Rebel Angel: A Sainted Sinners Novel (35 page)

For now, this was…
perfect
.

K
irael lay
quietly and feigned sleep, waiting for Vesper to drift off.

All he wanted to do was fall asleep holding her, but there was something he needed to do first. Once he was absolutely sure that she was out cold, he gently rolled Vesper onto her back. Getting up, he covered her with a blanket before grabbing some clothes.

This is a little too familiar
, he thought.
This time I’m coming back before she wakes up, though.

Considering what he was about to do, Vesper would no doubt forgive his short absence. His words to her earlier were true, though: he did intent to be present, to give up his obsessive search for penitence.

For Vesper, for himself. This would only be the firming of his resolution. Though the idea had only come to him as he lay in bed with Vesper, inhaling her sweet scent, he knew it was the right thing to do.

He was down the stairs in a matter of minutes, out in the still-humid New Orleans night air. There was nothing for it, this close to the bayou. Locals just got used to the way everything stuck to their skin, the dampness of it all.

Heading straight down to Jackson Square, he scanned the moonlit pedestrian walkway in front of the Cathedral. Across the way, he spotted a scraggly-looking figure pushing a shopping cart full of soda cans, covered head to toe in a heavy, hooded coat despite the weather.

“There you are,” he said, mostly to himself.

Kirael made a beeline for the man, waiting until he got a few paces away to call out, “Arturos!”

The figure slowed, glanced back. Even from here, in the dark, Kirael could tell that Arturos wasn’t close to looking human. The odd Fae creature blinked big yellow eyes at Kirael, looking like a startled owl.

For the life of him, Kirael couldn’t figure out how Arturos passed every manner of human, all day and all night, and no one ever found him out. Arturos leaned forward, his long white beak appearing in the moonlight.

It was the most of Arturos that Kirael had ever actually seen.

“Call Arturos?” the Fae asked, his voice like the creaking of a thousand tree branches. His beak clicked when he spoke, and for some reason the clicking itself made all Kirael’s hair stand on end, a sure sign of a dangerous creature.

“Yes. I have a trade,” Kirael said, determined.

Arturos didn’t move for a long time. When he inclined his head, Kirael let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“What trade?” Arturos asked.

Kirael held out both his palms and closed his eyes, summoning the Book of Names. When he looked up, he could see nearly all of Arturos’s beak, and the tip of his pointy white chin.

“Book. Have Book,” Arturos clicked. “Trade Book.”

“Yes,” Kirael said.

“Give Book. What Trade.”

“You want to know what I need in exchange?”

Arturos dipped his head. “What Trade, Angel.”

Angel
. It had been so long since anyone had called Kirael that, the word took him off-guard.

“There is a girl, a woman. She is at Mere Marie’s house. Do you know the place?” he asked.

Another dip of Arturos’s head.

“She is sick. Drugs, who knows what. I need her to stop.”

Arturos was still. “Change Girl Heart?”

It took him a moment to parse that. “Yes, that’s what I’m asking. I want you to change what’s in her heart, make her want to get better. Can you do that?”

Silence. Painful, terrible silence. Then, “Give Book. Trade Book. Girl Want.”

“Yes,” Kirael said, his relief immense. Then he hesitated. “And one more thing.”

“Want.”

It was impulsive, but… “A ring. From Keil’s on Royal Street.”

“Ring.”

“It’s a canary diamond with some kind of sapphires. Massive. Used to belong to Mary Queen of Scots or something.”

Arturos blinked his big owl eyes. “Ring. Trade.”

“You will heal Mercy, from the inside out. And deliver the ring to me, sooner than later. And in exchange, I will give you the book. Do we have a deal?”

He couldn’t see much past the very tip of Arturos’s beak, but Kirael could’ve sworn that the Fae
smiled
.

“Trade. Deal.”

Kirael held out the book, wondering what Arturos’s hands looked like. He’d never know, though; Arturos crumbled like a column of ash, a sudden brisk wind sweeping him into a swirl of air.

In a blink, the swirl covered the book. In the next instant, Kirael’s hands were empty. Before him, Arturos’s shopping cart stood, abandoned.

“Okay…” Kirael said, shaking his head. “I suppose we’re done, then.”

Turning back toward his flat, Kirael couldn’t stop the smile on his lips.

Vesper
. He was already imagining crawling back into bed with her, the sleepy sound she might make, the feel of her body pressed against him.

Since the moment of the Fall, he’d been ungrounded, lost.

For the first time since that terrible moment, Kirael knew exactly who he was, where he was going. He was going to be with Vesper, and though the apartment itself meant almost nothing to him, a singular thought rang though every fiber of his being.

He wasn’t going to a particular place. Rather, he was going to where
she
was.

Kirael was going
home
.

V
esper laced
her fingers with Kirael’s, swinging their hands between them as they walked. He nodded at a bunch of ducks flying overhead, a common enough sight in City Park.

“I don’t get your thing with birds,” she said.

He just winked and shrugged, unworried as they continued their stroll, cutting across one big corner of the park.

