“I did.” Temuel seemed agitated. “I swear by the Highest that I told you the truth. I took out or disabled all those things in your phone.”
“Yeah, well, that’s bullshit,” I began, then realized that he might actually be telling the truth. Because I wasn’t using that phone anymore. What was in my pocket was my new, clean Serbo-Croatian Cubby Phone. “Hang on—how did you know?”
“I can’t tell you. You’ll have to trust me.”
“I beg your pardon? Is this the comedy portion of the evening’s entertainment? Damn you, just tell me what’s going on!”
“Please don’t talk to me like that.”
For just a moment, I heard something in his voice I hadn’t heard before, a steeliness, perhaps even a cold, hard anger under the mild words. It reminded me that whatever else he was, Temuel was an archangel of the Lord God, and I had been talking to him like he was a street punk. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m under some stress. And I’m up to here with secrets.”
When he spoke again, Temuel sounded like his ordinary self. “I promise, Bobby, that I’m only trying to keep you safe. I want to know where you are in case I have to help you. Like now.”
“You may be a very good angel,” I said, grumpy again but taking things down a few notches, “but you are a terrible-ass liar, Archangel. I’d bet that ‘keeping me safe’ also has something to do with keeping yourself out of trouble as well.”
Another embarrassed look, like someone in a sitcom caught stealing ice cream from the fridge. He’d have been adorable if my soul and sanity weren’t in jeopardy. “Of course. I’m letting you run on a long leash, so I need some idea where you’re running.”
I filed this away for later. Was he telling me he knew about my visit to Anaita? How was he keeping track of me? I was ready to swear no one had been tailing me or spying on the apartment. But if he wasn’t going to tell me, he wasn’t going to tell me. You don’t force an archangel to do anything. Unless you’re a higher angel.
I realized I was still holding my gun on him and slipped it discreetly back into my coat pocket. “Just tell me what you’re doing here now. What’s going on? Why another surprise meeting?”
“It’s your request for a leave of absence, actually—I warned you, remember? I held onto it as long as I could, but people notice when you’re not doing your job, Bobby. You’re a bit infamous. Now the Ephorate is unhappy again, and they’re talking about bringing you back in for disciplinary action.”
“Which means?”
“Probably nothing good.”
“When you say the Ephorate, who do you mean, exactly? All of them?”
He looked troubled. “It’s very hard to explain all the ins and outs, but Chamuel, Anaita, and Raziel are the most disturbed. Terentia and Karael have, well, not defended you, but suggested that more information is needed. Karael even said that he thought you might have been more seriously affected by the disappearance of Edwin Walker’s soul and all the trouble that came afterward than anyone realized.”
“Karael defended me? Well, bless him.”
“He’s loyal to his soldiers, and you used to be a soldier. That’s mostly what’s kept you out of trouble so far.”
“As well as some string-pulling behind the scenes by you?”
He shrugged, but he still looked unhappy. “I do what I can, but I have no real power. Not compared to Terentia and the rest.”
The problem was, I didn’t know where Temuel himself actually stood, especially with Anaita, so I couldn’t question him about the things I most needed to know. You just can’t make too many assumptions where my bosses are concerned. I mean, from what my old top-kicker Leo and others like Gustibus had told me, there were grudges and vendettas being acted out in Heaven based on petty slights that took place while humans were still drawing bison on cave walls.
“So what do you suggest I do?”
“If I were you, I’d ask to be interviewed by our superiors about your reasons for taking leave. Make them more comfortable with what you’re doing, why you’re not doing your job. At the very least it might buy you a little more time.”
“Time for what?”
Now it was his turn to give me a hard look. “I don’t know. And to be honest, Bobby, I don’t want to know.”
That hung in the air for a good long time—several seconds at least. “Why are you helping me in the first place, Archangel?” I said at last.
“Anything I say will sound like . . . bullshit,” he said. I think it was the first time I’d ever heard him swear. “But I care about you. I even admire you, except when you’re being a complete idiot. And I think there are things that need to be discovered, unhealthy secrets that should not remain secret. If you can do that, then Heaven will be a better place.”
“But how can Heaven be a better place?” I said, only half-sarcastic. “It’s already perfect.”
“We all wish that were true,” Temuel said. “But some of us know it’s not.”
He’d brought the conversation to a halt again. I couldn’t think of anything else I could ask him without revealing my particular problem with Anaita. “I appreciate it, I guess. But next time, could you just, I don’t know, tone down the who-am-I-this-time games? It’s nerve-wracking.”
“I’m sorry. Perhaps I get a bit carried away. But I confess, I do enjoy it.” He was being cute and twinkly again, which made me mistrustful. God, it sucks to be me.
“Yeah, that’s pretty obvious. Can you drop me at the Salt Piers, or do you have to get this thing back to the real cab company? I need to do something about my car situation.”
“Ah,” he said, “I almost forgot! Get out, please.”
I did, and stood stretching my legs. Temuel came out of the front seat, dangling the keys in his hand. The keychain fob was a little enamel angel on cheap silver. “You kind of overdo it a bit, you know?” I told him. “That’s my main suggestion—just dial it back a little.”
He looked guiltily at the keys, then handed them to me. “Take it.”
“What do I want with an angel keychain?”
“No, the cab. It’s yours. You need a car, right?”
I couldn’t help it. I stared at him with my mouth half-open. “You’re giving me the cab?”
“Yes. Don’t worry—I didn’t steal it. Not from a cab company, anyway.” He put his finger beside his nose. I’d never seen anyone do that outside of an old movie. “Just don’t mention it to anyone in accounting upstairs, all right? Mum’s the word!”
“But what am I supposed to do with a freaking taxi?”
“Drive it. I’m told people don’t pay much attention to taxicabs. It should be good for your . . . for all the things you’re doing.”
I could only shake my head. While I was still shaking it, he started off down the road on foot, headed toward the bay. “Where are you going?”
“Back home,” he said. “But I thought I’d have a walk first. It’s nice to get out of the office.”
I watched the archangel until he was only a small shape outlined against the switch grass and rushes, just another schlubby guy out communing with nature. Then I got in my taxicab and headed home again.
Fucking thing didn’t even have a CD player, and it drove like a truck, but I guess it was better than walking.
twenty-five:
the smart set
WHEN I got back to the apartment, everybody hurried out to the garage to see (and make fun of) my new ride.
“That is so cool!” shouted Halyna. Oxana was laughing. “You are very funny, Bobby!”
“What are you supposed to be now?” Clarence asked me. “The Beatles?”
“Listen, you young whippersnapper, that Yellow was a Submarine. What you mean is, ‘Who are you supposed to be, Joni Mitchell?’ because her old man was taken away by a Big Yellow Taxi. Your grasp of culture is appalling, Junior.”
“Every time you open your mouth,” Clarence said, “you just seem older and weirder.”
Inside, the Amazons returned to lazy alternations of sparring and making dinner. (I’d told them I was tired of doing all the food prep.) I didn’t like what I was hearing of their meal plans, something about barley soup, so I sat down with Clarence. He’d brought his own computer and was scrolling through the images Oxana had taken at Schloss Sepanta.