Immortal (Fallen Angels #6)(41)
Author: J.R. Ward

Thus far, he had not been successful.

In truth, though the body had moved, the consciousness was still on the far side of Heaven, and there was a bumbling, buzzy dizziness associated with the split.

He had the sense that if only he were able to connect with something vivid here, it would help the re-integration process.

But Colin had made his position known on that with a shake of his head back in that parlor—

Off in the distance, across the rolling green lawns, a figure in white appeared and grew closer … and Nigel’s breath stopped in his throat. Tall and forceful, with a stride like that of the fighter he was, Colin approached with efficiency … and brought with his presence a devastation that left Nigel reeling.

When the male sat down, he greeted only Tarquin, the Irish wolfhound, as all others went still and silent.

In the tense quiet that followed, Nigel noticed that that dark hair was wet from a recent washing and that Colin smelled of sandalwood and spices.

“Now that we are all in attendance,” Nigel said hoarsely, “I wish to formally apologize for my actions.”

Or more accurately: I am so sorry, Colin. And I would have preferred to do this in private.

“In an effort to more fully engage the savior, I—”

Colin cut in, “I think we can all agree that given the dire state of the war, the only thing that matters is where one goes from here.”

Read: I am not interested in any kind of explanation or apology, public or private.

Nigel took a moment to recover from a blow to his gut. “Yes. Of course.” He cleared his throat as Byron and Bertie became quite engaged in counting the currants in their scones. “I believe the question is whether or not to tell the savior of his upcoming role in the war.”

“You’re assuming he wins this round,” Colin muttered.

“He will not stand for losing.”

“This is an angel who gave a flag away, may I remind you.”

“He is changed.”

“Because he went to Purgatory and back?” Colin’s eyes were level as they finally looked across the tea sandwiches on their stand. “It must be a transformative place, then. Unfortunately, too little, too late and all of that.”

“’Tis not the place, but the nature of mistakes which changes a person’s course. The mourning of foolish actions can be a powerful catalyst.”

“There are many things that can be catalysts.”

Read: Such as being abandoned and betrayed by one whom you love.

“Tea?” Bertie asked, as if he wanted to break up the subtextual bickering.

“No, thank you.” Colin sat back and stared at the Manse of Souls. “Sustenance is the last thing of interest to me now.”

Byron put his cup down in its saucer as if he, too, had lost his appetite—but his eyes gleamed behind his rose-colored glasses. “I am encouraged by your optimism, Nigel. I am of hope that we shall as yet prevail—and although I have always respected your commitment to the rules of this war, I can see why Jim’s knowing that he is to be the last soul which is battled for could be beneficial.”

“Assuming we do not lose this round,” Colin interjected. “As we have lost three others.”

“Jim will not be bested.” Nigel took a sip from the rim of his porcelain cup. The tea tasted like dishwater, even though it had been conjured in the same manner it had been forever. “Not with who is in play.”

“You think that will make a difference?” Colin smiled coldly. “Love is not quite so bankable. At least in my experience.”

With that, the archangel got to his feet. “If you all will excuse me, I’m going to do a check of the castle periphery.”

“Would you care for company?” Bertie asked.

“No. Thank you.”

As Colin stalked off, Bertie and Byron once again busied themselves with ocular endeavors that did not include Nigel.

“Tarquin,” Nigel murmured. “Do follow after him, will you?”

The Irish wolfhound let out a chuff and then padded off in Colin’s wake, keeping his distance and being as subtle as an animal who weighed ten stone and looked like a floor mop could be.

“I believe I shall retire for some rest,” Nigel said as he put his napkin upon his empty plate. “Do excuse me, will you.”

He hated getting emotional under any circumstances. Showing sadness or pain in front of others?

In the words of the savior, No fucking way.

Chapter Twenty

“Welcome to Home Depot! What are we looking for today?”

As Jim eyed the source of the noise, he was thinking fondly of knives. Brass knuckles. A tire iron. But come on, the greeter was a seventy-year-old man with more hair in his white beard than on his head—like the poor soul deserved that kind of treatment for no reason at all? Hell, he was like an almost Santa Claus who just needed a course of Rogaine to get there. And a red velvet suit instead of that orange apron. Bib. Whatever it was.

“Plywood,” Ad said.

“Oh, that’s great!” Yeah, he probably said that in response to every conceivable reply: garden hoses, grills, lightbulbs, flooring. “You want to go allllllllllllllll—”

He drew out the Ls as he pivoted and pointed past the lineup of twenty-foot-high scaffold’d displays with their packed-in SKU’d merch.

“—llllllllll the way to the back. Ask for Billy. Have you been here before? Because we offer a special checkout for oversize orders.”

“Thanks,” Ad said as he began to walk off.

“And thank you for your service, young man.”

The angel paused. “I’m sorry?”

“Weren’t you wounded in the war?”

“Ah, yeah. Guess you could say that.”

As Ad gave Almost Santa a nod and limped off, Sissy followed tight on the angel’s heels, and Jim lagged behind.

Goddamn, it had been a while since he’d walked through a store like this. Or … more accurately, it just seemed like it had been forever.

The shit made him remember back to how out of touch he’d been when he’d finally maneuvered himself free of XOps: He’d known only that he was done with the whole killing-for-the-government thing; he hadn’t thought much about being a civilian, or what a simple joy it was to get in your four-year-old car and leave your two-thousand-square-foot ranch and drive three-point-three miles to your local Home Depot or Lowe’s and buy a cocktail of lawn fertilizer, a new hammer, and weatherstripping for your back door.