Wicked Kiss (Nightwatchers) (7 page)

I wasn’t positive, but I was pretty sure Bishop followed us
back to my house at a discreet distance.

I’d only been kidding before about him being my stalker.

He was definitely my guardian angel.

Chapter 7

So much had happened tonight, it was hard to believe it
was only a little after nine o’clock when we finally arrived at the small
bungalow I shared with my mother.

Home sweet home. I had to say, just the sight of the familiar
house helped calm my nerves. Even considering who was with me.

I’d lived here all my life. Until a couple years ago, it was
me, my mother and my father. Since the separation, it was just me and Mom. My
father lived in England now. I only saw him rarely. Even the emails had started
to come with less frequency than they used to.

It would make me sad if I let myself think about it too
much.

“Here we are,” I said, stopping at the end of the driveway. My
mother’s car was here. I guess she wasn’t working late tonight. Miracles
happen.

Cassandra had been very quiet the rest of the way here, as if
lost in her thoughts. Her expression revealed nothing about how she felt about
having her back broken by a gray...and now voluntarily sharing a house with
another one.

In the silence, I’d found it impossible not to think about that
gray’s victim. One moment swept away by a kiss from a sexy stranger, the next
feeling your life fading away to nothing. A kiss of death.

She didn’t have a chance.

I swallowed past the thick lump in my throat and tried to focus
on something else, anything else. I’d decided to tell my mother that Cassandra
was one of my friends from school. That her parents were gone for a few days,
and she was afraid to be alone.

Not perfect, but it would do. My mother would believe it. She
believed a lot of things without asking too many questions.

I let Cassandra into the house, eyeing her warily as she
brushed past me. She studied everything her gaze landed on as if assessing it
for a future report. The bamboo blind at the window, the colorful rug by the
front door. The framed photos on the walls, which no longer included my
father.

My mother pretended not to dwell on the divorce, but I knew it
hadn’t been her decision. My father hadn’t moved across the ocean
just
to work at the London branch of his law
firm...he’d moved there to be with a beautiful blonde British intern half his
age. He almost never emailed anymore and I couldn’t remember the last time we
talked on the phone.

I tried to follow Mom’s lead and not dwell on things like that.
But it made me understand my mother’s angst.

The sight of empty wine bottles lined up to go into the
recycling bin made me wince. Cassandra didn’t seem to notice, but I did. There
were way more this week than usual. And there were usually too many.

I wasn’t the only one in the family with a growing addiction to
something unhealthy.

“Sam, I’m glad you’re home,” my mother greeted me warmly as we
entered the living room. I wasn’t surprised to see that she held a large glass
of white wine. On her lap was a stack of papers she was going through. She was a
real-estate agent, a job she was good at and put long hours into, seven days a
week. I used to complain—to myself, to her, to anyone who’d listen—about how
obsessed she was with the job and making money and how she had no time for
me.

Since I’d learned I was adopted, she’d tried very hard to mend
our shaky relationship by making sure we spent a little time together every day.
She assured me that she was a great listener if I had any problems, and that she
was here for me, no matter what. And yet, there were more wine bottles by the
door than usual.

Stress showed itself in different ways.

I was on edge, but knew I had to hold it together. This was the
one place I could still feel like myself. Home was my touchstone for being
normal.

And now there was an angel here—one who’d never even been human
before. There was nothing normal about that. My mother’s gaze moved to her as
she entered the room.

“Hi, Mom,” I said, clearing my throat. “This is Cassandra.
She’s a friend of mine.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Cassandra. Call me Eleanor.” My mother
got up from her chair and came over to shake Cassandra’s hand. There was a
genuine smile on her face. “I’m so glad Sam’s hanging out with new friends.
After what happened with Carly, I know the past week’s been rough.”

My eyes started to sting immediately at the mention of my best
friend. Mom was one of the people who believed in the “running away with a
boyfriend” story. Most brushed it off as the act of a rebellious teenager. But
Mom has seen me cry over this and she knew I was taking Carly’s absence hard.
She thought I saw it as a betrayal of our friendship.

She was wrong. It was a tragedy.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Cassandra said. “You have a lovely
home.”

