Immortal (Fallen Angels #6)(29)
Author: J.R. Ward

As the levitation began to take serious hold, Jim looked into the center of the hurricane and wondered how this was going to work. But then the suck zone kicked up big-time, the inward flow becoming undeniable. Dust came with him as he was lifted from the insufferable ground, and he held Nigel in a death grip—literally.

He wasn’t going to lose the guy, especially as they started to spin.

Jim kept his eye on where they were headed until the particles in the air stung so badly he couldn’t keep his lids open. Then it was a case of faster and faster with the turning until his hair peeled back from his face and the silk robing Nigel had on slapped at them both.

Jim began to lose his grip. “Hold me!”

The archangel dropped his hands instead. Like he’d passed out.

Closer to the vortex they rose, faster and faster they spun, until Jim’s empty stomach revolted and he thought seriously of hurling.

And then he didn’t think of anything at all, because, like Nigel, he lost consciousness.

Chapter Thirteen

In the suck zone of the parlor, Sissy went horror-movie, clawing at the floorboards as she was pulled on her belly feet-first toward the energy swirl. Bracing herself for being ripped apart, she knew that whatever had happened to all those pieces of furniture, wherever they had gone, was going to—

Except then everything went haywire. Okay, more haywire.

The explosion was so great, her body went into a tumble, arms and legs flying through air or space or wherever the hell she was. Pain lit up over every inch of her skin, like she was being flayed alive, and when she went to scream, something entered her mouth and stung like bees.

Except she wasn’t getting sucked in.

She was being thrown free. Violently.

The impact of her hitting the wall was so great she went loose and cascaded to the floor. Her shoulder hurt so badly it had to be dislocated, and God only knew how much other damage had been done. For a moment, all she could do was lie there, but the sudden quiet in the room seemed as dangerous as all the noise had been.

With a groan, she rolled over onto her back and coughed. Her nose and throat were irritated, and as she blinked her vision clear, her eyes felt like they had sandpaper for lids. Gradually, she became aware that there was the strangest sound in the parlor, and it took her a moment to figure out what it reminded her of: sleet. It was just like a subtle chorus of sleet falling inside the house, a hundred million tiny particles hitting the floor.

Sissy pushed herself over onto her side and forced her vision to get with the program. Unbelievable, she thought. The maelstrom Colin and Devina had created was gone as if it had never been, and—bonus!—there was no new national landmark or body of water in its place. The parlor’s windows had all been blown out, however … and there was, right in the center of the room, a boulder-like mass that was covered with some kind of volcanic ash.

As if maybe all of the furniture and objects that had been sucked into the vortex had been chewed like gum and spit out.

Considering God only knew what it really was, she checked for the others in case there was more fighting to do: Colin was slumped where he had been originally thrown against the wall. Devina was crumpled in the corner on the floor, her anti-gravity thing not having outlasted the explosion. And Adrian was actually upside down on his head, his legs propped up against a stretch of molding like a drunk trying to do a yoga pose.

Nobody was moving—

No, wait … that mass in the center of the room was. And as it turned around itself she realized … it wasn’t solid at all—and it wasn’t made of rock. It was an orb of light that was covered in ash. And as it writhed, the gray dust fell from it, revealing something close to a three-dimensional shadow.

Two shadows. Twisted around each other.

Like two people who had had to hold on to each other.

All at once, Sissy’s brain came back online. Her body was slower to get with it, but she had enough coordination to crawl across the now-bare and dusty floor.

“Jim…” The tears that sprang to her eyes helped get rid of some of the grit. “Jim!”

At the sound of his name, half of the light separated, pulling free of the undifferentiated mass—and then with a sizzle of electricity, it beelined for Jim’s remains … and found home.

The animation was immediate. Jim’s body jumped, arms and legs flopping, that chest expanding as a great breath was taken—

Jim tried to sit up so fast it was like he had jumper cables hooked to his feet—but the dagger Colin had stabbed through his shoulder kept him down.

“Fuck!” he barked, grabbing that side of his pecs with his free hand like he couldn’t figure out why things hurt or were stuck. “Fuck!”

His curse was so loud, it woke up the other people in the room, but he didn’t look around. Those eyes of his went to hers and stayed there.

“Oh … God…” he whispered. “You’re back.”

“No,” she croaked as her strength gave out from relief. “You are.”

Gritting his teeth, he palmed the hilt of the weapon that impaled him and had kept his body from disappearing. Then he yanked the blade free not only of the floor, but his own flesh.

In spite of all he’d been through, and a now bleeding wound, he scrambled to her and grabbed her so hard, she had to groan—but she didn’t care. He could crush her as much as he wanted.

She crushed him back.

It seemed impossible that she was holding him. That he had returned.

Jim pulled back and cupped her face between his palms. “Sissy…”

Her heart was hammering so much, there was no opportunity for it to beat faster—even though she had the sense that he was going to kiss her. Hell, considering everything that had just happened, the fact that his stare shifted down to her lips and his strong arms maneuvered her into position seemed … like a pretty damned good idea.

Because she wanted it, too. She needed to feel him up close and all over—like that was the only way her mind could grapple with the fact that he was actually here.

“Sissy.” His voice was almost too deep to register. “I’ve gotta tell you something—”

“Get the fuck away from him,” the demon bit out.

In spite of the fact that the parlor was powdered with gray dust, Purgatory’s existence and any experience over there disappeared completely as Jim stared into Sissy’s eyes.

The vow he had made, the realizations that had come to him, stuck around, however.

Cupping her face, he got choked up not because he didn’t know what to say, but because there was too much to get out—and he said her name a couple of times while he tried to direct traffic in his brain.