“What if I can help?”
“Then I will call you on the cell phone you are never without. We are only a few blocks away, and I need someone to watch the shop while—”
“Fine.” He let out along-suffering sigh, made her smile. “Just keep me in the loop, okay?”
“You got it. I’ll stop by Lily’s, have her send you over a couple of her roast beef sandwiches.”
“Ah, bribery,” he said. She let out a burst of laughter. “I’ll take it.”
“Oh, I love you.” She cradled the back of his head, pulled him down for a kiss on the cheek. She really was short. “And I’ve missed you.”
“Me, too.” Before he could embarrass himself in front of Marcus he eased out of her grip and walked around the counter. “Can I get an extra-large sweet tea to go with those? Maybe some chips, a piece of carrot cake?”
“Why don’t you call in your bribe order?” Mom shook her head, still smiling. “Tell Lily I’ll be right there to pay the damages.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
She reached over the counter and patted his cheek. “Anytime, my son.”
He felt heat flare across his face. Ducking his head, he fiddled with the new shipment of incense until Mom and Marcus left the shop. With a sigh, he pulled out his cell and called in his order, then plopped on the stool, hunched his shoulders, and tried to figure out how to get over to Annie’s and still have the shop covered. He was smart—he’d figure a way—
The door opened; without the bell to announce, Zach moved into sight to greet whoever came in. It was too soon for the delivery—
He skidded to a halt when he recognized James.
“Son of a bitch!”
James didn’t even flinch. “Hello, Zachariah. I am here for my tarot lesson.”
“I’ll show you what to do with your damn cursed deck—”
Surprise flashed across James’ face just before Zach tackled him.
They slid across the floor, slamming up against the front wall. Zach punched him, the sharp pain that tore across his knuckles oddly satisfying. He swung his fist back for another blow, and froze, his rage switching off so fast he had to clutch the floor.
“What—” He shook his head, trying to remember why he lost his temper. His left hand curled around the tarot deck, the cards fitting themselves perfectly into his palm. His desire to do a spread, just a quick one, made his hand shake. “Table,” he muttered, getting to his feet. “No—counter will do. Closer.”
Like an addict holding his fix, he clutched the cards and moved to the granite counter. Heat pulsed off the deck, spreading up his arm. And with that heat came the memories. Of power. Of his absolute superiority over mere humans. He was an angel—God protect him, why did he give that up? To be a mortal, live a small, petty life?
Now he had the chance to change that, become what he was meant to be. A power among mortals, a power to be respected. To be feared. To be worshipped.
With the fever of need, he slapped down a three card spread, touching each card, tracing the outline of the figures that foretold his new path. His greater path.
“You understand now, Zachariah.” James moved to his side, laid one hand on his shoulder. The touch of an accent skimmed under his voice, familiar. Zach didn’t care enough to pursue it. All he wanted now were the cards. “They can give you back what you were, what you threw away. All you have to do is ask for it, believe it is possible.”
“Yes,” he whispered. The pain of being human, of feeling all the time, had become such a burden. Zach didn’t want this anymore. The small part of his mind screaming at him that it was all a lie was smothered by a hot, deep need. “I want it back. All of it.”
James smiled, took his hand. “Then it is yours, my friend.”
Fire seared Zach, burning along the scars on his back, where his wings had been. With a ragged scream he dropped to the floor, his hand sweeping the cards off the counter and down with him. One hand crabbed across the floor, clutched at them, the relief when he made contact—overwhelming. He’d almost lost his chance to be whole again.
SIX
“Annie?” Eric closed the front door, heading for the kitchen. He figured if his wife was anywhere, it would be there, drinking some of the chamomile tea she despised, and treating herself with a cookie or five. Claire had tried to hide her concern, but even through the phone Eric heard it, and it put him on edge. Annie didn’t need another struggle; this pregnancy had been difficult enough already. “Annie, are you here?”
“Can you give me five seconds to answer before you start harping on me?” Annie stalked into the living room, her anger so palpable he could almost see it. “Damn it—can’t you all just leave me alone?”