“You need to go with them.”
“I can’t. Simon,” she held up her hand when he started to protest. “I made a promise, and if I can get them clear, I intend to keep it.”
“Even after what he did to you?”
“Especially after what he did.” With a sigh, she lowered herself to the bottom stair, dizzy again. “That rage inside him will just get worse, until he lashes out. And the punishment for that—I can’t leave him to that, not when I can prevent it. So, will you help me?”
Simon sat beside her, rested the shotgun across his thighs. “What do you think, sweetheart?”
Smiling, she leaned against him, relishing his friendship, his acceptance.
“Thank you.”
“So,” he said, meeting her eyes. “What’s the plan? I know you have one.”
“How do you feel about cat and mouse?”
“Depends. Which one am I?”
She laughed, fought the urge to take his hand. “I’m afraid you’re the mouse.”
“Figures.” Standing, he moved out of sight, returning with a roll of paper in his hand. “I snooped while you were off getting beat up by your angel.” He handed her the roll. “Floor plans.”
“Oh, Simon—you genius.”
“So I’ve been told. Are we safe here for a few?”
“Give me a minute.” Claire climbed the stairs, still surprised by her healthy leg. Whispering, she drew a sigil on the door, diverting anyone who walked near it. She wasn’t sure how long it would last, or if it would work at all, but it was better than hoping. “Okay.” She moved back down the stairs. “Let’s see the—what?”
Simon stared at her leg, then at her. “How.” He sounded like he already knew.
“Zach. He’s not a monster, Simon.”
“Just a pissed off angel who wants to become human. Right.”
She touched his wrist, the muscles under her fingers taut. “I know you don’t believe—”
“How can I, Claire?” Retreating, he paced into shadow, then stalked back to her. “What you tell me, what I see flies in the face of everything I believe. Everything I have placed my faith in. How can I reconcile that? It’s hard enough with my gift, knowing I am more oddity than priest to many of the people who walk into my church—”
“That is not true.” She stepped to him. “I saw how Regina looked at you. She trusts you, believes in you. As a man of God. I’m pretty damn certain she’s not the only one. I happen to be right there with her.” He blinked, surprise in the clear green eyes. “I trusted you the moment you knelt in front of me in the Huntsville police station. And I trust you more now. I trust you to help me save my best friend, and two innocent people.”
“Claire.” He took her hand, squeezing it. She held on, relief spreading through her. She had taken a big chance, facing off with him, but she had to be certain she knew his frame of mind. Letting out his breath, he freed her, handed over the shotgun. “I don’t believe the mouse runs around armed to the teeth.”
He pulled a small pistol from an ankle holster, reached around and produced a long knife sheathed in leather. She started to laugh when he dropped half a dozen other weapons at her feet.
“Were you a Boy Scout as well?”
“Got it in one. Be prepared served me well. Now,” he eased the plans out of her grip, knelt on the floor and unrolled them. “What trap is the mouse going to lead the cat into?”
*
Claire checked for any sign of Zach, then motioned Simon up the stairs.
“You have the sketch of upstairs?”
“Yes, Mom.”
She smiled, touching his wrist. “Between you and Annie, I’ve racked up enough smart comebacks to last me the rest of my life. No—don’t take it back. It’s what I enjoy about both of you.” She retreated before embarrassment hit. “Avoid confronting him—he’s stronger than you think, and more angry than the first time he blasted you.”
“Right.” Simon ran one hand over his sun-tipped hair. “I’m still feeling that one. You get them out as fast as you can. Let me deal with keeping him off your back.”
They inched around the door, and Simon halted. Looking past him, she saw the reason. The shotgun, sticking out of the far wall like an abstract sculpture.
“Your angel?”
“A misunderstanding.”
“Right.” He leaned in, kissed her forehead. “For luck,” he whispered. “Now get.” Shotgun raised, he headed for the stairs.
Claire rubbed her arms, feeling a sense of foreboding as she watched him climb up and out of sight. The last thing she wanted to do was put him in the way of danger, but being her friend seemed to come with that condition.