Kiss & Hell (41 page)

“Dude,” its voice chastised, the tone rock steady and melodiously calm. “Chillax, horn dog.” When the voice took shape, it was in the form of a young man who didn’t look much older than eighteen. His hair, almost shoulder length, clearly kissed by the sun, swept over his forehead in a snaky wave of golden brown. The white puka shell beads around his neck enhanced his Hawaiian flowered trunks and golden berry tan.

He looked down at Clyde, who, shallow of breath, had wrapped protective arms around Delaney and he smiled—angelic and boyish. “Oh, dude! I’m so glad I found you. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you? Like, totally what seems like forevs. I’ve been all over New York, trying to fix this. Man, when you go for cover, you go deep—niiiice work, sensei.” He bowed with a wink.

Satan, with blazing crimson eyes, struggled against the force this boy had created. He peered back at Lucifer with wide, childish innocence, giving him a stern shake. “Man, you need to chill. You are up-
tight
, my friend.”

Delaney lay speechless on the floor, every nerve ending wracked with pain, but she grabbed for Clyde’s hand and gave it a weak squeeze. His big body shook from the effort it’d taken to get out of that bed. “Who are you?” Clyde asked.

The young man cocked his head to the left and held up a finger to quiet Clyde. His soft eyes then captured Satan’s. “Ya know, man, you’re always all het up. Can’t be good. So I have some advice—hear me out, Your Evilness. While I was looking for your
hostage
, I saw some pretty cool shows—even a coupla musicals—which mostly ain’t my thing. Bet if you caught, like,
The Lion King
you’d totally give up this evil gig and quit stressin’. Must suck to be you, all angry and ragin’ all the time, huh? So can’t be good for your cholesterol. Bet those levels are off the charts. Oh, and dude, you should totally check out Coney Island hot dogs. This close to heaven with sauerkraut on them.” He smiled a smile of benevolence, rubbing his stomach with childlike glee.

Satan writhed in his grip, yet he held on to him like he was holding up nothing more taxing than a helium balloon.

Now revived, Delaney struggled to sit upright, but it made her dizzy. She opted for vertical, slapping Clyde on the forearm with a weak hand and a shallow breath of her own. She ignored the strange man-boy, deciding to take the opportunity to give Clyde the hell he deserved before it was snatched from her again. Frustration welled in the pit of her belly. She was going to lose Clyde again, of that she was sure. Whoever this guy was, he had some serious power, and he was no friend of Satan’s.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done? I was dead. Dead was good, Clyde. It meant you’d have to forfeit all those flowers and text messages, you geek. If you’d have just left well enough alone . . . and now look. You’re right back where you started. Why didn’t you just go into the light, for God’s sake? The plan was for you to cross. How the frig did you manage to summon the kind of will it must’ve taken to get out of that bed? And do we have to do this all over again?” she almost sobbed. “ ’Cause I gotta tell ya, I don’t think I have it in me to yank that plug again. Which, by the way, smart guy, you weren’t a whole lot of help with. I was supposed to turn off the ventilator
switch
.”

Clyde gave her a weak, sheepish smile, kissing the hand that had swatted him, closing his eyes, and inhaling. “I know . . .”

The young man leaned down, holding Satan at arm’s length, and eyeballed Delaney, interrupting the rest of the rant she wanted to stick to Clyde. “My man, that was some rockin’ heroics on your part, gettin’ up out of that bed like you did—suh-weet. Totally impressed me with your dedication, and how you’ve been looking out for the wahine here.”

He stuck out his brown hand to Clyde to shake. “Okay, so here’s the deal. First, I’m Uriel, ya know, archangel? I’m the dude the big guy’s gonna be amped with when he finds out about this mess. I so owe you a mondo apology, boss. I should have been here to pick up your soul when you popped free of your body. But, my friend, the surf was rad in Big Sur that day, ya know? I mean, outrageous. Because you were a surprise, I didn’t get the word about you until too late. My supreme bad. But seriously, who knew? Souls don’t just pop free every day of the week. That happens almost never. But it made ya free game for Mr. Evil here, and that makes me total slacker material—sooo sorry.”