“Thank you.”

Well, weren’t we all pleasant and polite?

“I, um, need to ask a favor...” I began, ready to launch into
my cover story. But Cassandra took over for me before I said another word. She
still held my mother’s hand and she looked deep into her eyes.

“I’m going to be staying here with you and Samantha for a
little while, Eleanor,” she said smoothly. “It’s nothing to concern yourself
with. Do you understand?”

My mother nodded slowly. “I understand.”

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Cassandra was using
angelic influence to mess with my mother’s mind. Zach and Connor could do the
same thing, but only in emergencies.

“Are you girls hungry?” my mother asked, taking a quick sip of
her wine. “I got home late and haven’t had dinner yet. I mean, I know Sam’s
hungry. She’s
always
hungry lately. I’m shocked
she’s remained so skinny with the way she eats.”

This just got better and better.

“Yes.” The angel put a hand on her stomach and cocked her head
as if trying to sense her bodily needs. “I believe I am hungry.”

“I’ll order some Chinese delivery.”

“Delightful.” Cassandra took a seat in a La-Z-Boy recliner and
leaned forward to flip absently through today’s paper. “Eleanor, you say that
Samantha is hungry lately. What does she eat?”

I tensed at the question, and the meaning behind it. Just
because she’d also given me a pass as a gray didn’t mean that she was finished
investigating me. I learned over. “Not what you might be thinking.”

No souls, thank you. Well, except for Colin’s earlier. And
Bishop’s last week.

I could try to convince myself that they didn’t really count. I
hadn’t hurt them—it had only been tiny nibbles. But it was still wrong.

However, compared to the murderous gray we’d been faced with
tonight...

The thought of the glazed eyes of the dead girl with the black
lines around her mouth made my blood run cold.

“You name it, she eats it.” My mother fought against her grin,
but lost. “I can barely keep the fridge stocked anymore.”

I gave her a look. “You’re so funny I forgot to laugh.”

“Better keep a lid on it if you can. I might need to save my
grocery money to pay for other necessities.” Since she was still grinning, I
assumed she was trying to be funny. She shouldn’t give up her day job to become
a comedian. “I’m having trouble selling a house I thought would go quickly. It’s
on the east side right near the city line. Huge piece of property that’s been
abandoned for months. Worth two million.”

“What’s the problem with it?” I asked absently.

Cassandra continued to scan the newspaper, and then picked up
the
TV Guide
to flip through it as if fascinated. If
she’d never left Heaven before I suppose all of this was new to her.

“There’s a rumor circulating that it’s haunted.” She pulled her
cell phone from her Coach bag. “Which is ridiculous. It seems perfectly normal
to me.”

“No mournful moans or rattling of chains?”

“Nothing. Although, with it being Halloween in a few days,
you’d think that might be a selling feature.” She laughed at this, then left the
room to call the Chinese restaurant.

Ghosts in abandoned houses. I wondered if that was even
possible—if ghosts really existed.

Not my problem. I had enough to worry about without adding to
the list.

When the food arrived, and the house began smelling like
Chinese food—which was, in a word, divine—Cassandra had a big grin on her
face.

“My first meal here,” she told me. “It’s incredible.”

My mother gave her a strange look. “You kids and your
diets.”

Cassandra scanned the dishes as I piled a plate for myself high
with food. “What is that? A ball of chicken? Ingenious!”

Later, Cassandra gleefully experienced an hour of television,
while I could barely sit still. I wasn’t sure what I should do right now, but I
felt like sitting here doing nothing was an incredible waste of time. That gray
tonight reminded me how much trouble I was in.

I wouldn’t become like that. I wouldn’t lose my mind again like
I had with Colin. I wouldn’t hurt anybody.

I had this under control.

Stephen was still somewhere in this city. I would find him. And
he would damn well give me back my soul before it was too late. My future was
still bright and sparkly.

Well, maybe not sparkly. But definitely bright.

When it was time for bed, my mother showed Cassandra the
upstairs guest room where she’d be staying.

“Thank you, it’s perfect,” Cassandra said, putting a hand on
her arm. “Listen, I’ve been thinking about this all night, Eleanor. I’d like you
to do something for me.”

