Immortal (Fallen Angels #6)(3)
Author: J.R. Ward

She glanced over her shoulder for a third time. But nope, Jim was not coming through the doorway. Nobody was.

Hell, for all she knew, he’d already left to have coffee with his—

“Stop it. Just … stop it.”

As her rage level went up another decibel, it felt like an eternity since she’d been a college student taking her mom’s car out to the local Hannaford for some ice cream … aeons since she’d been approached there by …

She couldn’t remember that part. Couldn’t re-create exactly what series of events had brought her to her mortal end, but she recalled everything that came after that: the viscous walls of Hell, the tortured damned twisting around her, her own pain turning her ancient.

Jim Heron had ended up down there, too—for a time. And Sissy had seen what the demon did to him. Had watched those shadowy minions do … horrible things to his body.

“Shit.”

All things considered, she should cut him some slack, right? He was a victim in all this, too, wasn’t he? So if, in the midst of this war, the man wanted to get a little grind, lose himself in someone, have a break from the horror and the pressure … what business was it of hers?

The guy had gotten her out of Hell, and for that solid, she owed him. But that didn’t give her the right to get all hot and bothered about him having gotten all hot and bothered with someone else.

Although granted, there was a lot at stake—if he lost, her own parents, her sister, her friends … herself and Jim and Adrian, all would go where she had just been. Now that was too horrific to think about. She had been down there for only a few weeks and it had felt like centuries; she had aged centuries. If it was going to be an eternity? She couldn’t even fathom the experience.

Refocusing, she decided to have another go at the cracking routine. And what do you know, egg number two split in the wrong place, half of the shell ended up in the bowl, and she had to go back to the sink and wash her hands again.

Turning off the water, she stared out the window. The backyard was downright ugly, the landscaping version of a man who hadn’t shaved for a week and didn’t have a good beard pattern working for him: Even though spring was gaining a firm toehold in Caldwell, New York, with buds forming on the tips of tree branches and the snow gone even from where it had been piled up high by the plows, a coat of green leaves wasn’t going to help back there.

In her previous life, she’d be getting excited for summer—even though all that entailed was her sharing an apartment in Lake George Village and serving ice cream at Martha’s for two months. But hello, summer was awesome. You got to wear shorts and hang out with your friends from high school, and maybe, just maybe … meet someone.

Instead, here, she was. An immortal with no life—

“You making scrambled—”

Sissy spun around so fast, her hip slammed into the counter—and her only thought was, Where was the nearest knife?

Except she wasn’t going to need a weapon.

Adrian, Jim’s wingman, was standing in the doorway from the hall, and the instant she saw him, she calmed down. The guy, fallen angel, whatever, was well over six feet tall, and in spite of that bad leg of his, he was built big and hard. He was also handsome in the way of a military man, with that strong jaw and the stare that followed everything, although the piercings gave him an anti-authority edge.

As did the fact that he was blind in one eye, the pupil having gone milky white from some kind of injury.

He frowned. “You all right?”

Nope. She was rip-shit pissed and absolutely terrified—both for no good reason. “Yup—I was just going to make breakfast.”

Like he hadn’t already figured that out?

Adrian limped over to the square table in the center of the kitchen, and when he sat down, his body was like a sack of loose bones, landing in the chair with the grace of Twiddlywinks falling. But that didn’t mean he was a lightweight.

“What’s going on,” he demanded.

Yup. For what she’d learned about him, this was pretty typical: straight shooter, no bullshit.

“You want four eggs?” She turned away from him. “Or three.”

“Talk to me.” There was another groan and she imagined he’d leaned his heavy arms on the table. Or tried to cross his legs. “You might as well. We’re the only ones up.”

“I guess Jim had a hard night.”

“He told you about the loss?”

“Yes.” Way to go, Jim. Fantastic. Hope those orgasms were worth it. “So how many eggs you want.”

“Seven.”

She glanced at what was left in the carton. “I can offer you four. I broke two and I want two myself.”

“Deal.”

And Jim could fend for himself. Or go ask his girlfriend to make some breakfast for him—

“Girlfriend?” Adrian asked.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yeah, you did.”

She threw up her hands and pivoted back to face him. “Look, no wonder Jim is losing. He’s too busy with some woman to pay attention to what he’s doing.”

Adrian just stared at her. “You mind if I ask where this is coming from?”

“Let’s just say I caught him coming home at four in the morning.”

Adrian cursed under his breath—and didn’t go any further than that.

Sissy shook her head. “So you know about his girlfriend, or fuck buddy, or whatever she is. You know what he was doing last night.”

“Look, it’s complicated.”

“That is a Facebook status. Not an excuse for screwing around on your job. Especially given the biblical stakes he’s playing for.”

On that note, she got cracking, so to speak. And made it through the rest of the carton fine. Poured a splash of milk in. Whisked her little heart out as she got the pan warmed up and the butter melted.

“My mom always told me to wait,” she muttered.

“For what?”

Okay, either her mouth needed to stop working or he needed to lose some hearing. Like she was going to talk about sex with the guy?

Then again, it’d just be a short convo, at least on her side.

Sissy shot his big, hard body a glance—and decided the topic would probably not be a quickie on his part. “Till the butter was right. Before you put the eggs in, you know.”

Ironically, the whole virginity thing was the reason the demon had taken her, the very thing that had set the wheels in motion and landed her here: just a couple of miles away from her family but separated by a divide so great she might as well have been on another planet.