Secret Worlds (173 page)

A sigh escaped me. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

To them, I said: “Alright, folks, single file line. I need names and anything else you remember.”

Fifteen minutes later, a third of my notepad was filled with the personal information of nearly a dozen ghosts. We wouldn’t be able to help them tonight, so I sent all of them but Marianne away. Once they had gone, we walked back towards the front of the park.

“Well, that wasn’t weird,” I said, stuffing my notepad in my pocket. It was then that I noticed the rosary wasn’t in there. I paused, patting myself down but it was nowhere to be found.

Michael stopped walking when he noticed what I was doing. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I dropped the rosary back there. Wait here, I’ll be right back.” I jogged back up the trail, searching the gravel in the dim light of the lamps above me. When I reached the park bench a couple minutes later, I found it on the ground. Just as I stooped to pick it up, someone appeared in front of me.

I caught a look at his face and felt the blood drain out of mine.

“Terrell?”

My ex-boyfriend’s dark brown eyes widened to nearly epic proportions. “Jordan? What are you doing here?”

“I…I’m here for family issues. What are
you
doing here?” I asked, hating that my heartbeat had tripled in the last five seconds. Unfortunately, his good looks hadn’t faded in the least. His skin was a rich mahogany, teeth perfect and white, full lips softening his square jaw darkened by the presence of a goatee. His six-foot frame was encased in a navy suit jacket over a black shirt and blue jeans. I felt woefully unattractive in my comfortable, but unimpressive get up.

“Doctor’s conference,” Terrell said, the shock melting into a pleasant expression. “I’m here until Wednesday. Man. It’s crazy seeing you like this. How long’s it been?”

I shoved my hands in my pockets so he wouldn’t see them shaking. “Two and half years or so.”

“Sounds about right. Looks like they’ve been good to you.” A sly smile tugged at the edge of his lips. The blood in my cheeks heated up.

I shuffled momentarily, trying to regain composure. “I was just heading out of the park so…it was good seeing you.”

“Oh, come on, you’re not using that weak line on me, are you?” he said, arching an eyebrow.

I winced. “What do you want me to say?”

“Jordan, it’s been almost three years. The least you can do is let me buy you dinner so we can catch up.”

Deep inside, I felt my resolve beginning to crumble. Damn him. This man was the only person on Earth I couldn’t say no to.

“I dunno if that’s a good idea…”

He paused. “Oh, wait. Are you seeing someone…?”

I shook my head. “No, but I don’t want to make things complicated.”

“It’s dinner, not a week in Hawaii. Tomorrow night, the Dynasty, eight o’clock. Don’t be late.” With that, he flashed me another brilliant smile and kept walking. I stared after him for a long moment before turning around and returning to Michael and Marianne waiting for me. When I reached them, Michael was scanning the crowd with a slight frown on his face.

“Something wrong?”

He shook his head. “No, I just got an odd feeling all of the sudden. Ready?”

I thought about pressing him to explain what he’d felt, but decided to do it later. “Yeah. Let’s head for the Applebee’s and see if anything rings a bell for Marianne.”

It didn’t take long to get there, but luck still wasn’t on our side. The staff didn’t recall seeing anyone with her friend’s description, but they let me have all the last names that started with A. We headed back to the hotel to begin the tedious search process to see if anything turned up.

Twenty minutes on Google proved fruitless until I managed to get lucky with the eighth name on my list of potentials. The guy in the photo’s name was Jameson Micah Arlo. He’d used his middle name for the reservation. He worked at an orphanage outside the city limits. We couldn’t call to meet with him because it was after visiting hours and all the kiddies would be asleep, so we’d have to arrange a meeting tomorrow. I gave Marianne instructions to meet us tomorrow in the afternoon. Like most ghosts, she felt worried about leaving our presence while we slept, but I assured her a walk the city might help her memory return.

With a groan, I toppled over backwards on my bed, eyes dropping closed. The cool cotton of the comforter felt great. Peace at last. Not that I’d keep it that way.

“So what was with the ghost party in the park?”

“That I don’t know,” Michael said. “I’ve never seen anything like it before. I left Gabriel a voicemail asking if he’d encountered something similar.”