Uriel . . . the Big Kahuna’s eyes and ears. So he
was
here to collect Clyde. And that meant she had to say good-bye to him all over again. Tee-rific. Son of a bitch. If there was ever an example of a time when a man didn’t listen to a woman, this was one of them.

Uriel held out a hand to her with a compassionate smile, pulling her to stand, then righting her when she faltered with a strong grip. “I’m stupid sorry you got all wicked tangled up in this, Delaney. But I’ll take care of him.” He nodded his head in the direction of a helpless Satan.

Delaney reached out to steady herself, only to find Clyde right beside her, placing a hand on her waist.

Clyde lifted his chin, straightening his hospital gown with his free hand, and looked Uriel square in the eye. “Appreciate the help, but here’s where I’m at. If your job is to collect me, I’m not leaving Delaney until I know she’s safe. I want someone’s word—someone in charge—that she’ll be looked after or you’ll have to do far worse than he did to get me to leave.”

Delaney stood on tippy-toe and whispered in Clyde’s ear, “I know you don’t know much about Heaven and Hell, but here’s a tip. Shut up before you make this worse. Do you have any idea
who
he is? He’s an
archangel
. Think wings and halos and omnipotence. Biblical lesson number one—do not, and I repeat, do not ever tell him no.”

Uriel chuckled, slapping Clyde on the back with a good-natured thump. “No need to get hinky, boss. It’s all good.”

Good? No. This was anything but good. Instead of following her own advice in the presence of überangel, her frustration finally got the better of her.

She looked up at Clyde with blazing eyes. “And now, because of you, we have to do this all over again. Now my eyes’ll be all red and my nose, which gets ugly and splotchy, is going to run because I’ll be crying. How many ways can I define dead to you, buddy? What were you thinking getting out of that bed? I was going to meet you at the light. But no. You have to go all super Clyde on me and administer CPR. Is there anything you don’t know how to do? You’ve got nerve saving my life. I think you were just trying to get out of listening to Michael Bublé because now you have to go and I have to stay. Good job.”

Clyde kissed the tip of her nose, his eyes grim. “I promise to never save your life again.”

“Swear?”

“Swear it on a banana Slurpee.”

The panic, terror, complete helplessness she’d felt when Lucifer had hurled himself at Clyde battered at her again. The notion that he’d taken the chance to have his soul snatched back up and returned to the place he’d started, that he’d sacrificed himself for her, made her chest ache and warm simultaneously. “Why, why,
why
would you do that?”

Uriel leaned in between the two of them, his shiny eyes amused. “ ’Cause I’m thinkin’ he’s crushin’ on ya, and that’s crazy cool. So stop beating him down and listen to where we’re at. First up, Clyde, dude, get back in the bed—Vincent’s soul is outta here and you’re clear for takeoff. Then I want you to go to sleep. Tomorrow’s a big day. You’re gonna have a miraculous recovery, all unex plainable and medical mystery-ish. You got some bogus deal because I didn’t show up when I was supposed to, man. So I figure I owe ya. All ya gotta do is play along because making this just vanish would alter stuff I just can’t play with, okay?” He held out his fist, closed and facing Clyde, to seal the deal. “Let’s blow it up, dude.”

Clyde frowned at the angel’s hand, bewildered.

Dizzy and weak with gratitude and relief, Delaney wiped yet more tears from her face and showed Clyde what Uriel meant when he offered his fist. “Like this,” she said, knocking fists with Uriel, then spreading her fingers wide as she pulled back. “You know, to blow it up.”

Uriel chuckled. “Yeah, like that. Ya know, you’re one rad wahine, Delaney Markham. I owe you, too. ’Cause you saved Clyde’s soul—a bunch of souls, in fact. If we had club presidents for mediums upstairs, you’d be my nominee.”

Delaney reached out a hand to Uriel, letting her fingers find his, and squeezed with a weak grip, mouthing, “Thank you.”

“Now who’s glad I saved their life? I think you owe me a banana Slurpee, medium,” Clyde teased just before capturing her lips with a kiss. A kiss filled with promise—with the anticipation of things to come—with the thrill of discovery.

Her arms slipped under his, savoring this gift. The gift of opportunity. The gift of life.

