Color of Angels' Souls (28 page)

Jeremy was soon lost in his thoughts, and from time to time quietly whispered words: “tongue,” “sword,” “red.” It worried him to see how tired the old Angel had looked. It didn't seem normal. When they all went to bed earlier that evening, Flint had looked tired, sure, but not so utterly exhausted.

Allison waved her hand in front of his face.

“You haven't heard a word I've been saying, have you?” she asked.

Jeremy gave her a confused look.

“I'm sorry. I was trying to figure out why the killer didn't regenerate his tongue if he was capable of making a sword for himself … after all, I was decapitated but I didn't show up here with my head stuck beneath my arm!”

Even though the idea was ridiculous, it still made Allison shudder. She hunched up her shoulders, and her breasts moved invitingly. Jeremy could feel the desire awaken within him.

“I don't have a clue, Jeremy; I'm exhausted. I was asking you if I could sleep with you, in your bed, since the killer destroyed mine.”

Jeremy suddenly looked as happy as a cat who'd just caught a tasty mouse, but Allison shook her finger at him menacingly: “No, no, don't get any ideas now! I've already been through enough for one day!”

When she saw he still hadn't suppressed his boyish grin, she knew it was best to insist.

“I'm serious, Jeremy. I like you a lot; it's true. I think you're irresistible and very handsome”—cool: She hadn't said “cute.” Jeremy would have hated it if she'd said he was “cute,” like that Mark guy she dined with the other night)—“but I'm not ready. Do you understand? Not yet. All of this, everything that's happened to me, is … is really … hard to digest. And … and I want to apologize. I'm sorry I pushed you away like that. It … I shouldn't have kissed you like that. It was wrong.”

Jeremy reassured her with a wave of his hand.

“You did the right thing—if not, I would have been chopped to bits! Can you imagine all the little pieces scurrying around the floor, trying to glue themselves back together?”

Allison laughed. He adored making her laugh. Jeremy stifled a sigh to hide his disappointment, regretting for about the thousandth time that he couldn't take a cold shower.

“I'll be a good boy, Allison; don't worry—even if you do drive me crazy!”

She blushed, but he didn't regret what he'd said. Because it was true: She did drive him crazy—with desire.

“Don't worry, you can trust me. Come on.”

He rose slowly from his chair, grimacing from the pain in his protesting muscles, which were still paralyzed by fear and the adrenaline rush. He still couldn't understand why his body reacted as if he were still alive. But as he considered the incredible urge he had to make love to Allison, he was suddenly thankful to the One who had created this universe (if such a creature actually existed).

He grabbed the pillows from Allison's room. She gave him a puzzled look, wondering what he could possibly be doing. It was only when he set them down in the middle of the bed, creating (with great regret) a boundary between the two of them, that she finally understood. She smiled: Jeremy truly was full of surprises.

She kept on the short dress (to Jeremy's great chagrin) that she had made with the ripped cover, and he chastely kept on the briefs that Lili had made for him. He would have liked to ask for a goodnight kiss (with hopes to get even more … Angels can dream too, can't they?), but Allison dropped off to sleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow stuffed with misty feathers. The pillow's contents must have influenced Jeremy as well, because he dreamed of golden and red Angels waging a horrible and relentless war against one another. He was troubled by the visions, because he hadn't seen any golden Angels since he'd passed over. Even when Flint and Lili had unfurled their gold and silver wings, their skin had remained blue. He awoke with a start, breathing heavily. Allison lay next to him, fast asleep. She was so pretty. He stared at her—just as he had done time and time again when she was still alive. She suddenly grunted softly, dispelling the romantic fantasy he had been reveling in, and he had to keep from laughing. He wished that she would wake up. That she would talk to him. That she would touch him. Oh yes, that she would touch him! He took a deep breath. No, they were dangerous thoughts … especially for Allison. He figured it would be best to turn his back on her, and he began thinking about the madman with his bright red sword again in order to stifle the feelings of desire he could feel stirring within him. But it was no use. Jeremy couldn't get to sleep. Despite his best efforts, the killer's face soon faded away and he saw Allison, looked deeply into those beautiful blue eyes, saw her smile, her full lips as they whispered, “I love you, Jeremy, I want you, and only you …” In his dreams.

