Child of Mercy (15 page)

Read Child of Mercy Online

Authors: Lisa Olsen

Tags: #angels and demons

BOOK: Child of Mercy
2.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Bye,” I called after him, my annoyance rapidly fading.  “Sorry.”  Remiel raised a hand, but didn’t turn around or quit walking.  “God, this is turning into the weirdest night…”

“You’re not wrong there,” Parker sighed.  “Come on, let’s get you home.”

I didn’t argue as Parker led me to his shiny, silver Camaro, slightly subdued as I still worked on processing everything that went down.  In my own little world, I tried to puzzle through what might be in store for me.  If I’d been part angel before… what was I since I had
all
of Raziel’s Grace swimming around inside of me?  Was I human at all anymore?  Would the skirts upstairs send another Angel of Death to try and kill me again?  Would they send an army? 

Lost to deep thoughts, I didn’t notice right away when Parker turned off in the wrong direction.  Gradually, I looked past my reflection in the window to the street outside, my brows drawing together as I peered into the darkness.  “I thought you said you were taking me home?”

“I did, but I didn’t say whose home, did I?”

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

In all the times I’d hung out with Parker, I’d never been to his place.  I sort of envisioned it as a James Bond type swank pad with a round bed, a bar that appeared as if by magic, and a fireplace that lit with the push of a button.  I knew he had money and I knew he liked the finer things in life, if his clothes and car were any indication.  Plus, he had a reputation as a player and I figured he’d want a place to impress the ladies. 

That’s why I had no idea where the hell he had in mind as he pulled into one of the older neighborhoods about a twenty minute drive away from the club.  Mature trees and hedges lined the streets, mostly roomy Victorians and Craftsmans mixed with smaller bungalows, none of them looking like they’d been built in the past seventy years or more.  Turning down a narrow street, he signaled in front of a large, weathered Craftsman.  The windows dark and dingy; I couldn’t make out much more than decaying gray paint and rotting eaves above the front porch.

“You decided to take me to a haunted house?  It’s a little early for Halloween, isn’t it?”  My brow rose skeptically.

“Funny.”  Parker didn’t say anything else as he pulled past the house to a detached garage, hitting a remote clipped to the sun visor.  The door opened to reveal a newer building, half empty for the car and half full of construction equipment.  Everything from doors to drywall. 

“This is your place?” I asked, following him up the steps to the rear of the house that opened into the kitchen. 

“It’s all mine, lock stock and leaky plumbing.”  He tossed his keys onto the counter.  Actually, strike that, it wasn’t a counter exactly.  The kitchen was half torn apart, only the cabinets by the sink still in place.  A modern stainless steel fridge sat in the middle of the room blocking half of the cabinet doors though.  The “counter” he’d tossed his keys on was an old door set up on sawhorses functioning as a counter/table, littered with common kitchen objects.  

“Wow, this place is um… it’s…”

“It’s a work in progress,” Parker admitted, eye sweeping the littered room.  “I bought it for a song though, and it’s coming along nicely.  Come on, I’ll show you the parts I’ve already finished.” 

He took me through an equally battered formal dining room to the living room which actually looked pretty nice.  No peeling wallpaper in that room, the walls were painted a soothing sage green, the wood trim a crisp white.  Dark mahogany floors gleamed, warming the space up nicely.  A flat screen TV hung over the fireplace and a worn but comfy couch faced it.  No decorator touches like at Adam’s place, but it looked lived in.  “Hey, you did all this?  It’s nice.”

“All by my lonesome.”  A note of pride rang in his voice and I flashed him a smile.  It’s funny how you can know someone for years and not really know them.  

“I didn’t realize you were so handy.” 

“You know I’m good with my hands,” he winked, and I gave him the requisite roll of the eyes.  There it was, same old Parker. 

“Now I know who to call if anything breaks in my apartment.”

“Anytime.  Come with me, I’ll show you the best part.”

I let him drag me up the creaky stairs, hoping I wouldn’t fall through a weak board at any moment.  Despite the squeaks and groans, the house seemed pretty solid though, and I followed him into the master bedroom.  The walls and floors were done in that room too.  The bed was messy, yesterday’s clothes lying in a heap.

“Sorry, wasn’t expecting guests.”  He kicked the mess into the closet and shut the door.

