Chapter Six

“Shay, honey, it’s me.” Sunny cradled the phone against her ear. She was stil lying in bed, barely having slept at al last night. “I got a favor to ask.”

This favor was the closest thing to a plan of action that Sunny’s many sleepless hours had yielded. Drawing a breath, she laid that plan on her friend. “You know those books that Jamie had in the cel ar last night? Any chance I could borrow a few of ’em?”

“I wish.” Shay sighed into the phone. “Jamie holed himself up down there last night after you left, and he’s not budged ever since. No way would he let me take anything out of the library. Frankly, Sunny, he’s not been in his right mind since you left.”

Sunny closed her eyes. “He’s gotta leave the cel ar sometime, right?”

“But not long enough that I could let you borrow any of those books. He’d ask too many questions, al of them about you.”

And he’d want to know why Shay was removing those volumes, which would elicit a firestorm of problems, as wel as potential amorous attention once Jamie realized Sunny was the one after the texts. Which was so not what Sunny needed right now. She’d been hoping to come up with a subtle way of investigating their “problem” without Jamie knowing. Like she’d told him, she was a lower-rung angel, and it wasn’t as if she had many answers, but during the night she’d come to hope that maybe—just maybe—some of his family’s many volumes about angels might help them.

Might even point out a way they could be together, a way she might fal to earth without turning dark or sinning.

“Sunny, I have to tel you . . . Jamie can be incredibly stubborn. He won’t let this thing with you go easily.”

“But, Shay, he doesn’t understand. If he did, he wouldn’t be doing al that research.”

“Then why did you want to read al those same books?” Shay asked innocently. “Just a sudden random interest in learning more about your own kind?”

“I kept praying, al last night . . . hoping there might be some way.”

“You can’t blame my brother for hoping and praying for the same thing.” Shay laughed into the phone, lowering her voice. “That kiss you two shared, it must’ve been out of this world.”

Sunny’s face flushed and she covered her eyes even though Shay wasn’t there to see her shyness. “I think I could love him.” Sunny reached for a pil ow, pressing it against her cheek, wanting to hide in shame.

Shay made a happy little squealing sound into the phone. “That means we’ve just got to solve this problem.”

“It’s more than a problem!”

“A compatibility issue, that’s al . God is love. You of al people know that, more than any of us.

So if He is love, and you think you could love my brother, then maybe it’s not as forbidden and impossible as you seem to think.”

Sunny opened her mouth, about to argue and explain Kiel’s warnings, but Shay was too excited to hear.

“Sunny, dol , I have an idea. Just keep an open mind and I’l be over in an hour.”

Shay sat down across from Sunny on the sofa. She clasped her hands together, excitement glinting in her eyes. “I don’t know how much you know, as an angel. About me or us, I mean.”

Sunny couldn’t help smiling. “I’m limited in my scope. So don’t worry; I don’t know the secret stuff you wrote in your diary at fourteen.”

Shay reached for the big purse she’d plopped on the floor. “What about my gifts? Jamie’s and Mason’s? Know anything about that?”

“Just that you’re al very gifted hunters. That’s al .”

Sunny peered into Shay’s purse, wondering what she was pul ing out of it. Suddenly her friend produced a big sketch pad and charcoal pencils. Shay placed them both on her knees and then faced Sunny. “I’m a prophetic artist. That’s one of my gifts, and that means I can sketch the future or visions or sometimes get heavenly insight. I’m a prophetess.”

Sunny grinned. “Oh, yeah, that—that I’d actual y sensed. Sorry, forgot to mention it. It’s in the way your aura glows. It’s pearl colored.”

“Real y?” Shay’s eyes went wide. “I don’t see auras. None of us Angels do. That’s freaking cool.”

“Just like humans, heavenly guardians have different gifts. That’s one of mine.”

“Like how I draw and see things, learn things.” Shay nodded in understanding, opening her sketch pad. “Oh, and I should warn you, Sunny—I kind of zone out while I do this.”

Shay slowly began moving her pencil across the blank page. Her dark eyebrows knitted together; her pale blue eyes became glazed as she stared down at the page. After several silent moments, she began a rocking motion as she drew, humming a strangely monotone tune that sounded a bit like a hymn.