When he woke up, he saw Allison's smiling face bending over him.

“Good morning, Angel,” he whispered, his voice filled with desire.

“Your eyes aren't even open yet and you're already chatting up the girls,” she laughed. “Let's go, sleepyhead! Flint's waiting for us.”

She was already dressed in a tank top and high-cut shorts that showed off her long legs. She handed him a larger pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Both were black.

“Flint gave me these clothes for you. He didn't think you'd want to put your suit back on.”

The new clothes brought Jeremy completely awake.

“Flint made us clothes?” he frowned. “How long have you been awake, anyway? Why didn't you wake me up?”

Allison's face clouded.

“I'm not really sure. I got up because I wanted to take another look at my bedroom and see if I could get a clearer picture of what happened last night with the killer. The evening dress that Flint made for me was still there, so I put it on, but it wasn't very practical. Then Flint came in. He transformed the dress right on my body, and then used a cushion to make your shorts and T-shirt.”

A pensive look came over her face.

“I can't wait until I can finally use these powers on my own, because it's kind of annoying to have to depend on other people. Anyway, then Flint and I talked while he was preparing breakfast. I kind of lost track of time. Then Lili came. She said she was going to come and wake you up, but I told her I would do it, and here I am.”

She didn't mention that she had quickly volunteered to come get him because she knew exactly how Lili would have woken him up, and she had decided (strangely enough, since she had pushed him away last night) that Jeremy was all hers. End of story.

But Allison didn't want to think about her feelings for Jeremy just then. With all the disarray she couldn't help but feel every time Flint gave her one of his smoldering looks, and the passion she could clearly see burning in Jeremy's eyes, Allison probably should have been flattered. So why did she feel so miserable then? Well, the fact that she'd been murdered just a day earlier might have something to do with it. She banished all these thoughts from her mind. For the time being, she and Jeremy had to survive. They would have time to figure out who was in love with who later … if ever.

Allison set the clothes on the bed while Jeremy mulled over what she'd told him. He didn't like it at all when she said she'd “lost track of time.” Had Flint clouded Allison's mind again? Jeremy didn't share his suspicions with her. He climbed out of bed, forgetting once again that he was naked, and a mortified Allison quickly scampered out of the room. He rolled his eyes. She was going to have to drop her Miss Manners routine at some point. Millions of Angels went about their business without any clothes on in the afterlife. And even more than that, he was hoping she would let him give her a kiss.

Then, just as he was about to pull the perfectly tailored black T-shirt over his head, he froze.

A golden light was gleaming on his body. For a second, he thought it must be a reflection from something in the room, but it wasn't. It was coming from his body. From his navel, actually.

It was shining like a gold nugget.

Jeremy swallowed with difficulty, terrified by this new discovery. What now? Was he going to turn into a golden statue? He touched the spot, but it felt the same as always, soft and warm. He breathed in and out tentatively. No, the spot didn't grow; nothing happened. Good. Actually … not so good, but he decided to keep this strange new development to himself. He still had the impression that Flint wanted something from him, and seeing the way the old Angel had been acting around Allison, it certainly wasn't to seduce him. Until he could figure out exactly what it was Flint wanted from him—or from them—he couldn't completely trust him.

He finished dressing with a heavy heart. When he walked into the luxurious dining room, he was almost knocked flat by Lili's radiant beauty. It was a bit hard for a guy to take before he even had his morning coffee. The Angel's beautiful breasts were enough to make him forget all about his belly button. But it was more than just her perfectly sculpted body, or her dazzling face with those pouting lips that would damn a saint. It was her overpowering personality. Just like with Flint, the charisma she emanated grabbed him by the throat and made it difficult for him to think straight. And yet, after the night he'd spent with Allison, he thought he'd been cured.

