In the distance, I heard a low rumble. I turned toward it. The earth began to quake beneath my feet. It sounded like a train. A speeding train that had every intention of crashing into the café. After a quick scan to assure myself there was no train despite the rumble growing louder and louder, I turned back to Reyes. He was gone.
Startled, I fell off the bench and landed on my ass. No one else had moved, not an inch, but Reyes had vanished.
The sound grew louder. I could feel the rumble deep in my chest. A split second before the train crashed into me, and time – yes, it was time roaring around me – bounced back into place, I saw the winged being again. In a flutter of soft white feathers and black down on the underneath, a man appeared. A stunning man with dark hair, a super-angry expression on his face, and a sword in his hand.
I scrambled back as he strode toward me, the same determination I’d seen on Lewis’s face in his expression. He raised the sword when he got closer, and a scream wrenched from my throat.
I raised a hand as though to block the blow, certain that all I would accomplish was the loss of that hand. But it was a reflex. An automatic response to someone slicing me in two.
A heartbeat before he swung, the smoke appeared again. The same smoke I’d seen earlier in the storeroom. It billowed up and around the being. The angel. It had to be an angel.
The angel stopped, lowered first the sword, then his head. He kept a wary eye on the smoke. Tightened his hold on the hilt. Then, to my surprise, spoke.
The language had round vowels and soft consonants. It was ancient and graceful and untainted.
“Show yourself,” he’d said, and somehow the fact that I knew a celestial language got lost in all the other crap going down.
The black fog ignored the command and continued to grow until it obscured my view of the angel completely. But I heard the clanging of swords even over the roaring train. Before I could make out what was happening, the train crashed into me. Time crashed into me. I felt like I’d jumped from a high cliff and splashed face-first into freezing cold water, the force was so jarring. It knocked my breath away, but at the last second, I remembered I was supposed to be with the robber.
I jumped to my feet and sprinted through the awakening of time. Movement that started out slow progressed quickly until, just as I slid into place beside the robber, it bounced back completely.
The bullet zinged through the glass. It didn’t shatter it, but the café would now have a nice-sized hole to cover up.
Finding it impossible to get his balance, Lewis stumbled and fell back against the hard floor, but as he did, his gaze locked on to the gun that had magically appeared beside him. He lunged for it and closed his fist around the handle.
The man beside me struggled to remove the barrier on his face. In an almost comical move, he tore it off, then searched frantically for the gun. A gun that was now being held on him.
“Get down!” Lewis shouted, and everyone in the café dropped to the floor. Everyone but the robber. He stood stunned, unable to figure out what had just happened.
I stepped back as Lewis advanced.
“Get the fuck on your knees,” he said, his tone suddenly menacing.
Shayla hurried toward us but stopped short to let Lewis do his thing. Left with little choice, the robber raised his hands and slowly sank to his knees in disbelief.
The only ones who didn’t drop to the floor were Erin, Shayla, and Reyes.
Reyes!
He was right where I’d left him. The same hard expression on his face. The same sour disposition. His muscles tightened as I studied him. His jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists. When he lowered his arm and pressed it to his side, realization hit me. He was hurt. A dark red stain spread over his rib cage to saturate the shirt he wore.
I gasped and started toward him, but his expression hardened even further. He rose from the seat and strode out the back door. I wanted to run after him, to check on him, but I couldn’t leave Lewis to take on the bad guy alone.
The sirens grew louder, and I braced myself for what was to come. Cops. News crews. Gawkers in every shape and size. The spotlight was not a place I liked to be, so I slowly sank into a chair and willed myself to become invisible. I’d let Lewis absorb the brightest rays and keep to myself as much as possible.
Two hours later, the cops had taken our statements, arrested the bad guy, and both congratulated and admonished Lewis for his bravery-slash-bullheadedness. He would’ve died if I hadn’t stopped time.
Or had I?
Did I have anything to do with what happened? Clearly there was more to Reyes than met the eye. Even my supernaturally inclined one.
He’d managed to elude the cops. No one could say for certain he was in the café except Francie and me. And she wasn’t talking. I had to give her brownie points for that. Not a lot. Maybe, like, three.
Cookie and I had been sitting together through most of the interrogations, along with Bobert, who’d stormed in after the fact. Cookie was shaken up. No doubt about it. And yet she was handling it all way better than I thought she would. She seemed more concerned about me than about herself. Come to think of it, the second Bobert found out she was okay, he seemed more concerned about me as well.
I wanted to ask him about the FBI contact, but I didn’t dare bring it up in front of a room full of cops. Ian was among them. He didn’t say a word to me, however, so there really was a silver lining inside every dark cloud. I’d wondered.
The chaos that followed the incident rivaled that of an impromptu visit from the president. Streets were blocked off. Cars were searched. No idea why. News crews set up around the perimeter. And everyone within a five-mile radius was questioned ad nauseam.
“We need to go to that house thing.”
I turned toward Cookie. “The house thing?”
“The mansion. But only if you’re still up for it.”
She was trying to get my mind off everything. To distract me lest I become depressed and start a round of self-mutilation treatment. “Let’s go, then. We’re getting pedicures,” I said to Bobert in a lyrical, come-hither voice. “I’m pretty sure you want to join us.”
“I’m pretty sure I don’t,” he said, matching my singsong voice. He leaned in and took my hand. “But if you need anything, Janey…” He left the offer hanging in the air and a slip of paper nestled in my palm. After giving that hand a quick squeeze, he stood and stretched. “You girls have fun.”
We watched him go, and I put my head on Cookie’s shoulder. “I like him.”
“I do, too,” she said.
Francie’s voice broke into my musings. “Reyes! Are —? Is everything —?”
He strolled past her, ignored a scowling Ian, and made a beeline straight for me. At least he wasn’t glaring. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll be right back,” I said to Cookie before taking hold of the hem of his shirt and leading him away from the melee amidst the scowls of Ian Jeffries. When we were in a relatively cop-free zone, I lifted my hand to his side. The side that had been soaked in blood.
He let me lay my hand on it, just barely, just enough to let him know what I would be referring to in my next question. He didn’t move but watched me with the intensity of a cobra.
“I should be asking you that. Are you okay? And Reyes, what the hell happened today?”