“Adrian, what did you do while I was gone?”

Ad blinked once. Twice. And then an ill feeling washed over him. “This is a dream.”

“No, it’s not. Nigel went to the Creator and begged for my life. Something about Jim calling in a favor for getting the archangel out of Purgatory? What’s been happening—and, oh, God, you’re hurt. Your eye—”

Adrian opened his mouth and screamed his guts out.

As Jim drove back to the house from downtown, he had to crank the heater on account of all the nakey he had going on. Next to him, Sissy was silent and staring out the windshield like maybe she was in replay mode. He was likewise distracted—although he was doing a brain cramp on what was still ahead of them, as opposed to what had just happened.

Oh, God, he didn’t know how he was going to get through it. And he wasn’t talking about the next and final round.

Hell, he couldn’t even feel the hah-gotcha that should have come with making Devina lose this one. Didn’t dwell on the thank-fucking-God that he’d not lost everything to the demon. Wasn’t able to even consider strategy for the final/final he was about to go into.

All he could focus on was Sissy and getting her clean: There was no winning this war if she couldn’t go to Heaven.

Turning into the old mansion’s driveway, he went all the way to the back and parked in front of the detached garage. And when he got out, he did the whole cup-his-manhood thing as he went around and opened Sissy’s door for her.

“Sorry about this,” he muttered as they walked toward the house together.

“About what?”

He opened the way into the kitchen and held the door for her, standing there like a piker with his bare ass propping the cold wood wide and his hands over his cock and balls.

Someday, he vowed. Someday he was going to give her a piece of normal.

“Everything at this point,” he replied. “I’m sorry for fucking everything.”

The light fixture over the four-top had been left on and that gave her an awful lot of him to see, unfortunately. Not that she was checking him out or anything—he just felt like it would have been so much better for him to have pants on. A loincloth. A frickin’ napkin over his privates.

Head to bed. That was the only thing he was thinking of—

Sissy stopped in the doorway that led into the hall, blocking the way. “What else,” she demanded.

“I’m sorry?”

“There’s something else here.” She motioned back and forth in the air between them. “And whatever it is, you need to be honest with me. ’Cause what’s doing me in is the fact that I can feel there’s something wrong, and in the absence of knowing what it is, my head is coughing up all kinds of bad things.”

Jim cursed and let his head fall back. Ironically, that pointed his eyes toward an old light fixture that had been built in the shape of a three-dimensional star.

“You’re scaring me,” she said roughly.

“Do you mind if I put some clothes on?”

“Yes, because no offense, I’m enjoying the view even with all this crap going on.”

He had to smile at her. He couldn’t stop himself.

“You’re blushing,” she murmured.

“Am I?” He shook his head. “Didn’t know I could.”

“Now stop deflecting.”

“Sissy, I—”

The scream that filtered down from above was like a bomb going off, and Jim sprang into action, beating feet around Sissy and racing for the front of the house. When there was no smell of smoke, and no other sounds, he flew up the stairs, wondering what in the hell was going on.

“Adrian!” he barked. “Ad!”

Shoving open the door to the angel’s bedroom, he found no one around, so he hit the attic stairs, tearing up them two at a time.

As he rounded the top of the staircase, he skidded to a halt. Adrian was sprawled on the floorboards, back against a trunk, peepers showing so much white, he looked like he had egg slices for eyeballs. And across from him, Eddie was sitting up, the wrapping off his head, the rest of his body still pulling a mummy.

The two angels looked at him—and both did a double take. Which, considering the Lucy-I’m-home stunt Eddie had just pulled, was really saying something.

“Oh, hey, Eddie,” Jim said. And then he remembered he was naked.

As he re-cupped himself, Sissy came up the stairs behind him. “Oh, my God,” she whispered.

Eddie’s mouth fell open as he saw Sissy. And then he turned back to Adrian and demanded, “What the fuck has been going on since I’ve been gone?”

Chapter Thirty-one

Eddie Blackhawk was not the kind of angel to get his feathers ruffled very easily. But come on. He’d been stuck in the prison of his dead body, his soul effectively trapped and conscious in a cell with no key—when—surprise!—the Creator decided to grant a rare reprieve. After which he’d gone through something like electric shock therapy to rise to the surface of life once again. Only to find that his best friend had been in a car accident and Jim Heron was evidently getting really fucking naked … with the girl from Devina’s bathtub.

That’ll teach him to die. Yup. Not pulling that shit again, because look what happened.

And not one of the three of them was talking.

“Will somebody here please give me a clue,” he demanded. “I mean, how long have I been gone? Where are we in the war? And, Jim, what the hell were you thinking! You can’t go to Purgatory! I never would have let you—”

Abruptly, he realized he hadn’t been properly introduced to the lady. He lifted one of his sheet-wrapped paws to the female. “Hi, I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“Ah … nice to meet you,” she said. Then indicated her chest. “I’m Sissy. Sissy Barten. I was—”

“Oh, I know. And I’m so sorry you got mixed up with this stuff.”

“Me, too.” Except then she glanced over at Jim. “It hasn’t been all bad, though—”

“What the fuck is this!” Ad exploded. “I don’t dream about you people, okay? Like, ever. Never seen Jim. No Sissy. And no frickin’ Eddie. So can I just wake up—”

“Not a dream—”

“—is reality.”

“—totally real.”

As Ad got three answers, all of which backed each other up, he seemed to lose his train of thought. Then he cursed and choked out, “This is really cruel. This is … torture.”

Eddie took a deep breath and looked at his oldest, dearest friend. Maybe it was good that there was some chaos to deal with—otherwise, he’d probably be getting really emotional, too. “It is me, Ad. I’m back. I’m right here.”

