“You’re not sending gifts to the afterlife,” added Molly. “For all we know it works out like that on the other side, but mostly the silver is just a carrier.”
He reached into the bowl, drew out a silver bracelet and looked at it for only a moment before he tossed it into the water below. The lack of ceremony seemed odd to him after all the ritual chanting and procedure, but he trusted the guidance of his friends. If they gave no instructions, he must not need any.
On occasion, he looked at a particular piece and said, “Goodbye.” At other times, he did not. He had no conscious thought as to which piece represented what, or why he would need to say anything at all. He simply did what felt right.
Finished, he upended the bowl over the side of the bridge to let the remaining water out into the canal. Alex let out a long sigh and closed his eyes.
“How do you feel?” asked Onyx.
“Better.” He considered her question further. “Relieved.” He ran his fingers along the bar of the railing.
He’d fought in Vietnam, and against the Saracens. He’d raided against the Danes. He’d had a wife leave him for a wealthier man, and another sell him to slave dealers, and another cheat on him with the village priest. It was all there, but no closer at hand than thoughts of middle school or the bike he’d ridden in fourth grade until it was stolen. He remembered losing Halla, remembered losing Siobhan, but he couldn’t be sure of their names. Memories of being cut from the football team during tryouts were much clearer. “It’s all in pieces. Is that normal?”
“We don’t know if there is a normal with this,” Onyx reminded him.
He nodded slowly. “I feel like I’m me again, but… but it’s there. I know things happened, I know it kind of shapes things, but I couldn’t tell you accurate stories.”
“That’s probably for the best,” Onyx considered. “Let it process. The important thing is you feel like yourself, right?”
“Yeah. Thank you.” He turned to face the couple. “What now?”
“Depends,” Molly shrugged. “You feel like you’re all right in the head now? No shame if you just want to go home and go to bed or see your ladies or whatever.”
He didn’t answer out loud immediately. It would be difficult, looking back, for any of them to remember whose face cracked with a mischievous grin first, or whose eyes first glinted with a wordless invitation. But they would all remember who broke the tense, eager silence.
“I’m starving,” Alex said coolly. “Can I take you both to dinner? Go someplace nice? Anything you want.”
Onyx smothered her grin and nodded. “I could eat,” she admitted.
Molly’s jaw dropped. “Motherfucker.”
“What?”
“You’re gonna be like that?” she said, exasperated and trying not to laugh. “All this bullshit and now you’re gonna play coy with us?”
Though his good mood was obvious on his face, Alex masterfully held his cool composure. He stepped in close to Molly and gently took hold of the lapels of her leather jacket. The redhead said nothing and let it happen, her eyes wide with surprise as her body stirred. The bridge was no longer a cold place.
Alex gently pulled her close and kissed her, softly at first but soon building with lust and desire. Molly’s hands remained at her sides, but she could have melted. When her eyes finally opened as their lips parted, Alex gave a little nod.
“I’m worth it,” he assured her, and then stepped away.
Onyx let out a half-irritated, half-amused sigh next to her lover. “He really is,” she grumbled. She took Molly’s arm and tugged the bewildered redhead into motion back to her car.
Chapter Eleven: Trust
Matters of safety and security remained unresolved. The day’s activity revealed only partial information, providing her with little that she could act upon decisively. She had planted a few seeds that might or might not germinate and followed up on leads that, while going nowhere, at least eliminated possible complications.
Enemies still stalked the city for those dearest to her. Mystery and mistrust still dogged her from within her small circle of friends.
For all that, Lorelei felt quite satisfied as she relaxed in the large bathtub. Water hot enough to scald a mortal surrounded her, along with bubbles and the soothing scent of her candles. She had lived in homes more opulent than this-palaces, even-but for the moment, the succubus was beyond content.
Desire ran through her-not just her own endless desire, but specific lusts and longing from her mortal lover, now fully embraced. The simplest, most obvious of Lorelei’s schemes stood ready to come to fruition. She relished in his lighter, more spontaneous trysts, but those that came through deep and genuine affection were always much better. For all its ease, her sense of anticipation and accomplishment at helping this along left her feeling quite smug indeed.
Light from a dearly familiar source chased away the shadows. Lorelei’s eyes opened and turned to the door, which had never opened. As usual, the angel simply stepped right through. The aura of light from her halo and her body remained muted and timid, more likely a result of her mood rather than a result of deliberate consideration. For all the passion of the previous night after their brief argument, Rachel knew not all was settled. So did Lorelei.
“Hey,” Rachel said.
Lorelei’s quiet, self-satisfied grin remained. “My love,” she acknowledged.
“I feel weird. Good weird.”
“You’ve felt this before.”
“Yeah, I know, and… and Alex isn’t here.”
“He is not.”
“I mean I figured he wasn’t with you, ‘cause I can recognize those fireworks,” Rachel explained.
“Oh? We’ve fallen into a routine?” murmured Lorelei.
The angel smirked at her. “More like you’re the only one who takes it off the charts every time.”
“I am not,” Lorelei said mildly, her eyes meeting Rachel’s with meaning. “I know full well what you two share.”
The blonde huffed. “Yeah. Well. Point being, this is… uh…” She shuddered and couldn’t keep the grin off her face. The demon in the bathtub felt it, too, though her outward reaction was not so obvious. “Is he with the witches?”
“Yes.” Lorelei reached out of the bathtub to briefly slide her hand against a towel hanging nearby before picking up her cell phone. A single push of a button revealed a brief text conversation. “They have helped him lay to rest the turmoil of his past. I know no details as yet, but if one reads between the lines it is clear that his situation is vastly improved.
“He has taken them to dinner,” Lorelei continued, looking meaningfully at the angel, “and plans to stay the night with them.”
“Hhhhuh.”
“This is no spontaneous tryst,” warned the succubus, “nor is it a matter of lust alone, though I feel an abundance of that, as well. Two young women, both of whom mean a great deal to him, and both of us connected to his pleasures… and you know his other connections to me.”
For once, Rachel was at a loss for words. She stared at her lover.
Lorelei’s smug grin remained. “If there were ever a night to hide away from the world and have me all to yourself…”
“They went to dinner?” Rachel asked, her voice shaking.
“They have only just arrived, and likely haven’t been seated. If you have affairs to put in order, you have perhaps an hour.” She paused thoughtfully. “I could ask him to stall, if you like?”
“Nonono!” Rachel blurted. “An hour’s good. Fuck it, I don’t even wanna wait an hour, I’ll just-shit, I gotta find someone to keep watch, and-“
“May I be of assistance in some way?” offered the succubus, still relaxed and smooth in the face of the angel’s obvious excitement.
The thought broke Rachel from her rush of thoughts. “Tell him thanks for the warning shots?”
“I shall convey your love.”