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“I am the spiritual successor to the Scribe Virgin—”
“And maybe you shouldn’t be. Maybe that’s why we’ve connected here and now.”
As Lassiter looked over his shoulder to the exit, like he was getting ready to use it, the side of his throat was exposed.
The bite mark was obvious.
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie muttered with exhaustion.
“Still not my name,” the angel ground out. “Never was.”
Eddie rose to his feet, and motioned for Ad to stay put. When he got a nod in response, he walked over to the other angel and reached up.
Lassiter slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me—”
Ignoring that, Eddie swept the blond-and-black hair back again. “You know why He wants you to return. And worse than hooking up with some female, you’ve been playing God, haven’t you. You’re supposed to be the eyes of the Creator, only a witness, never a participant, and that means you shouldn’t—”
The shirt-grab was right at the pecs level, and he let himself get spun around and slammed into the vending machine.
“Stay out of my fucking business—”
“So stay out of theirs!”
Slam. Slam. Slam—
The sizzling sound of an electrical malfunction was coupled with a furious blinking of the machine’s inner lights, the strobing hitting Lassiter’s furious face and making things go Claymation freeze-frame.
“You don’t know what it’s like,” the angel said hoarsely as a whirring noise played soundtrack. “Watching them suffer.”
“The hell I don’t.”
There was a momentary confusion. “So how can you sit back and do nothing.”
“Because that is not my role.” Eddie fisted the front of the angel’s scrubs because two could play that game. “And it’s not yours, either. Savior is a term of art, not a definition for what we are.”
“Or maybe you just don’t give a shit anymore.”
Things started dropping inside the vending machine, landing in a clapping rush that was easy to ignore in all the tension.
“Don’t try to get in my head,” Eddie snarled, “or pretend to know where I’ve been. Don’t fucking do that.”
“Why? Hiding something—”
Just as Eddie was about to toss something nasty back, maybe even a punch, Ad pried them apart and pushed Lassiter off to the side.
And what do you know, getting pissed at the interruption was the only thing Eddie and Lassiter had in common. They both turned on the guy.
“I told you to stay out of this—”
“You want some of this, too—”
“Fuck you both,” the other angel said. “I could give a shit about whatever you two are dick-tossing about.” He indicated the waterfall of snacks that was still happening. “This thing is throwing up its guts and I think I want a Snickers because you have one.”
For a split second, Eddie couldn’t follow. Then he realized that the machine’s motherboard was flashing an SOS as all of its corkscrews rotated at once, its wares dropping into the bin at the foot, a pile of calories dressed in colorful bags and wrappers.
Kind of a parallel for the situation.
A fucking mess.
Ad bent over, shoved his arm into the slot, and came back out. “Crap. Milky Way. Guess it’ll do.”
Leaning up against the Plexiglas window, the last of the pretzels and the M&Ms fell down as he peeled the bar with considerably more restraint than Lassiter had.
His utter lack of concern was enviable. And annoying.
“The Creator already knows we’ve found you,” Eddie said with defeat. “He knows everything.”
“Then why hasn’t He pulled me off the planet.” Lassiter cut off any argument by throwing up a stop-sign palm. “He’s all-powerful and all-knowing. So if He wants me, why is He sending the two of you. He should just manifest me home.”
“It’s our fucking job, okay? That’s all I know.”
“Hear me out,” Lassiter said. “What if you’re right, and there are no coincidences. You were supposed to find me now—after how long? Maybe He doesn’t want you to bring me home, He wants you to help me here.”
Eddie massaged the ache at the base of his neck. “I’m not interested in arguing with you about this.”
“I’m not arguing with you, I’m asking you to look at this situation in a different way. He’s all-powerful? He’d call me home. Instead, you two find me here and now. He chose to give all of us free will, and you have it. So does he.” Lassiter nodded at Ad. “So do I.”
“I’m not lying for you.”
“I’m not asking you to do that.” Lassiter glanced toward the door. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”
“I’m not negotiating on this.”
“So what are you going to do.” Lassiter put up his hands, all now-what. “I’m not going anywhere with you—are you going to drag me into the next dimension? Huh? How’s that going to work.”
“Why does everything with you have to be difficult.”
Ad bent down to the floor. “Either of you want his Snickers? This floor’s so clean, you could eat off it.”
