Beloved Purgatory (Fallen Angels, Book 2) (12 page)

I laughed. "How charming."

"I just made her seem really evil, didn't I?"

The air felt heavy. Tense. It mirrored the tightness
in my chest. I didn't understand what he was asking anymore, or
know why goose bumps flared over my bare arms on such a warm day.
"Well, being a little evil isn't such a bad thing."

His shoulders relaxed. The uncomfortable sensation in
my head dissolved.

And then the angel ruined it. "Devi isn't wearing
her necklace."

"She's with me," Oz whispered. His hands flexed at
his sides.

The angel continued, unaffected. "She's outside. If
she doesn't wear it and someone traces her--"

"Fine," Oz interrupted softly. He stuffed his hand
in his pocket, then held out his fist.

I shivered. "I can't put it on by myself," I
said.

"It's alright, Devi," the angel murmured as he
uncoiled the silver chain from Oz's grip. The demon didn't move or
look at me--not even when the angel looped it around his
fingers.

The angel stepped behind me and parted my hair so it
fell over each shoulder. The sun warmed the bare skin on the back
of my neck. Then I felt his fingers, even cooler than the
chain.

He fastened it. Oppressive weight settled over my
body. I hated how familiar it was beginning to feel--how Oz still
wouldn't meet my eyes, like I'd gone against some unspoken
taboo.

Then Oz looked up at me, and gave me his signature,
crooked smile. I didn't care that it wasn't as big as it usually
was, or that his eyes looked somewhat guarded. I smiled back at
him, grabbed his hand, then squeezed it so tightly that it almost
banished the lingering fear that things between us had irrevocably
changed.

***

Walking Princess was kind of like being in a
celebrity's entourage. The crowd parted. The people gawked. The
celebrity in question randomly stopped to lick herself.

Alright, maybe it was a little unusual for a real
celebrity to do that last bit in public--or at least I hoped
so--but I'd never received so much attention while out walking
before.

It had also never taken me over an hour to walk six
blocks. Princess loved to sniff things, receive pets, bathe in the
sun, and walk in circles.

I felt a little sorry for the angel, who didn't
appear to find this as amusing and adorable as Oz and I did. He
followed a few steps behind us. Every time I caught a glimpse of
him he was glaring at our joined hands. It made me grip Oz tighter
and laugh harder, so by the time we got to the Park Blocks, my hand
was sore and I had a mild headache.

People took afternoon naps on the benches. A few
fellow skippers from my High School were skateboarding down the
rails near the dried-up fountain. And a group of twenty-somethings
in 'Rasta garb' played hacky sack on the grass. Princess crouched
behind the statue of some guy riding a horse and studied their game
intently.

We were taking the long route
to
Powell's
, my
other favorite bookstore--but I couldn't tell Oz that because I'd
be cheating. "It's good that you're scoping out the competition," I
told him.

"No, there is just a book I wanted to pick up."

So
he
was the one who was cheating. Or maybe we both
were. Well, it didn't matter, because either way this was bad!
"You've gotta start thinking of
Morrison's
as a bookstore and not just
your place to crash."

"Why? I've already got the only customer I
want."

My cheeks flushed. That again? It was ridiculous, so
why did I get so giddy whenever he said it? "You have the business
sense of Princess. You'll chase after anyone who wiggles their
fingers at you."

He wiggled his fingers at Princess, who jumped into
his arms. "Yeah, pretty much."

Everything about him looked softer and yet a little
more dangerous in the shade--perhaps because the shadows of the few
orange and gold leaves that hadn't yet fallen brought out the green
in his eyes. A gust of wind blew some of his hair over his cheek.
It would have been really sexy if Princess wasn't gnawing on his
finger.

"Doesn't that hurt?" I asked, afraid to point in her
direction in case she'd decide to do the same to me.

"She's just teething."

"She's like eight, isn't she? Isn't she a little old
to be teething?" I frowned. "Wait a minute, do cats even
teethe?"