Not at all.

He said good morning and sat down, feeling a bit wobbly. To contemplate Lili was like drinking in beauty directly from its source. Her perfection was like the Mist: It was as if it could nourish you, fill you up inside. Allison saw the dreamy look in his eyes and elbowed him in the ribs. He snapped out of his trance and looked over at Allison, but there wasn't the slightest hint of reproach in her eyes. Only complete understanding.

Flint had put together something that looked an awful lot like croissants for breakfast, but this time there was nothing for them to drink. Jeremy tried one and let the Mist melt in his mouth. First came the feelings of ecstasy and joy, and then the explosion of tastes. Yes, it tasted like a croissant, but with the tastiest, creamiest butter ever, accompanied by the most perfect honey, and a slight taste of coffee that was so delicious it made him shiver. He wondered how Flint had managed to make such a mixture. Had he been collecting Mist from a baker?

When the first feelings of ecstasy passed, he started eating hungrily along with Allison. The two old Angels had already talked about yesterday's attack, but refused to say another word about it to Allison and Jeremy until they had finished their breakfast.

Once she had eaten her fill, Lili spoke first.

“What happened last night was quite out of the ordinary,” she said, laughing softly when she saw the ironic smiles on the two young Angels' faces. “Or should I say, even more out of the ordinary than what usually happens in our world. This red Angel would appear to be on a personal vendetta, and is so obsessed with killing you that he would even dare to enter the home of an Ancient to find you—something that is absolutely forbidden here. We are therefore going to track down your little red friend and make him regret his impudence,” she said, before adding softly: “Bitterly regret it.”

Her smile became hard and cruel, and the two young Angels swallowed hard in unison.

“That won't be necessary,” Jeremy said, looking over at Allison. “We're going to disappear.”

Lili and Flint froze. It was incredible to behold, as if they had stopped breathing, stopped existing even, and had turned into marble statues. Their charisma was gone. Was this the way the Ancients reacted when they were surprised?

Flint quickly came to his senses, and Lili set her hand down on the table. Jeremy was almost surprised that the two of them hadn't started crumbling.

“Disappear?”

“Yes. Your hospitality has been fantastic, but the killer knows where you live, and I don't want to put you in any more danger. If Allison and I disappear in the crowd, or even if we go live in another city, he'll never be able to find us. There must be thousands of places where we can live in peace. When I was alive, I had been so busy trying to be a financial wizard that I didn't get to travel much, but I would really like to see the world now that I don't actually inhabit it anymore.”

Although it was only a pretext to get away from Flint and Lili, Jeremy really did want to lay low for a while. And make some progress in his relationship with Allison. He had never found love when he'd been alive, and he'd be damned if he was going to let it slip away from him here in the afterlife. He had never felt what he did for Allison. He wanted to make her happy, protect her, and make love to her for all eternity, in some private place for just the two of them. He realized that he was becoming just as obsessed with Allison as he had been by his quest for power when he'd been alive, but he didn't care. And for that matter, conquering love seemed to be just as noble a pursuit as trying to earn tons of money. There was only one problem with his plan: He had forgotten to tell Allison about it before announcing it to Flint and Lili. Not too bright of him.

The Allison in question was now crossing her arms, and looked a tad upset. Who did Jeremy think he was, speaking on her behalf?

“I don't want to just
disappear
!” she snapped angrily. “I have a mission to accomplish. I have to make Ventousi put that drug on the market, to save millions of lives, and I need Flint to help me do it!” The old Angel looked pleased with himself.

“I don't even know how to make clothes for myself!” she continued. “I'll be one hell of an avenging Angel, running around stark naked!”

She was throwing a tantrum. Sometime later, Jeremy would realize that he had mistaken his own desire for reality.

“All that I meant,” he added, trying to make up for what he said, “was that we could always come back here or meet at Rose's & Blues. That way, our friends will be safe.”

He was trying to protect Allison from Flint's influence, but she certainly wasn't making it easy for him!