“I don’t suppose it’s Christ’s Return, is it?”

He let out a small chuckle. “Ah, no. Trust me, you’ll know when that happens.”

A grin touched my lips. Well, he had a point. Revelation painted a much more vivid picture of the Rapture, after all. I wasn’t the best Christian, but I did know the basics.

“Is there anything that could cause such a large collection of souls?”

Michael paused before replying. “Perhaps a holy item being discovered? Not something like the Spear—something that has more of a connection to mankind. The spear represented man’s sin. It would have to be something…purer.”

I sat up, the grin evaporating as a thought occurred to me. “And what are the odds it would appear the same time we’re in New Jersey?”

His green eyes radiated the same concern as my brown ones. “Impossible.”

A sigh escaped me. “For once, can I just have a normal week?”

Michael spared me a faint smile. “Apparently not. How ‘bout I pick out somewhere nice to go tomorrow night to make up for it?”

“Can’t. I have plans.”

Up went the angel’s eyebrows. “With whom?”

I pointedly did not look at him as I answered, choosing to sift through my suitcase for my nightclothes. “Terrell.”

“Terrell? You mean ex-boyfriend, white-picket-fence Terrell?”

“The same.”

“When’d you run into him?”

“When I went to grab the rosary in the park.”

“Oh.”

An awkward silence fell. I ignored it.

Michael took a moment before speaking again. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Funny how he echoed me having not been there when it happened. “It’s dinner, not a honeymoon in the Bahamas. Wasn’t my idea in the first place.”

“But you still agreed to go.”

I shot him a sarcastic look. “Yes, I did, Captain Obvious. Is there a problem?”

He stared back at me for a second before adopting the phoniest smile I’d ever been graced to see on this Earth. “Nothing would make me happier than to see you two together.”

I shook my head. “You’re an awful liar, Michael.”

The angel cleared his throat, seeming a bit embarrassed. “In all seriousness, I am actually thinking about your welfare. You two do have a pretty rough past.”

I gathered my clothes up, heading for the bathroom. “I’ll be fine, trust me. If I were impressed by knights in shining armor, I would have fallen for you.”

He frowned at me. “Ouch.”

I batted my eyelashes at him. “Sticks and stones, Michael. Sticks and stones.”

Something tickled down my chest. I couldn’t see it. There was cloth over my eyes—a blindfold. I should have panicked, but I felt oddly calm. I was lying on silken sheets that cradled my body as if they were alive. Weird.

The mysterious object brushed over my throat. I shivered, reaching up to undo the blindfold, but a soothing male voice stopped me.

“Not yet.”

I felt compelled to listen to him, so I lowered my arms and lay motionless. The air stirred over my face and then I felt it again—across my forehead, over my nose, past my lips. I realized after a moment that it was a feather. Its delicate ridges dipped past my collarbone and caressed the scarred flesh on my chest; a soothing gesture. Moments later, I felt the warm breath of someone’s mouth and then soft lips. The kiss lasted only seconds, but it felt longer. My mind was spinning from the simple pleasure of it.

The man withdrew. I reached up to undo the blindfold as he cupped my chin, stroking my skin. My eyes opened, focusing slowly. As they adjusted, I could see the silhouette of wings stretching wide from the man’s bare back. But there was something wrong. His wings weren’t silver but midnight black, and the tips were singed as if they had been held over a flame. The man’s face faded into view and it was one I knew very well: alabaster skin, long jet black hair, serpentine smile, and eyes so pale blue that they were almost white, making the thin pupils at the center seem even more reptilian.

Belial smiled that cold smile as he closed the inches between us. “Did you miss me, my pet?”

My lungs filled with air and I screamed.

I awoke with a jolt, panting, cold sweat dripping down my spine like icy fingers, reaching for my mouth as if I could still feel the demon’s lips.
Shit
.

I heard Michael stir in his bed, awakened by my gasping. It took him only seconds to notice I was not in good shape. He tossed back the covers and hurried to my side, his voice still gravelly from slumber.

“Jordan, what’s wrong?”

I just shook my head, still not coherent enough to talk. He reached out to touch my shoulder.

“Geez, you’re shaking.”

I swatted his hand away just as his fingertips brushed my skin. “Don’t! Don’t…touch me.”