"I don't know. Maybe." He gave her a protective
squeeze. Princess purred and drooled on his hand, then jumped off
and stretched.

I brushed a few wild strands of hair behind my ears
as he began to say something.

Whatever it was, I didn't hear it. My mind even
drowned out the sound of his voice. I couldn't think of anything,
do anything, the moment I looked up and saw the angel staring back
at me.

Why did my eyes go to him? Why, whenever I lost my
focus for even one second, was he the first thing I always saw? And
why, once I saw him, could I not glance away? He leaned against the
trunk of a giant Oak, though I doubt he was tired. Spindly shadows
shifted across his face. Every part of him was so white, so silent,
so still. I didn't understand why looking at him reminded me of
clouds drifting over a violent, bruised sky.

A hand gripped my shoulder. "Devi?"

I jumped. "Sorry, just thinking," I said, trying not
to think about the worried look in Oz's eyes.

Oz nodded as he adjusted his grip on Princess'
leash. "It's alright. Let's go."

***

Oz bought three issues of
Street Roots
, the
newspaper written by the homeless, from a homeless guy
outside
Powell's
--one for me, one for him, and one for the angel. We took the
elevator to the top floor, and he picked up his "special book" from
the Rare Book room. It was wrapped in a brown paper bag and he
refused to tell me what it was, no matter how big my puppy eyes
got.

On our way back down the stairs, I pulled Oz into
the Red Room, behind a display case of devotional Hindu statues of
Shiva, Shakti, and Ganesh. "This is where I always come with
Kim."

"Oh really?" Oz asked.

"Yeah. We look for cheap books on magic stuff. Plus,
people in the metaphysical section always have the funniest
conversations."

Oz leaned against the shelves and raised his
eyebrows. "What kind of magic stuff?"

My breath caught in my throat. "Um,
lots of kinds," I said as I tried to inconspicuously position my
body in front of a book titled
Sex
Magic
right beside me.

"So you come here to eavesdrop and look up..." He
dipped his hand behind my back and pulled out the book I'd tried to
hide: "...sex magic?"

I tried to tell myself it didn't matter that my
evasive tactics had failed. After all, every book in the section
was basically about the same thing. That didn't make my cheeks any
less red, though.

"Hey, I never bought that book!" I whispered.

"Do you want me to get it for you, then?"

"No, I would prefer..."

I bit my lip. There were a few
non-"love" magic books--for example, one right next to me had a guy
with a goat head, a swarm of glitter-girl faeries, and a jolly
bearded man dancing around a tree that was on fire. The title
was
How to Communicate with Tree
Spirits
.

I doubted Oz would believe that Kim and I got
together to search for books on that particular subject. Plus, if
that cover was any indication, the 'communication' methods the book
suggested were a bit sketchy.

I decided to switch tactics. "You shouldn't be
talking about stuff like that with Princess around."

"Princess isn't paying attention."

I glanced down. Okay, he was right.
She was marking the
Occult/Magic
label on the bottom shelf with her
cheek.

Oz grinned and gave me another smoldering gaze. Was
it even legal to look at someone like that in public?

And then, the corner started glowing.

Oh no. "The angel," I whispered. He currently looked
like he was about to smite the demon.

Oz groaned.

"Don't be upset," I murmured. "I can't have books
like that anymore, anyways, since you told me I shouldn't work
magic on demons or other supernatural creatures."

He swallowed. "Do you want to cast a spell on
me?"

When I didn't answer, his eyes narrowed on my lips.
His hands found the underside of my wrist, right where my pulse
throbbed. "Do you want to make me yours? Do you want to make me go
insane without you?"

"That doesn't sound very nice."

"Magic isn't about nice. It's about what you want."
He looked down. Was he nervous?

It didn't matter. There was a need
in his voice that my body couldn't help but respond to, and it
really shouldn't have. There was a cat purring at our feet. And an
angel in the corner, glaring at us. I gripped his hands, all the
while thinking:
We're in a public space.
Now isn't the time
.

