"But I didn'ttouch him."
Jim was naked and shaving in his bathroom as the argument that had started up between Ad and Eddie hours ago continued next door in their room. It was kind of like having a TV on in the background - only their version of commercial interruptions were showers, dressing, breakfast runs, etc.
He got the impression the pair of them had done the back-and-forth forever. They were damn good at it, too ... very creative. And to think he'd once been impressed with his own F-bombing.
"Next time, be more specific," Adrian added. "You can't smack my ass on this one."
"Did you stop to think that what happened to Jim could have gotten into you? There was no one to help you."
"I didn't fucking touch him!"
Dog was ringside for the show, sitting in the open connector, his scruffy head going left and right as one of the boys spoke and the other followed up. The little guy seemed perfectly happy to just hang and play witness to the volleying. Maybe he thought it was the live version of an Animal Planet show; who knew.
Shaking his head, Jim braced his palms on the counter and leaned into the mirror. Last night's go-around with that badge had been a wake-up call. Devina had tricks and minefields he still had to learn about ... and there was no question that Veck was sucked up into all this -
"... vampire."
Jim frowned and leaned back, putting his head out into his room. Had he heard that right? Neither of his boys seemed like Twilight fans, although with Adrian, you never knew where the hell the lines were drawn. And ordinarily, he would have let it go. But he hadn't believed in angels, either ... until he frickin' became one.
"You saying I need to invest in garlic?" he shouted out.
Dog repositioned himself so he could keep his eyes on everybody.
Before a response came through the doorway, Jim's cell phone went off on the bedside table. Going over and grabbing the thing, the screen announced that the call was from a 518 area code.
Good morning, Detective DelVecchio.
"Heron."
"This is Veck. How are you and your colleagues?"
Recovering from all kinds of fun and games with you last night. "Good. Yourself?"
"We've been going through the casework on Cecilia Barten. Do you guys have anything we don't?"
Jim had been prepared for the info request - it was SOP, and the kind of thing he'd have been able to field if he'd actually been an FBI field agent. "I'm not sure. You want to meet and I'll take a look at what you've got?"
"Good call."
"There's not a lot to go on." Devina wouldn't have left dangling threads, and given all that she could manipulate, the cleanup job around the abduction had to have been spectacular.
"Yeah, I know. There were no witnesses - how in the hell could there have been no witnesses?"
Because his Sissy had been taken by a demon, that was why.
Not that she was his.
"Listen," the detective continued, dropping his voice. "I think she's connected to Kroner. Can you double-check your files on him, too?"
"Absolutely." Jim didn't especially like lying, but he had no problem with it when shit called for a fallacy. "I'll see what I can dig up. Lunch?"
"Yeah. Riverside Diner?"
"See you there at noon."
Putting aside the whole vampire thing, Jim walked around the end of the bed and stuck his head through the connector. "We have a date with the good detective."
Eddie and Adrian looked over, and instantly both of them frowned.
"What's around your neck?" Ad demanded.
"At twelve," Jim said, "which means you have another couple hours to argue while I get back on the Internet."
As he backed out and went for the pants he'd left on the chair, they followed him into his room.
"What's up with the necklace?" Ad barked.
Even though Jim was flashing his ass, he decided getting a Hanes undershirt on was more of a priority. He didn't want them to see Sissy's little strip of gold, thank you very much -
"We are fucked," Adrian muttered. "We are so fucked."
Jim yanked the shirt over his head. "Thanks for your vote of confidence - "
"She is not your problem! She's just some girl, get over it."
Wrong thing to say in the wrong tone on the wrong morning.
Jim flashed over to the guy and jammed his face into the other angel's. "I spent part of yesterday afternoon staring into the eyes of that girl's mother. So before you write her off as nothing special, I suggest you go over there and see for yourself how much she does matter."
Adrian didn't back down. "And I suggest you get your priorities straight. There've been a hundred thousand pretty, innocent victims in this conflict, and yeah, that's tragic, but it's also reality. She's just the most recent one I've seen - you gonna pull this shit with every chick you come across? This is war, not a goddamn dating service."
Jim bared his teeth in a snarl. "You holier-than-thou motherfucker. Don't you ever pretend to know me."
"Then do us a favor and know yourself!"
Jim stepped back. And glanced at Eddie. "Get him away from me - and keep him there. We're done."
Adrian tossed a,eah, whatever," over his shoulder and walked back into their bedroom. A moment later, a door slammed shut.
Jim yanked his leathers on commando, and in the silence, he wanted to scream.
"He's right," Eddie said.
Shooting a glare over his shoulder, Jim bit out, "And you can leave, too. I don't need either one of you."
There was a beat of quiet and then Eddie's brows slowly lowered, cranking down over those red eyes ... that suddenly started to glow.
Jim took a step back, but not because he was afraid he was going to hit the guy. More like he realized he'd thrown a match on some gasoline.
Eddie Blackhawk pissed off was not something to fuck around with.
In a voice that warped as if it were a radio going in and out of frequency, the angel growled, "You want to be an island? Good luck with it - I saved your cock and balls last night, and that wasn't the first time. You think Adrian's the problem in this? Take a look in the mirror, you'll get further."
On that note, Eddie pivoted on his heel and shut the connector, locking it in place. Then a brief flare of incandescent light suggested the angel had taken off the old-fashioned way.
Wheeling around, Jim picked up a cheapo chair, raised the thing over his shoulder, and got ready to throw it at the door.
Except he paused as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror over the dresser.
His face was flushed with fury, his eyes glowing icy blue in the same way Eddie's had gone Christmas-light red. His T-shirt was stretched tight across his bulging chest and shoulder muscles, and Sissy's delicate necklace was cutting into the cords of his neck.
Slowly lowering the chair, he leaned into the glass and checked the tiny gold links. Any more of that and he was going to break the thing, just split it right in half.
"Dog, I'm going out for a little bit."
When there was no chuffing reply, no pawing at the calf for attention, no pair of scruffy ears popping up over the far edge of the bed, he pivoted around.
"Dog?" Jim whistled through his teeth. "Dog?"
Maybe the little guy had gotten locked in over at Eddie and Ad's. Going to the door, Jim went to spring the lock with his mind -
No luck.
No Dog, either.
He was alone.
For a moment, he had a head scratcher, a kind of what-the-fuck-just-happened-here. But then he shut his connector and dead bolted it. All things considered, this split had been inevitable. He and Adrian had gotten into a fistfight within forty-eight hours of officially working with each other, and all that oil/water had continued to simmer below the surface. And yeah, Eddie was cool, but Jim had the sense he could lap the guy when it came to the magic - so he couldn't say he felt compromised.
It was neater this way. Cleaner.
Besides, when he'd been under Matthias the Fucker at XOps, he'd always worked alone, so this was also business as usual.
He was used to this.
Partners, whether professional or personal, were just too goddamn messy for the likes of him.
