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“Will you get real.”
“Hey, do you remember”—the angel finally glanced over—“when Hershey’s wrappers were made of tinfoil and proper paper labels? Now everything is so disposable.”
“Whatever, the old kind weren’t keepsakes, either.” The “oh, pulease” went unspoken, but was in the tone. “And I’m done. We’ve been chasing after that angel for how long now? I’m ready for a vacation, and that only happens if we—”
“Yup, it’s been three years. Three hundred and sixty-five times three—”
“What a relief that you can still do math—”
“—is one thousand eighty-five days.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Guess not. It’s ninety-five. One thousand ninety-five.”
“You ever wonder, why now?” Ad murmured. “The Creator knows all, sees all, and we’ve been banging around Caldwell for however much time? Suddenly, we’re led right to this group of vampires, where Lassiter’s been putting his feet up—and at least initially, they were as confused about where he was as we were.”
“To be fair, that’s probably because that angel has never had a sense of direction,” Eddie muttered.
“I think we’re supposed to be here.”
“Yeah, to take Lassiter back. That’s our fuc—” He stopped himself. “Frickin’ job.”
Ad gestured with his chocolate. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you one thousand and whatever times. Fuck. It’s FUCK. I don’t get this no-swearing thing.”
“Well, I did call Devina a cunt.”
Ad perked up, like someone had told him Santa was real. “You did? When?”
“Back at that travel agency. To her face.”
“Look at you.” Ad fanned next to his eyes. “I’m getting misty with pride over here.”
“You’re weird.”
“I’m not a grown-ass angel going church lady with the syllables.” Ad shook his head, the piercings that ran up his ears glinting in the overhead light. “And I’m telling you, we’re here for a different reason—”
“The Creator was very clear—”
“—and we need to chill until we find out what it is—”
“—about what He wanted us to—”
The electricity began to flicker, the fixtures on the ceiling blinking on and off, the TV going dark and then rebooting. And then it all went pitch black.
“Like I said,” Ad muttered dryly, all disembodied, “I think we need to stick around.”
Eddie opened his mouth to point out that none of this was their problem—
The sonic boom! reverberated through the break room, loud enough to stop the argument in its tracks, the energy shock waves so great that they rattled the door into the corridor.
Eddie got to his feet so fast his chair went flying, and as he put his hands forward, he was ready to fend off an attack—he didn’t know from what, but given the cast of characters? Could be anyone from the Creator Himself to Elon-frickin’-Musk.
Silence.
And then the lights came back on in a flicker.
Ad was right where he’d been, sitting there with his half-eaten chocolate bar and all those wrappers. “Wow. Freaky.”
As he threw another square into his pie hole and went back to staring at the TV, there was a temptation to smack him upside the head just on principle.
“I do not trust that female,” Eddie snapped.
“That’s okay.” Ad shrugged as he chewed. “It’s not like you’re going to date her.”
* * *
“Wait, before you go. Are you sure Rahvyn is all right? Does she need Jane?”
Down the corridor in George’s exam room, Lassiter repositioned his female in his arms and looked over his shoulder at Beth. The Queen had risen out of her chair with her son, and was looking like she wished she could do anything to help.
“I think we’re okay,” he said, even though he had no idea whether that was true or not.
Rahvyn still hadn’t come around properly, her head lolling in the crook of his arm, her eyes roaming and seemingly unable to focus.
The dog, on the other hand, was a rock-solid rebound. George was nuzzling his master’s hand and wagging his tail and trying to get up and at ’em. Wrath, meanwhile, was running his hands all over the animal, like he was trying to reassure himself that the turnaround was real—and the scent of tears surrounded the King, though nothing escaped the rims of his black wraparounds.
“What a miracle,” Lassiter said as George shoved off his master and got up on all fours.
The shake was so vigorous, blond hairs went everywhere, and then he sneezed emphatically, as if he were putting a pin in the experience and moving on.
“Yes,” Wrath said with a laugh. “It is amazing.”
The King then focused on Rahvyn. “She has saved all of us.”
As if in response, Rahvyn moaned and stretched—and Lassiter got his shit together. “I’ve got to let her rest.”
“I’ll send Doc Jane,” Wrath announced.
Lassiter made some kind of response; he didn’t know what came out of his mouth. And then he was through the door and out in the corridor. There were all kinds of members of the Brotherhood loitering around, but he didn’t look at any of them, and fortunately, none of them asked him anything. Instead, a way was parted for him, the fighters making space so he could carry Rahvyn onward. Someone even jumped ahead to open the door to the next recovery room, and he nodded his thanks—