Uriel’s grin was wide. “Okay, then, we’re coo’. Now you two knock it off and save that for tomorrow. Clyde—get back in that bed. I’ll see ya both someday on the flipside.”

Delaney helped a tired Clyde into the bed, tucking the blanket up under his chin, running a hand over his handsome face.

Before he did as Uriel commanded, Clyde held his hand out to Delaney and winked. She took it, clutching it with shaky fingers, pulling it up to her cheek.

“Close your eyes, man.” Uriel let his free hand glide over Clyde’s face. “Sweet dreams,” he whispered.

Clyde obeyed, and in moments, his chest rose and fell with easy breaths. Her heart shifted, thumping against her rib cage. Seeing that he was settled, she had a couple of things to clear up. One a huge concern, and one a niggling worry. She turned to Uriel. “Two questions?”

“Shoot.”

Delaney’s heart throbbed with painful thumps. “My friend Marcella . . . I know it’s a lot to ask after all this, but—I just need—I need to know she’s okay. I know she’s a demon, and that’s way bad in your book—like no-going-back bad—but she risked everything to help us. Don’t you guys have, like, a ‘time served’ program—something—anything . . .” Her gaze went to Satan’s narrowed, angry eyes and fear seeped into her gut for her friend’s well-being. Casting Uriel an imploring glance, she said, “He’ll hurt her—”

Uriel held up a hand and leaned in to whisper, “You know I can’t make promises like that, Delaney. She made a choice, wahine, and it so wasn’t the right one, but she’s the horned one’s territory and I can’t change that because it would screw up the balance of good and evil—or something like that. But I will promise you this—I’ll try to hook her up, and you’re gonna have to trust me enough not to ask anything else.” His gaze was pointed when he added, “Try to rest easy where your BFF is concerned, okay?” Then he smiled at Lucifer. “Now ask me question number two so I can get this monkey off my back.”

Delaney breathed a shuddered sigh of relief. Uriel’s eyes said far more than his words and she’d cling to them in the hopes that Marcella would be safe from Satan’s wrath. “Okay, question two. When he wakes up, is it going to be like all those stupid movies where he has no frickin’ clue who I am? I saw that in some movie once, and the poor guy had to start all over again because his woman didn’t know who he was. I have to tell you, I like him just like this. He gets that I have the gift of sight. No questions asked when some crazy ghost shows up in the middle of . . . well, you know. That would suck. He’s broken in.”

Uriel’s face wore understanding, his eyes read warm. “That would be so bogus, huh? Nah. He’ll remember. Promise. It’s the least I can do for screwing this up. Chill, everything’s good.” Uriel gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, preparing to leave.

“Wait, just one more thing. How did Clyde get up out of that bed? He was . . .”

“Dead? Yep, fo sho. Whew! It took me centuries upstairs and more levels than you have dogs to learn it, too. But it’s a trade secret, ya feel me?”

Delaney’s nod was grave, but her smile was warm. “Thank you. You have no idea how much . . .” She couldn’t finish. This gift—this “get out of jail free” card—had overwhelmed her.

Uriel winked. “Oh, I think I do. And now, I’m out.” He gave her the hang ten sign before sighing with displeasure in Lucifer’s direction. “And you, Dr. Doom, you and me, we got plans. How do ya feel about
Dream Girls
? It was righteous. Or maybe because you’re so bent all the time you might like something funny. You know, like ha-ha, Uriel stomped me again, funny?”

His voice trailed off, and then he and the devil were swallowed up by the velvety black of the night just outside Clyde’s hospital room window.

Delaney shuddered a breath, closing her eyes and bowing her head.
Thank you, thank you, thank you,
she said in silent gratitude before putting down the bed rail and stretching out beside Clyde. Her head found the spot on his chest where his heart beat in strong, satisfying pumps. She sighed with a contentment she’d never known before.

As the sun pushed its way through the big window in Clyde’s hospital room, the bright orange, settled among deep purple slashes, stirred Clyde.

Delaney sat up with a start, her heart jolting at first with fear, then fluttering to an even rhythm with relief when Clyde said, “So, ghost lady—does this mean I have to eat tofu while we listen to Michael Bublé?”

epilogue