“And here I thought you always prepared for unexpected guests, in here of all places.”  I shot him a teasing grin, poking my head into the bathroom. 
There
was a room I could spend some major time in.  Refurbished in a period style, the old tile had been painstakingly restored, and a large framed mirror hung over the pedestal sink.  What drew the eye was the enormous clawfoot tub, the kind you can sink in up to your eyeballs, and I couldn’t help a lustful sigh. 

With very little prompting, Parker shared the rest of the plans he had for the house.  There were four other bedrooms and a full basement, though it wasn’t finished.  He didn’t show me the other rooms and I assumed they were in rough shape like the rest of the house.  Taking me back down to the kitchen, he painted a picture of quartz counter tops and warm cherry cabinets.

“Do you even know how to cook?” I asked, as he went on about the six burner gas stove he’d ordered. 

“That’s beside the point.  If you’re going to do something, you might as well do it right.”

“A good lesson in life,” I agreed, letting him lead me to the bottom of the stairs.   

“Listen, why don’t you go up and get some rest?  You must be tired.”

“Trying to get me into your bed?” I raised a brow.  “Typical.”  I seriously thought about taking a dip in his bathtub though, but I wasn’t entirely convinced I wanted to spend the night. 

Parker’s chuckled over my lame joke.  “It’s the best bed in the house, with or without me in it.”

“I’m not quite ready to sleep yet, so you go ahead if you’re tired.  I’ll just go sit on your couch and watch TV for a while.  You don’t mind, do you?  I’ll keep it low.”  I assumed not since he’d brought me over. 

“I’ll stay up with you.”

“No, it’s late.  You go on up, I’ll be fine here.”  I didn’t feel tired at all, even though I’d been pretty wiped out after my shift at the club.  Raziel’s Grace must have zapped the fatigue away. 

“Merce, I don’t have to be at the club until after four tomorrow, I think I can handle a late night.  Besides, I normally take a while to unwind after work, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do,” I admitted.

“Good, then park it.”  He turned me by the shoulders and marched me to the sofa.  “Here, find something good on.”  He tossed me the remote, a rare move for a man in my experience.  “I’m gonna grab a beer, you want anything?  Coffee, tea, warm milk?”

Ugh, for warm milk…
  “You wouldn’t happen to have any decaffeinated tea would you?” 

“It so happens that I do.  Chai okay?”

“Very okay,” I nodded, settling into what would be my favorite spot on my own couch.  While I heard him pushing buttons on the microwave in the kitchen, I surfed through the channels with the fancy remote that showed me a preview of everything on.  Parker had every channel known to man and there were a few movies I wouldn’t mind catching the end of.  I settled on one with regency period costumes figuring he’d veto it when he joined me, but Parker didn’t bat an eye at my choice when he set our drinks on the coffee table. 

“I think that one’s on demand this month if you want to start it over from the beginning,” he commented, dropping into the spot on the opposite end of the couch.  I scooted my feet out of the way to make room for him, but he picked them back up and set them on his lap once he was settled.

“No, I’m good, I’ve seen it before.”

“I have to say, I don’t get this movie.”

“I’m surprised you’ve even seen this movie.”

“It was on once while I was doing something else,” he shrugged.  “Like I said though, I don’t get it.  She’s in love with him, right?”

“Yep.”

“And he’s still in love with her, even though she broke his heart a long time ago, right?”

“Yep.  What’s not to understand?”

“So, what’s with all the dancing around it?  Why not ask her out?”

“Because they didn’t do things that way back then.”  I would have said more, but Parker picked up one of my feet and started massaging it absently.  Distracted by the action, I tried to pay attention to what he said. 

“Okay, not ask her out then, but why not write her love letters or send her some posies or whatever shit they did back then?  Talk to her father or something?  He’s got money now, he’d make a good match or whatever her family’s looking for.  And her, she won’t even look at him most of the time.  It’s like she’s afraid of her own shadow.”  He shook his head in disgust.  “Those two deserve to be miserable if they won’t fight for what they want.”

He obviously paid attention the last time he’d watched the movie because that pretty much summed it up.   It wasn’t until the last ten minutes of the story that they admit their feelings for each other.  “Not everyone thinks they deserve a shot at happiness,” I replied, thinking that applied to more than the movie we watched. 

“That’s a pile of crap.  Nobody gives you happiness, you have to go out and find it for yourself.”

I didn’t know what to say about that, and we fell to watching the movie, his hands still moving over my feet. 

“That feels amazing,” I breathed after a while, sinking lower on the couch. 

