Immortal (Fallen Angels #6)(79)
Author: J.R. Ward

“No, thank you.”

She narrowed her eyes on him as he leaned over and took … ugh, a beer out of the little refrigerator under the countertop.

“Do you mind drinking that out of a glass?” she muttered.

“Bottle’s fine for me.”

“Of course it is.”

There was a pop and a hiss as he cracked the top and then a glug as he swallowed. Standing in the midst of the penthouse’s luxury, he was like a groundskeeper in the main house, nothing but a T-shirt and jeans covering his body, those boots on his feet something you’d find at an Army/Navy surplus store instead of Saks Fifth Avenue.

Even Macy’s didn’t carry shit that cheap.

And yet here she was, sitting across from him, heart in her throat, ears pricked to hear some nuance, any nuance, that authenticated her romantic fantasies.

Bringing her manicured hands up to her face, she rubbed her temples, being careful not to smudge any of her foundation.

“I really need to end this,” she heard herself say.

“Yeah, and that’s my point. We both have way too much to lose. We’re even, going into this last round. Why should you give up your collections if I win? Why should I be the one who fucks Heaven in the ass if you win? This is all bullshit.”

As he threw his head back and sucked down a third of the beer in there, she watched his Adam’s apple go up and down.

Then she had to shift her eyes elsewhere, because he was just a total suck zone for her. In spite of all the reasons she should not just find him unattractive, but hate him … she was utterly enamored.

Which made what he was suggesting all the more compelling.

Especially because he was the soul.

If he did win, she was going to lose him. She was also going to lose herself—as well as her children down below. But if they quit? Then it was back to status quo.

Well … status quo provided the Creator decided not to blow up the world, after all. And somehow, she didn’t think He was going to do that. While she’d been going back and forth with Him after she’d copped the blame for the whole portal-to-Purgatory thing, she’d had the sense that He had reconnected to His creation in a way He hadn’t been when he’d set up this final endgame.

Jim finished the beer on his fourth “sip” and left the empty on the bar. For her to clean up, naturally.

Men, she thought.

“I gotta go. But think about it and let me know before the next round gets started—”

“Wait,” she snapped. “This is it? You’re leaving?”

He went over to the door he’d come through. “Yeah.”

She hopped up from the armchair and marched over. “I put on my new Louboutins for you.”

His brows went up. “I’m sorry? You mean the”—he motioned around her chest—“this stuff?”

“No!” She stamped her foot. “No! That’s La Perla, you dumb-ass! My shoes, motherfucker—would it kill you to notice one goddamn thing about me for once!”

Jim put his hands out like he was warding off a crazy woman. “Listen, I don’t—”

She jabbed a finger in his face. “You are the most egotistical man I have ever met. You never call me unless you want something, you are never there when I need you, and you’re not even monogamous! I’m beautiful and I’m worth it!”

Oh, my Christ, she thought, he had her so fucked in the head she was quoting a L’Oréal ad.

Jim stared at her for the longest time.

And then he shocked her for real: “I’m sorry.”

All she could do was blink. “What … what did you say?”

“You heard me, I’m sorry. I … look, this war? It’s not good for either one of us. It’s coming between us, you know?” As Devina opened her mouth, he shook his head like he knew exactly what she was going to say. “No, no, leave Sissy out of it—forget about her. This is between you and me right now. Let’s just end all this so we can put aside the fucking bickering, ’kay?”

Devina put her hands up to her face and blinked some more. Every line in his face was open, his body relaxed, his eyes level and unmoving from hers.

But he’d lied to her once already, hadn’t he.

Narrowing her stare, she bit out, “If you are playing me, I will never forgive you.”

“Fair enough.”

And that was it. He just stood there by the door, sincere, calm, and ready to stop fighting.

“I can’t get hold of the Creator,” Jim said. “Only you can do that. So if you agree with me and you want to end this, you’re going to have to get Him to come to both of us.”

OMG, that would be awesome, she thought. Kind of like introducing your new boyfriend to your parents, which, hello, was yet another human fantasy she’d never been able to live out.

Until now, a part of her squee’d.

“I’d better go.” He opened the door, and a cold breeze shot into the warm interior. “I don’t want to cloud your thinking—you need to decide this on your own. But if you’re up for it, get the Creator and bring Him to me. The sooner, the better, okay?”

He paused as a gust blew her hair back, as if maybe he were captivated by her. “Yeah,” he murmured as he seemed to shake himself. “You think about it.”

As she followed him out onto the terrace, she watched as his wings, his incredible wings, formed over his shoulders. A moment later, he was off, soaring into the night sky.

Like something out of Shakespeare, she clasped her hands to her heart, and ran to the railing, leaning against it so she could see the shimmering presence of him disappear into the face of the revealed moon.

The only thing that could have made it better … was if they’d been in Paris.

Sissy woke up with a start. Everything was dark in Jim’s bedroom; there were no sounds disturbing the peace; nothing seemed missing—

No, wait. There was no Jim.

Sitting up, she clicked on a brass lamp and looked around, although, come on—a man as big as he was? You were going to hear that moving around. Maybe he’d gone to the bathroom? Forcing herself to lie back down against the pillows, she waited to hear footsteps. Flushing. Running water.

Nothing.

Maybe she should just go and check…?

Except, jeez, it seemed waaaaay too early in their relationship to become so possessive that the guy couldn’t even take a leak on his own. Folding the sheets carefully up to her chest, she told herself to calm—