had that become a nervous habit?
“Yeah, you women wanna change everything,” he muttered, glancing at the painting before turning back to me. “But there are still some things that are sacred. Luckily, it’s all just packed up in a box in the hallway closet. Can I get you anything?” His voice was gaining volume as his confidence returned.
“No, I’m okay, actually, but thanks.” I still stood inside of the apartment’s threshold. Neither of us had made a move, and while before I would’ve happily helped myself to the sofa without a second thought, Katie’s mark on Birdie’s apartment made me more hesitant. This was their space now. “Is it okay if I sit?”
Birdie started as if he’d just broken from a trance, the reddening of his cheeks obvious as he gave me an apologetic shrug, his shaggy hair hiding half his face. “Yeah, sorry, you don’t need to ask. You’re always welcome here.”
Yes, but was I? Why was this so awkward? I finally walked over to the couch, taking a seat toward one end, wondering how to break the tension that still sat between us like a heavy weight.
“Well, you know, I can’t help but be curious,” I said, twirling a tassel on the gray throw. Its smooth, silky texture felt nice between my fingers, almost comforting. “How’s Paddy’s? Give me the four-one-one because I’m dying to know if Stevie has lost his mind.” Paddy’s had been my home away from home for six years, and I’d been part of the glue holding the bar together. To have it taken away had been rough. But it probably hadn’t been easy on Stevie either.
Birdie gave me a mischievous grin. “Oh, I bet you can use your imagination on that one. Let’s just say that Stevie’s lifespan has probably been shortened by a few years already.” Birdie made his way over and dropped down beside me, propping his bare feet up on the coffee table. He brushed a wisp of hair out of his face, the grin still lingering. “I’m not gonna lie. Stevie’s about as relaxed as a snowman in a sauna. He loses his shit on a daily basis, and we’ve all learned to get out of his way real quick.”
“Isn’t that normal Stevie? That’s not good gossip.” I reached over and patted Birdie’s shoulder, just happy to be hanging out on the couch like we used to.
Birdie shook his head, then sighed. “Yes and no. I mean it’s like regular Stevie amped up on speed. None of us can get anything right. As it stands, Katie gets the brunt of it, which means that I have to deal with an upset girlfriend on an almost daily basis, too.”
Ouch. My guilt meter went off. I grabbed his hand and squeezed. “I didn’t mean to make it harder on you guys, but he was right to fire me. I screwed up one too many times, and I accept that. It will get better once he hires someone else.”
Birdie looked at me and tightened his grip. His eyes held mine, and I knew what was coming next. I’d practically walked us into the conversation even though the Jekyll Island incident was the last thing I wanted to talk about with him.
“First off, you were saving Katie. That’s hardly a crime. Hell, you should’ve gotten a medal.” He pulled my hand into his lap, not letting go, as if I’d get up and scuttle out the apartment door. “Secondly, I know you’re avoiding talking about it and this Arthur guy.” His eyes refused to budge from mine. “But Poe, I need to know. Katie isn’t talking either, and I can’t just let it go. I need to know what happened.”
My hand went limp in his grip. The lie on my lips felt slimy and bitter, making me almost choke. “It’s not easy for me to talk about what happened, Birdie. I was foolish and rash and impulsive. Arthur wasn’t like anyone else on this island, and I was curious about him. Not in a million years would I’ve expected him to turn out to be the Tybee Ripper.”
My poor Arthur, the villain everyone needed so they could sleep at night. Everyone but me. It was so wrong.
He looked at me, uncertainty etched into the tired lines of his face. “You didn’t suspect for one minute he wasn’t who he said he was? There were no signs, no indicators he was a fucked-up psycho? I don’t get it. You’re always so cautious. I can’t believe you didn’t sense something wrong with him.”
I couldn’t stand the intimacy of his hand touching mine any longer and pulled out of his grasp. Why was lying so hard? Unable to look at him, I stared at the painting of him and Daisy. A happier time. A more carefree time when we were younger and vibrant and full of ourselves. We would never be that way again. I would never be that way again. The sadness washed over me. Our innocence had been eroded away by all that happened in such a short period of time.
Still averting my gaze, I gave Birdie the closest thing I could to the truth. “I’ve gone over it hundreds of times in my head to see if there is something I would’ve done differently, but it comes down to the same thing. You were gone, Adam and I were having issues, and I just wanted to feel special. And Arthur gave me that. He was interested in me, a waitress on a no-name island with nothing to recommend her. I needed to feel important to someone. That’s the truth.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and kept my tears in check, the loss of Arthur still like a barbed thorn in my chest.