Sunny rose quietly, moving to the sofa where Shay sat, intensely curious as to what her prophetic drawing might reveal. Shay kept working, oblivious as Sunny settled beside her on the couch.

Very quietly, Sunny stole a look at the sketch, and her breath caught in her throat at the vicious scene on the page. Jamie lay prone on the ground, a heavy metal chain wrapped about his throat

—held firmly in the hands of a hideous-looking demon. And if anything might have frightened her away from Jamie, if any image could have convinced her that she didn’t belong in his life, the rest of Shay’s sketch did just that.

Because standing over Jamie’s prone body, radiating with heavenly power . . . stood Sunny herself.

Sunny pressed a hand to her lips. “That’s terrifying.”

“What?” Shay turned to her, blinking in surprise—almost as if she were coming out of a deep trance.

Sunny pointed to the drawing. “Look at it. He’s in danger . . . because of me.”

Shay studied her own drawing for a moment, then shook her head in disagreement. “That’s only one possible interpretation.”

“You got another?” Sunny’s heart leaped, no longer lodged quite so firmly in her chest.

Shay pointed to the image. “Yeah. Maybe you’re meant to fight with him. Maybe you’re supposed to be a team.... You’re together in this image.”

“And he’s in trouble because of that.”

Shay shook her head. “You’re watching over him here, helping,” she said, then gave Sunny a long, significant look. “Looks to me like you’re about to save his butt. And that’s exactly what fighting partners do: watch each other’s backs.”

Sunny buried her face in both hands. “Oh, honey, but that’s not what I’m cal ed to do. I’m Kate’s guardian, not Jamie’s.”

“Sometimes mission priorities change. That’s true on Earth, so I’m guessing that might be true for heaven, too.”

Sunny’s hands fel to her lap. “If I only had information, some way to know that you’re right.”

Shay smiled, a conspiratorial gleam in her eyes. “Uh, Sunny? I didn’t just bring my sketch pad.”

She reached inside her big purse and retrieved three dusty volumes, leather-bound, with ancient writing on them. “I brought these, too—smuggled them out of the cel ar without Jamie knowing. I say it’s time we go to the source and look for real information.”

“About what, though?” Sunny’s thoughts were whirling, confused. So much was happening, and so quickly.

Shay’s voice became much quieter. “Whether angels can ever choose to become ful y human.”

Night final y came to Savannah after what felt an almost interminably long day. Jamie had spent many hours researching angel lore down in the cel ar, including what would happen if one fel to Earth, and he’d only come up empty-handed. There appeared to be no way that he could hope to pursue a relationship with Sunny, yet it didn’t stop his heart from hoping. Stupidly hoping.

And one tiny verse in a rare ancient Greek text had given that sparking hope a bit of kindling. It was from the book they cal ed The Hunter’s Lexicon, a set of instructions to demon hunters from the oldest times. In it, Jamie had discovered a passing reference to human atonement. That should a hunter engage inappropriately with a heavenly guardian, he should atone by spil ing demon’s blood.

He would’ve been out on River Street tonight anyway. Knowing that hunting his demonic quarries might absolve him, possibly even Sunny, of his sin of wanting her was an extra benefit.

Perhaps if he could just fight hard enough, kil enough demons, then perhaps he might be worthy of Sunny. Perhaps God might deem him worthy, his sin forgiven.

The cobblestoned walkways of bustling River Street were always the perfect hunting ground, and so he’d enlisted Mason, the two of them rol ing into downtown after ten p.m. This time of night was usual y when some of their worst nemeses began preying on unsuspecting tourists, taking advantage of the inebriated state of the humans to do some soul sucking or body possession.

Jamie and he dressed in al black, fading into the riverfront, unnoticeable to most of the partygoers out at the bars and restaurants. The cops were on their side, and always turned a blind eye to their subtly concealed weapons and paramilitary gear.

Walking beside him, Mason sighed heavily. “Dude, would you stop glowering like that?”

Jamie turned to his brother. “I’m not doing anything but my job,” he said defensively. “Just scanning the perimeter, looking for the usual perps, like always. I tel ya, if Thrastikas shows up down here tonight, I’m in no mood to issue any pardons.”

In fact, that higher-ranking demon would make a perfect atonement. He’d performed a litany of vile deeds in the past month—including motivating a stabbing that Jamie had witnessed firsthand.

