War-N-Wit, Inc. – MeanStreet, LLC (16 page)

“Good enough. Our business is done, then. As soon as you get them out of here.” Kaxchotx glared at me a minute and then thought better of it. He turned away and pulled a little square device out of his pocket and punched a button. Demon cell phone, obviously.
He began barking orders.

“So, darling. Let’s get all of you out of here.
”

I pointed back to the freed human slaves.
“G, those poor people—”

“Kaxchotx, I need to have some staff come pick these survivors up.
You’ll let ‘em in? And back out?”

Kaxhotx hesitated.
Then he looked at me. “I’m sure G can always get me back through again, should the need arise.” I said sweetly.

He blanched. “Absolutely, Gabriel. Get as big a team as you need.
Safe passage guaranteed.”

Gabriel grinned and p
ulled out his cell. “Yo! We need a Recovery Unit over here. Mark my present coordinates, I’m about to be moving. Safe passage in and out guaranteed. And have a big crew of Healers waiting in the ER back at MeanStreet. We’re looking at overtime hours here.” He pocketed his phone and gestured us to gather in close. “And let’s go. I ain’t kidding, Chad and Spike gave me a deadline.”

Lucifer
’d been shocked into silence for a few minutes. His face was parchment white.

“Gabriel,
you aren’t really going to let them do this to me? Are you?”

“Raphael
warned you, Lucy.
He who laughs last, laughs loudest.
But trust me. I’m not laughing.” Gabriel’s eyes were bruised with grief. Sorrow lived in every line of his face. “Goodbye, my brother. I’ve always loved you. I always will.”

Gabriel wrapped his arms around me. Michael wrapped his arms around Mom. Raphael gathered Stacy close. Wings sprouted from angel and archangel backs. They fluttered and then
beat furiously, forming a rushing vortex. And just like that, we crossed into the No-Man’s Land between dimensions, those mighty wings setting a course home. Halfway across the void, flashing lights to our left signaled the crossing of the Recovery Unit, half-a-dozen winged denizens throwing light into darkness. Angels fly among us. Everywhere.

* * *

“Okay, that’s it! G said half-an-hour, it’s been thirty-one minutes. We’re going back in.”

Chad threw open the door of Spike’s truck.

“Wait a minute, son!” Bob reached out a restraining hand. “They might’ve found those bodies by now.”

“No, sir. No blaring sirens, no screams. Harold said it was handled. I believe him. And even if we walk back
into a full-scale investigation trying to figure out just what the hell those remains are, we’ve got to get to that box before anybody moves it.”

Spike threw his own door open and swung his legs out. Then he went still.
Completely. So did Chad.

“You feel that?” Spike asked.

“Yeah. You, too?”

“Oh, yeah. So you think—”

Cell phones blared simultaneously. Tailored ring tones.
Black Magic Woman
on Chad’s.
Witchy Woman
on Spike’s.

“Thank God.
They’re home.”

* * *

A world and dimension away from last night’s visit to Hell, I stood at the buffet table set up in the Desert Trooper’s Clubhouse and surveyed the crowd.

Dr. and Mrs. Forrester danced in the middle of the
floor. Mom and Dad danced over to their left. I smiled.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Chad said in my ear.
I sighed and leaned back against him.

“Ever hear of inflation?”

“Okay, I’ll up it to a dollar. Might go as high as ten. Whatcha’ laughing about?”

“Mom.”

“Oh, yeah. Love the outfit. Especially the t-shirt.”

Mom
decided that morning the black tee with the pink logo “Pretty Mama” was too demure and swiped one of mine. It was a tad tight, but that suited the “Hot Mama” blazing in red across the front. And yeah, she was. Black leather biker pants, jacket, boots and all. She’d even turned her nose up at the Beemer for the wedding procession through the Tunnel of Love Drive-Thru.

“Hell, no! You’re not sticking me in a
car
with all those bikes roaring! I’m ridin’ bitch with your Daddy!” she’d proclaimed.

“Perfect wedding,” I said.

“Yeah, it was. Just like ours, except for the extra hundred or so bikes riding behind.”

I laughed. “Yeah, it was a really
big
wedding.”

“Can’t say Vegas went as planned this time around either.”

“Nope, sure didn’t.”

“Then again, it sure wasn’t boring.”

“I’d kind of like to try boring. Just every now and then, for a day or two. Think it’ll ever happen?”

“We can dream.”

“Until the next one comes around.”

Chad’s cell phone vibrated against my back from his jacket pocket.

“You didn’t turn that off?”

“I don’t have to answer it.”

“Liar. Yes, you do. It’s the next adventure over the horizon. Go ahead. Answer it.”

“
War-N-Wit, Inc., Chad Garrett. How can we help you?”

The End.

Gail Roughton Books Published by Books We Love

Click the links to purchase for your Kindle

The Witch - War-N-Wit, Inc., Book 1

Resurrection - War-N-Wit, Inc., Book 2

The Coven - War-N-Wit, Inc., Book 3

The Color of Seven - Dark Series, Book 1

The Color of Dusk - Dark Series, Book 2

The Dark Series - A Books We Love Special Edition

About the Author

 
Gail Roughton’s spent close to forty years in a law office as a legal secretary/paralegal. During those years, she’s raised three children and quite a few attorneys. She kept herself sane by writing books, tossing each completed novel in her closet. She started a new personal chapter with the publication of the first 
War-N-Wit, Inc.
 novel, 
The Witch. 
Now multi-published, she still maintains she couldn’t have this much fun for free doing anything else
.
A cross-genre writer who spans the spectrum from comedy to romance to horror, even she never knows what to expect next. Special thanks to brain-storming buddy and cyberspace soul-sister Roseanne Dowell, steadfast
alpha
reader; to Graeme Smith, both for naming Micah during the writing of
Resurrection
and for the title of this book; to Jude Pittman and Jamie Hill, publishers of Books We Love, for their unflagging support and belief in their writers; and last but not least, to Michelle Lee, cover artist extraordinaire. Without her, there’d never have been a Micah to name in the first place.

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