Carlos’s superiors had insisted they bring Chuy along when they came up from Mexico. It wasn’t as if Paco didn’t appreciate the muscle. But it would’ve been nice, at least, if the guy would talk about anything. Prison could turn a chatty man quiet, but Chuy’s silence was just creepy.
Just as well for now, Paco decided. Following the Lexus through its confusing, steep downhill route required concentration. There were one-way streets, drivers who were lost or just stupid, and pedestrians who walked against the lights…just like the blonde waitress from back at the restaurant, who crossed the street while looking right at Paco and Chuy.
Wait, what?! Paco thought. He hit the brakes and swerved just enough to miss her.
Rachel whipped a pair of kitchen knives out from behind her back. She spun around in a pirouette, carving with one knife into the rolling front tire of the SUV, then slashing with the other knife against the rear tire as it followed past her.
The tires burst instantly. Panicked, Paco turned the wheel entirely the wrong way. The SUV hurtled through the intersection, twisting to the side before suddenly overturning. It slid several more yards before coming to a stop in the middle of the street.
Given their predicament, Paco and Chuy completely missed Rachel’s touchdown dance.
* * *
“…and I’ll just have the light garden salad,” Lydia finished dismissively. The waiter picked up the menus, thanking her, but Lydia paid no attention. She remained lost in thought until Carlos’s cell phone rang.
“It’s the guys,” he explained.
Lydia nodded, still chewing on the implications of the encounter. The bitch had left Belial’s service; that much was clear from her “divorce” comment. But Belial would not have cast out a crown jewel like Lorelei. He might have lost her to another prince, but Lydia would have heard about the sort of upheaval that could cause such a thing.
Lorelei had clearly suffered quite a thrashing. No horns, no wings. No scars, either, but perhaps those had faded. She spoke of demons being hunted in this city. Perhaps that had happened to her? Could Belial have decided she was damaged beyond her worth?
The look of surprise and concern on Carlos’s face tore Lydia from her thoughts. “What is it?” she demanded.
“You’re gonna have to find another ride home tonight,” announced a clear, amused voice. Carlos watched a young, blonde and beautiful waitress pull up a chair and plop down into it unceremoniously. Lydia saw her for exactly what she was.
“Hi,” the angel said. “I’m Rachel. Sorry about your friends. I mean, not really sorry, y’know, but still. Sounds like something I should say. You should tell ‘em to be careful around here.” She tossed the two kitchen knives down onto the table. “Bunch’a freaks in this town. Seriously. Ooh, hey, they brought the bread already!” She helped herself to the contents of the basket at the center of the table and swiped the butter knife from Lydia’s place setting. “This place makes awesome bread. You should try it.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Carlos snapped. He reached out to grab the butter knife out of her hand, but in the blink of an eye she whipped it around to rap him across the knuckles. Stung by the blow, Carlos jerked his hand back.
“I am so much more fucking trouble than you could possibly handle. Speaking of which,” she said, gesturing at Lydia as she held his gaze. “Repent, motherfucker. The end is near. For you, anyway.”
“What do you want?” Lydia asked through gritted teeth.
Rachel spread some honeyed butter over her roll and took a bite, savoring the flavor of it. “Holy fuck, this is so good,” she grinned with the morsel in the side of her mouth. The angel chewed and swallowed, looking at Lydia as if she couldn’t get over some private joke.
“I’m here to tell you I know what you’re thinkin’, and you’d better forget about it. He’s under my protection, and that means she is, too.”
Lydia’s scowl sharpened. “He cannot have a guardian angel if she is-”
“The fuck do you think I’m doing here in the first place, you Santorum-smelling slob?”
Lydia blinked. “What?”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Fucking Google it, bitch. Listen, it’s real simple. That guy? The succubus? And anyone around ‘em? Off-limits. Period. I even hear you’ve been so much as talking shit about ‘em, my foot’s gonna be so far up your ass, your mouth won’t have anymore room left for sucking dick.”
Lydia sat in stunned silence. Rachel glanced at Carlos before adding, “Okay, maybe there’d still be room for one as small as his.”
“You can’t be serious,” Lydia breathed. “The balance-”
“We can go right fucking now,” Rachel offered menacingly. Without breaking her staredown with Lydia, she snatched the phone away from Carlos and dropped it in front of the succubus. “Got any friends? Call ‘em. Let’s go.”
It was at that moment, her eyes now flitting this way and that as she considered the situation, that Lydia realized that all of the other guardian angels in the restaurant-a couple dozen of them, all formerly just minding their individual charges-now watched the situation closely. Most seemed concerned, but more than a few looked unsettlingly eager. A couple even grinned.
To stand alone against a guardian angel was folly. Doubly so against one who was so plainly, utterly mad. A demon lord could prevail, certainly, but no succubus. Not even one as powerful as Lydia. And to see other guardian angels look on with such aggression in their eyes…
The balance had held for centuries. It trembled now and again, in one land or another, but eventually stabilized again. It looked ready to tremble here and now. Lydia knew full well that despite euphemisms, to be at the center of a “tremble” was the gravest of perils.
“I came here tonight for dinner,” Lydia said. “I knew neither of her presence nor of her current state. My business does not concern the whore or her toy. Now are you finished posturing?”
Rachel held her gaze for another long breath, then nodded knowingly. “Good.” She stood and walked away.
Lydia’s nails dug into the table. She opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly Rachel returned. The angel snatched up the breadbasket and the small cup of honeyed butter. “This is way too good to waste on you cunts.”
* * *
“It would be impossible to hide away forever,” Lorelei explained in the elevator. “We could do it for a time. We could move to some sparsely populated corner of the globe. Withdraw from society. Live on my financial reserves and our love. But you would hate it, and yourself.” She held a duffel bag in one hand, and Alex’s hand in the other. He had his small backpack loaded with a bit of spare clothing.
“I don’t know,” Alex smirked. “I’m pretty sure we could keep ourselves amused.”
She smiled back at him. “Oh, you will never tire of me. But you have friends. Family. Dreams. You care about the people with whom you share this world. Though I would indulge you in endless pleasure, you need more of life than that. Thus other demons would discover us. It was only a matter of time. And now we’ll have to see how much it is worth to them to antagonize us. But I will protect you, Alex. As will Rachel. And, I think, others.”
“I don’t like the idea of hiding behind others,” Alex frowned.
“You will not. You have not. But I think you will not often find yourself standing alone.” She leaned in to kiss him until the elevator got to its appointed floor. As the doors open Lorelei backed off with a mischievous grin.
“All that is for another time,” she said. Her eyes held his as she tugged him along.
When she opened the door to the honeymoon suite, Alex couldn’t help but gawk. The “room” was bigger than the bottom floor of his mother’s townhome. The plush bed could easily accommodate more than two people. Fresh roses sat in a crystal vase on the small dining table in one corner. A plasma television hung over the fireplace across from the foot of the bed. The balcony overlooked the waterfront and Elliott Bay. A large Japanese whirlpool tub sat in the corner just across from the sliding glass doors.