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“Anytime you want to get to know me better,” he said with a wink, “you know where to find me.”
Cora did her best not to roll her eyes, remembering his invitation to join the women who partied at the Doghouse on the weekends. “I’ll pass.”
Bear’s deep chuckle sounded like a cascade of falling rocks. He glanced up the trail. “Where you headed?”
“To the top of the falls. My friend’s right around the bend up there, so I’d better get going before she beats me. See you later.” Cora turned and charged up the path.
“Girlie,” he called after her.
Seriously? Cora kept walking. If he thought she was going to answer to that, then he was dumber than he looked, which was really saying something. He sounded just like the Booze Dogs’ club president. Maybe Eli Shelton taught Misogyny 101 to all the new recruits. There was only so much she could take on a fine morning like this, and she was at her limit.
“Sweet cheeks,” he hollered louder.
Past her limit. Cora spun and glared at him. “You’ve got to stop with the derogatory nicknames. It’s rude and makes you sound like you escaped evolution and are still dragging your knuckles on the ground.” As far as self-defense techniques went, provoking an animal in the wild wasn’t at the top of her list, but some things couldn’t be helped. Besides, Bear wasn’t looming over her anymore, and she was a fast runner. “I mean, sweet cheeks? Really? Do you honestly think that’s an appropriate name to call a woman?”
Bear looked a little surprised and a whole lot amused. “Only when it applies, doll face. And for you...” He strained to look at her backside. “It applies.”
Cora threw her hands up and turned to go. “I’m done here.”
“Stick to the path,” Bear said sharply.
She glanced over her shoulder. All the humor in his eyes dissolved until they were cold and flat and deadly. The man who looked at her now was as scary as his namesake. She dug her heels in, bracing to run if she had to. Even though he was built like a war tank, Bear didn’t seem like a true threat to her, but she couldn’t afford to take chances.
“There are dangerous animals in these mountains, and they don’t like trespassers,” he continued in a low growl. “Would hate for a pretty thing like you to stumble into one and get hurt.” With that, he turned and lumbered down the trail, sending tiny birds fleeing from the bushes.
Cora watched him go with the uneasy feeling he wasn’t talking about black bears and bobcats.
12
LIAM PACED THE backyard of Cora’s house, doing his best to sound respectful as he addressed the fluffy white clouds overhead. “Angels, I need to speak with you, if it’s not too much to ask.” He stopped near the fence, staring into the azure sky, waiting, but the angels didn’t answer.
Blowing out a frustrated breath, he began to walk along the edge of the fence, his mind spinning in growing agitation. It never worked when he tried to summon the angels, but he only had two weeks left to complete the task they gave him, and he was desperate. He needed them now, more than ever.
Things between Cora and Finn weren’t moving fast enough. Love between two people took time, everyone knew that, but Liam didn’t have the luxury of sitting around waiting for things to progress naturally. The angels had given him extra knowledge and skills to help him navigate this world, but right now he needed something far more powerful than just one of their helpful “boosts.” He needed an actual miracle. Unfortunately, they didn’t seem inclined to come to his aid. Maybe if he called them by their names? In old Irish folklore, a name held power. It was worth a try.
“Agon?” Liam leaned a shoulder against the fence, praying they’d take pity on him. “Samael? I need help.” He fought to remain patient, but after fifteen minutes of hearing nothing but the whoosh of occasional cars driving by and the melodious chatter of birds in the trees, he thumped the fence with his fist. Had they deserted him, then?
Marching back inside, Liam flopped on the living room sofa, stuck with the bitter reality that he was on his own without their guidance. Ranting about his predicament wouldn’t get him anywhere. He needed a plan. His gaze roamed over the bookshelves filled with Cora’s favorite books. The blank, flat-screen TV that sat on a console against the wall. The fireplace mantel with the small clock that chimed on the hour. He took comfort in the cozy room, letting the casual, familiar atmosphere ease his mind. When he’d first visited Cora’s house, he’d found it strange and opulent, with its bouncy, overstuffed furniture, plush wall-to-wall carpeting, and mysterious modern appliances. The refrigerator alone seemed like a gold mine, stocked with enough food to feed an entire family. He’d enjoyed some of the modern conveniences right away, and balked at others. At first, he’d been reticent to use the dishwasher and clothes machine and lawn mower, finding the loud machines and complex mechanisms daunting, but eventually he grew comfortable with them. He’d learned a lot since then. Now, the place didn’t feel unusual at all. It just felt like...home. But no matter how comfortable he felt living there with Cora, the reality was that the house—the life—none of it was his, and it never would be.
With a groan, Liam rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes, wondering how he was going to get out of the mess he’d made. The angels had ignored him before, so this was nothing new, but their neglect seemed to cut deeper now. He could feel the urgent press of time embedded under his skin like a sharp splinter. No matter how much he wished he could ignore it, he couldn’t escape the painful fact that time was running out. He had only two weeks left in this blasted life, and he had to make it count.
Cora’s cat, Angel, meowed, slinking into the room to curl his body around Liam’s ankle.
“Well, at least one angel has deigned to grace me with a visit.” He scooped up the cat and brought them face-to-face. “I don’t suppose you could hunt down a miracle, drag it back home, and drop it at my feet to show your appreciation?”
The cat twitched an ear and glanced away.
“No. I thought not, you mangy beast,” he said affectionately. “What good are you to me, then?”
Angel bumped Liam’s face with the top of his furry head and began to purr.
“Aye, I suppose there is that.” Liam smoothed the cat’s sleek fur. He never would’ve admitted such a thing in his old life, never even imagined it, but there was something both humbling and extraordinarily comforting about being on the receiving end of such dedicated feline devotion.
He heard the garage door open and gently set Angel on the sofa. Then he began to spin up a plan. If the angels weren’t going to help him anymore, fine. He would just have to redouble his efforts on his own.
When Cora walked into the house, she looked flushed from her hike, but her mouth was pressed tight, and her expression was shuttered. She usually came back energized and happy after a workout, but today something seemed off.
“There you are,” Liam said from his spot on the sofa. “Did you have a good run?”