The other angel put his head in his hands again and started to shake all over—and it was impossible not to go to him. Using his arms, Eddie dragged his bound body across the rough floor and all but fell on the guy. Shifting Adrian into his lap, he ducked his own head as his best friend began to weep.

They each said things, things that Eddie wouldn’t be able to remember later. But the words didn’t matter. They both had the sense that the gears that had been skipping were once again locked in, that life had by some miracle resumed its normal course, that the mountain that had been too high, and the valley that had been too deep, and the river that had been too wide … had all been climbed and crossed and swum.

He was vaguely aware of Jim and Sissy ducking out like they wanted to be discreet, and he appreciated that. It wasn’t because he was embarrassed to show emotion—more that he knew that Ad would have hated to have any witnesses to this.

Sometimes in life, all you had was your pride—and you were so far down the hole, you couldn’t even safeguard that without a little help.

Besides, Eddie was right there with the guy. It had been agony to be separated, and blind, and mute, immobilized in that body—hell, all he’d been able to do to help was rejuvenate the house, sending energy out to reverse the entropy that had so viciously attacked the place.

But he was back—and he had to know where they stood.

Like Ad read his mind, the guy shoved himself away and wiped his face on the T-shirt he was wearing. “You’ve never lied to me.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Are you real? And know that even in my dreams—you wouldn’t lie to me.”

“I am.” Eddie reached up and found a loose tail end of the wrappings. With big loops over his head, he started to unravel what was around his neck and chest. “As far as I know, I am back.”

Adrian took a deep breath and sighed it out. “I’m not ready to believe you yet, but, man, that is so the right answer.”

Eddie froze in mid-circle. “Matthias. Oh, my God, you took—”

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

“It’s the eye. The bad leg. But Matthias went to Devina—so how did you—”

“He came back. Do-over. The bitch kept the flag, but Jim got another shot at the guy. We won.”

“Are we ahead?”

“One behind—unless…” Ad glanced over to the head of the stairs. “Unless Jim has good news or something—that isn’t tied to his love life.”

“Is he … are they—”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” Eddie cleared his throat. “Oh, okay.”

Ad glanced over and smiled a little. “You always were a straight arrow.”

“To be fair, the last time I saw her, she was hanging dead upside down over a bathtub.”

“True ’nuff.”

“How’d Jim get her out of Hell?”

“Long story, but it got ugly. If we lose this? It’s because of Sissy—and not because she does anything wrong. Jim’s different around her, and not in a way that necessarily helps us.”

Eddie continued until his chest was free. “You got a knife?”

“Here.” Ad moved to one side and sucked in hard, like the shift of weight hurt. Then he handed over a crystal dagger. “Compliments of the chef.”

The weapon was so sharp, Eddie had to be careful or risk cutting his skin, but the good news was that the wrappings just fell off. He left some of the shit around his hips. They already had one flasher in the house; two would be overkill.

“I knew,” he said as he offered the dagger back to his buddy.

“Knew what?”

“That you slept up here with me. I could hear you. I really appreciated it—it was the only thing that kept me from losing my mind.”

Ad accepted the weapon and cleared his throat. “Yeah, well. Where else would I be?”

Downstairs in the kitchen, Jim watched while Sissy put on some coffee and got out a box of Duncan Hines chocolate cake mix.

“Don’t judge,” she said as she put the thing on the counter and started grabbing eggs and oil from the fridge and cupboards. “I cook when I’m uptight.”

“I got no problem with it.” Shoving the long sleeves of his sweatshirt up, he lit a cigarette and blew out a column of smoke. “Can I just say this? The best thing about being immortal is that I don’t have cancer-stick guilt anymore—”

“Can I get pregnant?”

The second her words sank in, Jim embarked on a happy cruise through pulmonary arrest, the coughing fit taking over his entire body. When he finally recovered enough to draw oxygen into his immortal lungs, he …

Really didn’t know what the fuck to say.

“You finished?” she asked. “Because I think your liver is over here on the floor.”

She turned back around, cracked three eggs into the white-and-blue bowl she was using, and then got to filling a measuring cup full of oil.

“Well?” she said as she poured that in and then headed for the sink for some water. “Can I?”

“I have no idea. I wasn’t thinking like that—it just never dawned on me.”

“Yeah. I wasn’t thinking about it either. But is that why you looked so weird on the way home?”

No, he thought. Although now I have an all-new and exciting reason to freak out.

“We don’t have to—you know, have sex again,” he said. And then took a long drag.

She glanced over her shoulder. “No. Not going to bed with you would be criminal.”

Making a fist, he coughed into his hand. “Ah, maybe I’ll get some condoms, though.”

“Is there anyone who could tell us…”

“Tell you what?”

Jim shifted in his chair as Eddie came to a halt in the doorway from the front hall. Dayum, he’d forgotten how big the guy was, how red his eyes were, how long that braid down his back was.

And all he could think of was … it was so worth it. Going over there, bringing Nigel back—even with the risks, it was so worth it just to see the favor he’d asked of the archangel up and walking around.

Abruptly, Ad stepped around his buddy and limped over to the table, the expression on his face a tangled, tortured mess.

In the next moment, Jim was in Adrian’s arms, the other angel having lifted him out of his chair in a bear hug that was so strong, Jim had to wonder if he was going to end up with a spinal condition afterward.

But he got it. He understood exactly the words that were being said through the contact. “You’re welcome,” Jim said roughly. “And you’da done the same for me.”

Ad stayed there for the longest time, because he was a guy who couldn’t express feelings well, especially not ones this big. And then he stepped back, wiped his face on the bottom of his shirt, and cleared his throat.