“Alright, I won’t. Just tell me what you saw.”

I kicked the covers off my legs and walked over to the mini-fridge on the floor, wordlessly opening it. Michael spoke from behind me.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting a drink. What does it look like I’m doing?” I snapped, slamming the door shut after I found a comically small bottle of alcohol.

He stepped close to me, trying to take it out of my hands. “You don’t need it.”

“The hell I don’t,” I growled, tightening my fingers around the neck of the bottle. When he couldn’t pry it away, he grabbed my shoulders and held me still.

“Jordan, look at me.”

Finally, I stopped trying to wriggle out of his grasp and met his eyes. There wasn’t irritation or impatience in them—just concern. He spoke again, his voice quiet and measured.

“You don’t need it.”

Something painful welled up in my chest, but I ignored the sensation as best as I could. Seeing me cry once was enough. Instead, I threw up my hands.

“What do you want me to do? I can’t deal with this shit every night.”

Michael watched me before touching the side of my cheek, brushing the hair out of my eyes. “Then let me do my job.”

Gently, he took the bottle and set it on the table behind me, tugging me forward enough to wrap his arms around me. Part of me wanted to resist and argue with him more, but the other part wanted to sink into him and forget the horrible dream as quickly as possible. In the end, I just stood there—neither hurting nor helping the situation. After a few deep breaths, my heart rate slowed and the adrenaline drained out of my tired body until I was back to my normal, cantankerous self.

“I don’t think hugging me is part of your job description.”

He was tall enough that I couldn’t see his face with my own pressed to his shoulder, but I could tell he was smiling by his tone. “Last time I checked, hugging wasn’t a sin.”

A tiny smile found my lips. “Obviously you’re doing it wrong.”

Feeling admittedly better, I pushed away from him and sank back onto the bed, tugging out the loose knot I’d tied my hair up into so I could run my fingers through it. Nervous habit.

Michael sat next to me, but didn’t touch me this time. I appreciated it.

“What did you see?”

I couldn’t help but wince. “Belial.”

“It’s not the first time, is it?”

I shook my head. “Ever since the fight at the psychiatric hospital, I’ve had nightmares about him. Still, this one was much more…vivid.”

A cold shudder rolled up my spine as I thought about him kissing me, how he had manipulated me into thinking he was someone else. Bastard.

Michael let out a long breath, leaning his arms on his long legs. “I know it sounds corny but…you know I’d never let him hurt you again.”

I nodded, fingers combing through my hair until it was untangled enough to fit back in a ponytail. “I know.”

“Is there anything you want me to do?”

A thought popped into mind—something I’d forgotten about for a while—that time he and I had fallen asleep in bed together and I didn’t have nightmares that night. Somehow, his close proximity seemed to cancel my bad dreams. Why, though? Maybe I’d ask Gabriel about it.

“No,” I said out loud. “I’ll be alright.”

A tiny voice in my head whispered that I was an idiot, but I told it to go die in a fire. Our relationship had crossed so many lines at this point, and there would be no reason to keep at it. He was an archangel, for Christ’s sake, not a teddy bear.

I climbed into bed and flopped down on the pillow face up. Michael took the hint and went back to his own, hesitating before getting in.

“Good night, Jordan.”

I sighed. “Let’s hope so.”

I expected to wake up in a cold sweat, buried underneath the fluffy white comforter, but something was different. There wasn’t a damp imprint of my body on the mattress. Quite the opposite, actually. I felt warm. Inexplicably so.

There was a firm weight down my back and along my waist that seemed to keep the cold of the hotel room at bay. Even with my mind barely conscious, blind pleasure filled me. I felt…safe. Not really a familiar sensation with my lifestyle.

A contented sigh slipped past my lips. I snuggled deeper into my comfortable spot, reaching over my waist to pull the covers in tighter so I could make myself a cocoon. I touched something smooth. Not the blanket. Firmer. Confused and still mostly asleep, I tried to stretch but my heels brushed against a pair of rather large bare feet. A muscular chest met my spine, melting into it perfectly. Definitely male.

Wait, what?

My eyes flew open. I sat up in my bed to find Michael lying asleep next to me with one large arm draped across my hips.