Then he whispered, as if at confession, "I wouldn't
mind if you did those things to me, you know."

I shivered as I inhaled far too quickly. "You
lose."

He glanced up, frowning.

"You said 'you know' first. That means you have to
do something I want, and you can't say no."

He moved closer to me. "Uh oh."

"What do you mean, uh oh?"

"You know," he murmured.

Jesus, were we back to saying that every few
sentences again?

"What do you want from me, Devi?"

I couldn't think. A delightful, delirious fog
filtered through my mind. His lips looked so soft--and they were
exactly as soft as they looked when he pressed them to the base of
my neck, and slipped a few fingers into my mouth, opening it
and...

The aisle began to glow.

The angel
.
He could probably read every one of my dirty, thoroughly
un-Christian thoughts. What was I thinking?

I put my hands on Oz's shoulders and blurted out the
first thing that came to mind. "I want you to buy me a doughnut," I
said.

Oz stopped, dazed. "What?"

"From
Voodoo
Doughnuts
," I stammered. "You can't say
no."

He stepped back and sighed. "That is profoundly
disappointing."

"Hey, it's what I want." I tried to sound nonchalant
and keep my eyes on Oz, not the angel. At least he'd stopped
glowing.

Oz ran his fingers through his hair. "I know it is,
which means I obviously wasn't doing a good job."

I didn't trust myself to respond to that. Is that
really what he thought? How could it be? My breath came too
quickly. My face was flushed. My arms felt so blissful they almost
ached.

"I'll get you your doughnut, but I'm
going to get this for you too," he said, raising up
Sex Magic
.
Then, he
gave me a small smile and held my hand chastely.

***

The line for
Voodoo Doughnuts
stretched all the way
around the block. I sent Oz to
Louie's
, the fish and chips place next
door, to get some takeout calamari and a treat for
Princess.

I didn't say a word to the angel
while he was gone. In fact, I did my best to pretend the angel
wasn't there. I mean, there was no good reason why, since if I
acknowledged him the people around would think I was crazy.
And thinking like this is starting to make me
doubt my sanity.

I could not have been happier to see Oz running up
the street with two little takeout boxes. His cheeks were a bit
flushed when he stopped beside me.

"You showed up just in time. We're almost
inside."

He opened the calamari box. "How's Princess?"

I grabbed a plump squid and dipped
it in tartar sauce. "She's great," I said, and she was.
She
couldn't see annoying
angels.

He set a prawn down on the pavement and Princess
immediately started lapping. When she'd swallowed it, she picked up
the exoskeleton in her mouth and carried it around as if she'd
caught it herself.

"Good job, Princess!" I laughed.

Oz grinned and held the door open as we wandered
inside.

The interior of
Voodoo Doughnuts
had the same cloying
and self-conscious color scheme as the suburban town in
Edward Scissorhands
. From
the Barbie pink ceiling hung a cheap chandelier. T-shirts, art so
bizarre it gave the velvet paintings at
Dixie's
a run for their money, and
handwritten signs were tacked onto the orange walls.

A perky guy with long bangs and an illegible message
on his t-shirt asked us what we wanted.

I pointed to a Virgin Mary doughnut.

"You don't want the penis-shaped one?"

I raised my brows. "Do
you
want me to get that
one?"

Oz paused thoughtfully. "I don't know how I feel
about it yet," he said as he ordered a Voodoo dozen to go and
picked out one of a guy being pierced in the stomach with a pretzel
for himself.

"He looks like he's in a lot of pain," I said.

Oz grinned and took a bite out of the head. "I know.
I felt sorry for him, so I wanted to put him out of his
misery."

I shook my head as we exited the shop. "So, who's
getting the one of Jesus being crucified?"

"I had Camael in mind when I bought it, but since he
can't eat I bet he'll give it to you."

I spun to face the angel. "You can't..."