Immortal (Fallen Angels #6)(9)
Author: J.R. Ward

Jim’s voice was deep and low. “Adrian, you need to leave this room now.”

The other angel was up and out of his chair before the sentence was finished. And as he limped out, Sissy was glad for the privacy. Shit was going down, and this did not need an audience.

When they were alone, Jim locked eyes with her. “I didn’t want you to see that.”

“What they did to you, or the scratches she left on your chest last night?”

“Either.”

“Too late.”

He closed his lids, but she wasn’t sure whether that was because he had serious regrets … or because he was trying to figure out what to say.

“I just don’t get you.” She shook her head. “And maybe that makes me naive—”

“This is war,” he cut in.

“And that is just sick!” she yelled back. “You’re disgusting!”

With an explosive lunge, he flipped the table over, sending a plate flying, scattering chairs. “Do you think I’ll stop at using anything it takes to win! Even if it’s myself!”

Sissy took a step back, and hit the counter by the stove. Something about seeing his anger got hers under some control.

After a long moment of standoff, she said grimly, “I don’t expect you to enjoy it, how ’bout that. Or are you going to tell me men can get it up even though they’re grossed out by someone? Didn’t think the anatomy worked like that—then again, I’m a virgin, right. So what do I know.”

Jim was breathing hard now, his blue eyes glowing, and not in a good way. But he wasn’t going to hurt her—in spite of what he’d just done to that poor table, she knew deep down in her soul he would never, ever hurt her.

At least not physically.

He’d already torn her apart on the inside, however. Although she wasn’t sure exactly how he’d gotten the power to do that.

“I hate it,” he said raggedly. “But I will use any weapon in this war, even my own body. Are we clear?”

“So now you’re a martyr as well as a savior? I don’t know, like I said, I think men have to enjoy it, don’t they.”

“I can’t do this with you.” He started shaking his head. “I’m not going to do this with you.”

“As if it’s none of my business? Like the outcome of all this doesn’t affect me?”

“No, as in you aren’t entitled to this airtime.” As she gasped, the anger flushed from his face and he stared at her with no emotion at all. “You’re the reason I lost the last round. Not Devina. It was you. I was so goddamn worried about you that I couldn’t concentrate—and the results were disastrous on too many levels. So I’m not going to do this with you. I can’t. I just … fucking can’t.”

She recoiled. “It was … me you were distracted by?”

“It sure as shit wasn’t Devina.”

Jim cursed his way over to the table and righted the thing like it weighed no more than a dime. Then he picked up the plate, located the fork over by the ancient refrigerator, and took them both over to the sink.

“I’ve got work to do,” he said on his way out.

And that was that.

At least on his side.

Sissy went after him, catching him by the arm before he hit the stairs in the front hall. She had to throw her anchor out big time to get him to turn around.

“I don’t need you to worry about me,” she gritted out.

“Okay, I won’t.”

She hid her wince. “And as for you and Devina, that’s your business.”

“Damn straight it is.”

“But I need you to let me help.”

“Oh, hell no. There’s no place for you in this—”

“I earned the right to fight by dying in her bathtub. By being in her wall. I earned the right to be in this, Jim.”

“No fucking way—”

“I have to fight for the others like me.” That shut him up enough for her to get a word in. “There are more like me down there. And they deserve to be free just like me. So you either let me help you win this, or I’ll go after her on my own. Your choice.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“The hell I don’t.”

“She can read the book.”

At the sound of Adrian’s voice, both of them turned to the front door. It was wide-open, and the other angel was parked on the front steps of the house, facing the sunshine.

Like he knew he’d gotten their attention, Ad twisted around. “If you want to get in and out of Purgatory in one piece, we’re going to need her. Unless you want to spend the next twenty years on Google Translate—and we don’t have that kind of time.”

“What book?” Jim demanded.

“The one that might be able to tell you what you need to know.”

“Purgatory?” Sissy interrupted. “What the hell are you talking about?”

The archangel Colin sat on the river’s shore up in Heaven, staring at the rushing water. In his dirty right hand, a crystal dagger rested against his palm, and in his filthy left, a bottle of gin. He’d gotten both from Nigel’s tent across the lawn.

The mess upon his flesh had been from his recent endeavors.

He took a deep swig of the Beefeater and squeezed the hilt of the dagger even tighter. In spite of his being an immortal, his body could function in the manner of a human if he assumed the flesh he was in the now.

And that meant he could feel the liquor taking effect, the exhaustion in his bones … and the madness in his mind.

Of all the ends he had considered in this war, him sitting alone and Nigel gone had not been among them.

Back at the time of Creation, the archangels had been brought into being as guardians of Heaven and the Manse of Souls. The five of them had been a deliberate balance of qualities, all fingers aboard a single palm, each with a part to play in the balance of function: Byron, who was the soul; Bertie, who was the heart; Colin, the mind; Lassiter, the body.

And Nigel, the rule-abiding leader of them all.

Lassiter had been the wild card, and he had not lasted. Distracted by physical yearnings, he had gotten into epic trouble and been banished, lost to a destiny and destination of which Colin was only vaguely aware. On the other hand, Bertie and Byron had been steadfast and true since the beginning, and now, in this moment of crisis with Nigel gone, they were behind the walls of the Manse, protecting what needed tending to.