“What?”

She gazed into my mother’s eyes. “I think you should go on
vacation somewhere really nice. You can leave tomorrow morning. Any work you
have can wait until you get back. Do you understand?”

I gaped at her, stunned silent that she was using angelic
influence on my mother again.

“Yes, I understand.” My mother nodded. “My goodness, a
vacation. What a wonderful idea! It’s been so long—I don’t think I can even
remember the last vacation I took. I think it was Florida, four years ago.
Remember that, Sam?”

“I...uh, remember. But...are you sure this is a good idea? A
vacation right now?”

“No, it’s not a good idea.” She stroked her honey-blond hair
back from her face. Her eyes sparkled. “It’s a great
idea! I’m going to Hawaii. I’ve always wanted to go there. I’ll take a
surfing lesson...and lie on the beach and read a book. Thank you, Cassandra.
Such a wonderful suggestion. Will you be all right here without me?”

Cassandra nodded. “We’ll be fine.”

“I’m going to go pack!” My mother kissed me on my cheek, then
hurried off in the direction of her bedroom. I waited for her door to close
before I spun around to face the angel.

“Just who do you think you are?”

Her eyebrows went up. “Excuse me?”

“You think you can just influence people to do whatever you
want them to do? Like it’s nothing?” Every decision that had been made, taken
out of my hands, forced upon me—this was the final straw. I wasn’t just going to
smile and nod and try to be easy to get along with so nobody saw me as a threat.
This was totally unacceptable.

She looked at me as if confused by my reaction. “It’s better
this way. Having her here puts her in danger. You must realize that, don’t
you?”

Of course I realized that. I wasn’t stupid. “I’m not saying
you’re wrong.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“It’s just...not cool,” I sputtered. “You’re new around here—a
guest! And this is my house...and my mother! You don’t get to make the rules!” I
turned away and went to my room, slamming the door behind me.

Immediately, I felt like a petulant child who’d just thrown a
temper tantrum. But I couldn’t help it. I tried to be on my best behavior and
fit in, to not make any trouble, even when my life was falling apart. But she’d
pushed me too far.

Cassandra had succeeded in making me feel utterly powerless.
And that, in turn, made me realize I had no control over anything in my
life.

I sank to the floor next to my bed and pulled my knees close to
my chest. The three full plates of Chinese food I’d eaten sat heavily in my
stomach, threatening to come back up.

Cassandra pushed open my bedroom door a couple minutes later.
It wasn’t a big surprise that she didn’t knock first.

I looked up at her, guarded. “What do you want now?”

She pressed her hand against the door frame and looked awkward
about coming all the way into my room. Again, her assessing gaze swept over my
furniture, my vanity, my discarded clothes that hadn’t hit the hamper. I might
get straight As, but I wasn’t what anyone would describe as the neatest person
in the world.

“It’s been a difficult evening,” she said. “For you, for me.
For all of us. I also sensed a dynamic between you and the other members of the
team that perhaps I’ve disrupted in some way.”

I stared up at her, trying to process the strange way she
spoke. “You’re a bit of a Vulcan, aren’t you?”

She looked confused. “A...what?”

“A Vulcan. It’s a
Star Trek
thing.
Emotionless aliens who like to talk very proper.”

Her frown deepened. “I’m not an alien. I’m an angel.”

I sighed. “An angel who’s never had a chicken ball before.”

“Which was delicious. And the red dippable goo they came with?”
She beamed. “Amazing.”

“If you say so.”

She came all the way into my room and sat on the edge of my
bed. She looked at me very seriously. “I know you don’t like me.”

“I never said that.” Not in front of her, anyway.

Her shoulders sank. “That gray this evening. He hurt me...and
he hurt you. I thought I could handle it, but he defeated me easily. Too
easily.”

“It wasn’t your fault. Grays aren’t normally like that. He was
a total freak of nature.” One that scared the hell out of me, to say the least.
I was glad he was dead and he couldn’t hurt anyone else.

“That demon had to save me.” She shuddered. “And he said I have
a nice ass. How crude.”