“Told you I was good with my hands.”  He gave me a lopsided grin across the couch, his hands moving higher over my ankle. 

The romantic movie, a warm cup of tea, the subdued lighting, a massage… “Are you trying to seduce me?” I wondered aloud, losing a little of my calm.

“Why, is it working?”

“Parker…”

“Relax, angel, I’ll behave,” he chuckled, switching to my other foot.  “I won’t touch anything above the ankle unless you ask me to.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“But all you have to do is ask…”  His lips twitched as he returned his attention to the TV. 

I did feel a lot more relaxed by the time the end credits ran, both from the soothing cup of tea and Parker’s magic fingers.  True to his word, he didn’t try anything else, just laid his arm across my ankles when he got tired of rubbing my feet.  When the last song faded, he switched off the TV.

“Sleepy yet?”

“No, not really,” I admitted, wondering if he’d suggest going up to bed again.  I wasn’t clear on the sleeping arrangements he proposed, but it was clear from what he said next he wasn’t thinking about that. 

“Alright then, how about you fill me in on what really happened with Ben the last time you saw him?”

“Oh, you remembered that, huh?”  It seemed like a different night that Detective Santiago visited the bar looking for Ben.

“Yeah, something about that stuck with me.  So, let’s hear it,” he prompted, turning to face me better. 

“Well, he sorta showed up at the rehearsal dinner and kidnapped me,” I began, hurrying through my narrative as best I could to downplay the danger.  Before I was halfway through the story, Parker was up pacing the length of the living room in agitation.  By the time I mentioned Lucifer, he looked ready to jump out of his skin and my words tumbled out faster, trying to set him at ease. 

Parker looked nowhere close to ease when I finished though, fingers running through his hair as he leaned against the fireplace mantle as if to steady himself.  “God damn it, Mercy, you can’t keep stuff like that to yourself.  Shit… you just let him go after that?  And now he’s out there somewhere, maybe planning to come after you again.”

“He won’t.”  I sat up straight, flinching at the anger in his voice.  “The evil’s all out of him.”

“Because
the devil
told you so.”  His tone spoke volumes and I held my ground.

“No, I saw it myself.  I told you, Ben’s harmless.”

“Yeah, so harmless that he managed to dope you up and…”  His words fell away as distress got the better of him and I rose to take his hand.

“Hey, I’m fine.  He didn’t hurt me, he thinks he’s in love with me.”


This time.
  You understand what a guy like that will do in the name of love, right?” His eyes searched mine and I dropped my gaze, fully aware of what Ben might have done through the sick filter of his derangement. 

“Yeah, I get it,” I said softly.  “It scared the hell out of me at the time.  But I got through it, and I really don’t think he’s out there planning anything else.  He probably just needed some time to get his head together after all the crap Azazael put him through.  Besides, Lucifer’s looking out for me in that respect.”

“And
that’s
supposed to make me feel better.”

“Parker…” I caught hold of his hand before he could get away.  “It’s over now, and I’m fine.”

He didn’t turn back to look at me, his voice tight with emotion.  “If anything happened to you…” I squeezed his hand when he didn’t say anything else and he looked back with a half smile.  “I think I’d go nuts, you know?” 

“You’re a good friend.”  I used the word like a shield because we both knew it couldn’t be more, and I saw the realization of that in his eyes.   

“Tell me the next time something big like that goes down, okay?  Friends do that.”

“I will, I promise.  I just didn’t want anyone to worry.”

“Christ, that’s what friends are for.”  He shook my hand lightly before letting go of it to pick up his beer, setting it back down again without drinking the warm dregs.  “I’d offer to move you in here to protect you, but something tells me you’d kick my ass for saying it.”

“Thanks, but you know I can take care of myself.”

“I know, but I’ll still worry.”

“Thank you,” I replied, thinking it was nice to have someone worry about me for a change. 

“Well, it’s late.  I think we should hit the hay, and before you argue with me I’ll remind you that you’re sleeping for two,” he pointed out.

Other books

13 Tales To Give You Night Terrors by Elliot Arthur Cross
Death Money by Henry Chang
Our Cosmic Ancestors by Maurice Chatelain
Wildfire by Roxanne Rustand
04. Birth of Flux and Anchor by Jack L. Chalker
El deseo by Hermann Sudermann
Pack Alpha by Crissy Smith
The Iron Ship by K. M. McKinley
Boy Kings of Texas by Domingo Martinez