The victim had spent weeks in ICU. That demon needed to go down, and Jamie was ready to off the beast. Besides, Thrastikas had been after Jamie’s blood for a while, and tonight was the perfect time to end their feud.

Mason grinned, his own eyes searching the dark side al eys. “I thought Thrastikas was your best friend. That you wanted to turn gay together.”

“Okay, that’s beyond disgusting, so I won’t even go there.”

Thrastikas had thick leather wings that were prone to making earsplitting noises when they beat together. He also wore manacled chains about both legs that clanged and dragged loudly, which only emphasized his permanently hunched shoulders and crooked back.

“In fact, that’s about like me saying you wanna go straight with—”

Mace hit him on the arm, silencing him. With two fingers he indicated the side al ey, and sure enough, who should be lurking in the shadows along with a lower minion but Thrastikas himself.

Jamie reached to his hip, where he had a dagger sheathed, and slid the powerful blade into his palm. Beside him, he felt the whisper-quiet motion of his brother doing the same; one of Mason’s best fighting skil s, in fact, was how lethal y quiet he could be. Stealthily, he and Mace crossed the street, concealing themselves against the bar that stood adjacent to the al ey where the demons were waiting. And Jamie had no doubt that that was precisely what the pair were doing—waiting for unsuspecting humans to molest and violate.

Jamie paused in the shadows, Mace right behind him. If they didn’t enter the al ey directly, the demonic duo might vanish into the dark. But if they waited, they might have a better chance of ambushing the pair, especial y if the demons left the al ey and ventured out onto River Street.

Jamie’s heart hammered in his chest. No matter how many times he’d gone on the hunt, he never ceased to get an adrenaline rush that made his entire body grow taut. He also never failed to remember that one false move, and his current demon battle could be his last.

Mace touched his arm, pointing to the al ey, signaling that he wanted to advance first. Jamie shook his head; Mace might be the marine, but Jamie was the leader of the Shades. No way would he let his brother take point in such a potential y dangerous situation. Jamie adjusted the dagger in his palm, securing his hold on it. He’d go right for Thrastikas’s throat; Mace could take down the demon’s little sidekick. Turning, he met Mace’s stare and showed him the middle finger

—it was their longstanding joke, their way of indicating the leader was going after the biggest, baddest demon dude in the mix.

Mace gave a curt nod, and Jamie swept into the al ey—and crashed right into the thick barrel chest of Thrastikas himself. Neither of them expected the impact, and it sent Jamie sprawling onto the al ey’s pavement. Thrastikas staggered, his feet momentarily tangled in the heavy metal chains about his legs.

But his minion, despite being smal and clearly of the dumber, lower variety of demon, moved fast. Perhaps because he was so little, Jamie didn’t have time to process, but the critter flung itself at Jamie’s head, beating him with its scaly wings.

Jamie swatted at it, lashing out with his dagger, and the acrid-smel ing demon slumped lifelessly on Jamie’s chest. He flung the wicked thing across the al ey, rol ing to his feet. Mace had Thrastikas by the leg chains, the demon prone on the ground.

Thrastikas lashed at Jamie with a clawed foot, drawing blood from Jamie’s calf. He kicked back in return, raising his dagger. It was time to finish this foul demon once and for al . The atonement might help, too. Might provide Jamie an opening with Sunny . . . or at the very least, earn him points for good behavior.

“I’m going to finish this. Now,” Jamie said.

Mason tightened the chains in his grasp. “I’ve got him, bro.”

Jamie lunged forward, prepared to slice the blade across the demon’s throat, but as he moved in for the kil , Thrastikas used his chain-bound legs to knock Mace across the al ey with a painful cry. That one moment of distraction was al it took; right as Jamie lunged, the demon’s massive wings unfurled and he soared heavenward, clanking chains swinging in the air.

Mace groaned, rol ing onto his side protectively. “Oh, man, he nailed me in the bal s. Hurts like a mother.”

Jamie knelt beside him, stil searching al around the al ey and the street for any sign of their enemy. But both Thrastikas and his minion were gone. He’d missed the real action he’d come here for, and now Mace was going to need a little recuperation time. Maybe that was a sign he should study the lore for more ideas. After al , he would be seeing Sunny again in just a few more days, and he had a lot of work to do between now and then if he hoped for any chance of a relationship with her.