Black Wings Page 38

As usual, J.B.’s presence made my back teeth grind and brought all my worst instincts to the fore. “Well, J.B., I’m sure you’re distressed over the lack of properly filed reports, but I was very busy in that intersection fighting for my life. You see, this completely horrific creature called a nephilim showed up, munched on a few souls, melted a few people into taffy, and tried to take me out, too. And oh, by the way, it’s the same creature that I warned you about yesterday when I was in your office, and you ignored me completely. So, as far as I’m concerned, this mess is on your head, not mine.”

“What the f**k is a nephilim?” J.B. exploded, his face red. “Is this another one of your fairy tales about soul-eating monsters?”

“It’s not a fairy tale,” I said, rising to my feet. “It’s a nightmare the likes of which you have never known. We are on the verge of a real biblical-style apocalypse here. I don’t need you giving me crap about paperwork right now. I have to find this thing before it finds me, or else I’m going to end up just like my mother, my soul trapped inside its body forever.”

J.B. stared at me. “You’ve cracked. You’ve finally lost it. I always wondered if your mother’s death would do it, and it finally has. You’re imagining some nonexistent monster ate her up, and now you’ve killed twenty-six people in an effort to prove your wacko theories.”

“What?” I said, unreasonably hurt by his assumption. He’d known me for years. We didn’t always like each other—okay, we didn’t like each other at all—but how could J.B. think I was a murderer? “You think that I killed those people? How the hell would I be able to do that?”

“I don’t know, and the truth is, I don’t want to know. Those people died horrible deaths,” J.B. said grimly.

“I was trying to help them!”

“Right. Help them by melting their faces off.”

“If I am a murderer,” I said through gritted teeth, “don’t you think that you should be running out the door right now instead of standing in my living room making ridiculous accusations?”

From the look on J.B.’s face, I would say that the thought hadn’t occurred to him. Gabriel coughed into his fist. The cough sounded suspiciously like laughter.

J.B. visibly tried to pull himself together. “You are suspended until further notice. Any pending collections will be reassigned to other Agents.”

“You can’t suspend me solely on the merit of your asinine conclusions,” I shouted.

“I can and I will,” he said, standing up and approaching me so that we were nearly nose to nose.

“I don’t have time for this. Why can’t I make you understand that there is something horrible out there that is going to eat its way through the city until it’s stopped?”

“The only ‘something horrible’ that needs to be stopped is you,” he said.

I had actually pulled my fist back to deck him right in that smug mouth, but Gabriel’s hand closed over mine.

“Why not?” I said to him through gritted teeth.

“Because it will cause unnecessary complications,” Gabriel said softly.

I breathed hard through my nose and glared at J.B., who watched this little interchange with widened eyes.

“You have no sense of self-preservation whatsoever, do you?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” J.B. said, his eyes darting from me to Gabriel and back again.

“I don’t think you fully grasp how angry I am at you right now, and you’re standing very, very close to me.”

12

I SMILED, AND I KNEW THAT IT WAS NOT A PLEASANT smile. Somewhere deep inside, I felt a little flicker of magic, as faint as a match flame.

He finally seemed to understand, and he stepped back a few inches. As he did, I saw his expression change. He stared at me like he’d never seen me before.

“What now?” I asked.

“Your eyes,” he said, his voice half-strangled. “What happened to your eyes?”

Worried that I had manifested some new freakiness since my altercation with Ramuell, I looked at Gabriel, who said, “You have starshine in your eyes.”

“Oh, that,” I said, waving my hand in a dismissive motion.

J.B. backed away slowly, his hands up in the air like he was surrendering to the cops. “I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but you stay away from me, Black. You’re some kind of freak.”

I watched him, content to let him go and deal with the suspension later. He continued his careful path backward out of the room until something behind me made his face turn paler and he let out a yelp of surprise.

“What the hell is that thing?” he shouted, pointing at Beezle.

“Great timing, Beezle,” I said as he landed on my shoulder.

“Umm, you might not want to let J.B. leave right now,” he said in an undertone close to my ear.

“And why is that?”

“Antares and a few of his buddies are hanging out on the front lawn. They asked for, and I quote, ‘Azazel’s half-breed bitch to come forth and engage in mortal combat.’ Then they mentioned taking your entrails back to Focalor or something else of that nature.”

“You didn’t think the details were important enough to remember?” I asked. I was a little concerned for my entrails even if Beezle wasn’t.

“Frankly, demonic threats get a little boring after a while. It’s always ‘I’ll pull your beating heart out of your chest’ or ‘I’ll suck your eyeballs out of your skull.’ They haven’t had any new material in a couple of millennia,” Beezle said.