“I like this walk,” he said. “It’s nice to get off the Canal Streetcar, then see a little of the park, and then there’s Vargus’s house.”

“Yep. It’s pretty amazing,” Vesper agreed, although they both knew she wasn’t talking about the location.

They made it to Vargus’s a few minutes later. A familiar figure sat on the front stoop of Vargus’s little shotgun, head down, intent on…

“Are you shelling peas?” Vesper called as they crossed the yard.

Mercy’s head snapped up, and she grinned. “Yep. They just came out of my garden last night.”

“Ridiculous,” Vesper said. She eyed her sister; Mercy’s dark hair was growing long and dark and pretty. She was finally filling out a little, too. More chic model and less skeleton lady.

It was a sight that Vesper had never thought to see again. Each time she laid eyes on the new, improved, sober Mercy, she wanted to kiss Kirael on the mouth. Well, she always wanted to kiss him, but this was a special kind of grateful, thank-you kiss.

After all, he’d made this happen. Mercy had been the one to struggle through the withdrawal and continued therapy sessions, but… none of it would have been possible if Kirael hadn’t given up the Book of Names.

She glanced at Kirael, squeezed his hand, and then reluctantly released him. Just for a minute, just to hug her sister.

Good god I am so clingy lately
, she thought with a sigh.

Mercy set the peas aside, rising and brushing her hands off on her apron. She opened her arms, beckoning to Vesper. “C’mere.”

They hugged, Vesper’s heart starting to overflow. When she stepped back, she had to blot at her eyes, trying not to sniff.

“What’s wrong with you?” Mercy said, giving Vesper the eye.

Vesper flushed. “Nothing. Just… emotional. You know. I’m just… I’m so glad that you’re here, and…”

“Oh, don’t start crying,” Mercy sighed, patting her on the shoulder. “Kirael, what’s up with her?”

Vesper glanced at Kirael, who merely raised a brow and a shoulder at once, unconcerned. “Not a thing, as far as I can see.”

Vesper blushed even harder. “Quit.”

“I like it when you get red in the face,” he said. “No shame here.”

“Vargus!” Mercy yelled over her shoulder. “They’re here!”

Vargus bent low to poke his head out the front door. “Bout time. I’m starving.”

“Ugh, werewolves,” Mercy said, flapping a hand. “You ever want a roommate who will eat you out of house and home, a werewolf’ll do the trick.”

“I will remind you that I own this property,” Vargus said, amused.

Mercy paid him no mind, turning back to Vesper. “You look dead tired. You could have called to cancel, you know. Did you work late?”

Vesper glanced at Kirael, feeling a dumb smile creepover her face. That was her life now, thrilled one minute, crying the next, then back to thrilled. It was like her heart was on a roller coaster, every waking second.

Kirael just nodded at her. Vesper fiddled with her ring, feeling self-conscious.

“I’m going to take some time off, actually.”

Mercy had turned to head back inside, but now she paused. She came back around slowly, looking suspicious. “Why?”

“Well, because… I won’t be able to work. For about seven more months, and then a while after that,” Vesper said, pulling a face.

“Or never,” Kirael chimed in.

Vesper raised a hand, shutting him down. He’d wanted her to quit her job from day one, this was just more incentive for him to insist.

“Wh— oh. Ohhhhh,” Mercy said, pressing her fingers to her mouth. She looked at Kirael, who nodded. “Oh, really?”

“Really, what?” Vargus asked, leaning against the door frame.

“A baby, Vargus,” Mercy said, giving him a look.

Vargus’s jaw dropped, which made Vesper crack up.

“You— really?” he asked, echoing Mercy.

“Yes, really!” Vesper said. “People have babies, Vargus. It’s a thing.”

His shock was comical, but not as comical perhaps as the way Vesper’s own mouth dropped open when Vargus grabbed Mercy by the waist, swinging her up, and then kissed her.

“Oh, put me down,” Mercy said, sounding flustered. Now it was Mercy’s turn to blush, it seemed.

Vesper was sure she must look the very picture of surprise, right then.

“Wait, are you two…” she asked, pointing back and forth between Vargus and Mercy.

“Oh, hush, don’t worry about us,” Mercy declared. “Now come inside and sit down to dinner. I want to hear every single detail.”

“Okay, okay!” Vesper said with a laugh.

“I mean it, Ves. You never listen to me, but you’d better listen to me now…” Mercy said, her voice trailing off as she headed inside.

Vargus followed her, leaving Kirael and Vesper alone for a final moment before dinner.

They looked at each other, grinned, and kissed one more time. Then Kirael took her hand, leading her inside to dinner — and a truly happy
family
meal.

V
ivian is a paranormal romance writer
, and the author of the Sainted Sinners, Alpha Guardians, Red Lodge Bears, Werewolf's Harem, and the Louisiana Shifters series. She likes to write about troubled, deeply flawed alpha males and the fiery, kick-ass women who bring them to their knees.

Vivian's lasting motto in romance is a quote from a favorite song: "Soulmates never die."

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