The Lost (Celestial Blues, Book 2) - By Vicki Pettersson Page 0,57
going to remember, and—”
“You been talking about me with Sarge, too?” Grif interrupted sharply. “Gee, homie, you’ve been talking about me a lot lately.”
Jesse just shrugged. He knew Grif couldn’t touch him in his etheric state. Not while Grif wore flesh. “It’s not just me, bro. It’s everyone. Your return to flesh and the Surface is the most interesting thing to happen since the Fall. Manny is even laying odds that you get offed twice. Courtney thinks you’re just biding your time till you die of natural causes. Or are they unnatural, if you’re technically already dead?”
Grif didn’t want to know what the over/under was on the former, and he ignored the latter. Tilting his head, he asked, “You really want to help me, Jesse? Tell me what you know about the Third. In particular, about banishing them from the Surface.”
“You can’t banish the Third,” Jesse scoffed. “Technically, they aren’t really here.”
“They are. I saw one. It told me they could possess souls that weren’t in possession of themselves. It said they can even possess those who give themselves over to negative emotions.”
“Sure, but that’s not real possession. They’re like Mei and me here. We’re talking to you now—”
“We’re influencing your mood,” Mei added, voice detached and clipped.
“Yeah, and mood is how they getcha,” Grif said.
“True. They can possess bodies for short periods, but they can’t displace the resident souls.”
Grif thought about that. So even if Scratch did get into Kit, it wouldn’t be forever. But it didn’t take forever to make someone go mad.
“What about water?” he asked.
“They can’t stand it.”
“I know that, Jesse,” Grif said through clenched teeth. “Can I use it to get rid of a fallen angel if one of them is possessing a human body?”
“I suppose. Being dunked would be a sort of reverse baptism for a fallen angel. It’d kill them rather than save them. But like I said, they won’t go near the stuff. Why you asking, bro?” Jesse asked, eyes narrowing.
“No reason,” Grif said quickly. He didn’t need Jesse reporting the query to Sarge. If Frank even thought Kit was in danger, he’d force Grif to leave her side for sure. Turning to pace, he caught Mei giving him a cool sidelong stare. “What?”
Mei only lifted her pointed chin. “Please, Mr. Shaw. Don’t waste the short time we have together with unnecessary defensive emotion. I’m here to help.”
Grif looked back at Jesse. “You brought me a shrink?”
This time—etheric state or not—the young Centurion did step back. “C’mon, homes. I want to help you solve your life’s, and death’s, greatest mystery.” Jesse splayed his fingers wide and whispered dramatically, “Who killed Griffin Shaw?”
Grif felt a vein begin to pulse in his head, and turned back to Mei. “I don’t need your help.”
“And Katherine?”
“The name is Kit,” he said quickly, because what he really wanted to say was Go pound sand, but he didn’t talk that way to ladies.
“Maybe you should reconsider whether you’re good for Kit,” Mei said evenly.
Maybe he should reconsider the way he talked to ladies. “You know you can’t charge me by the hour for this, right?”
“Kit is going to age, Mr. Shaw. Did you ever think about that?”
“No,” he lied.
Mei smiled tightly. “Well, maybe you should. She’s twenty-nine now, but her mortal clock is ticking. Soon she’ll be thirty-three, same as you when you died. Soon after that she’ll be fifty-four. A cougar.” The smile widened. “You’ll be her boy toy.”
Grif thought of the changes he’d seen between now and his first go-round on the Surface. Men married older women now. Shoot, men married men now. “It won’t matter.”
“Of course it will. You, Griffin Shaw, are a stopwatch while Katherine Craig is an hourglass. You should quit her now. Let her live the life she was meant to live, with someone from her time and era. Sure, it’ll pain her in the short term, but she’ll eventually heal, find some mortal man to wed and have babies with, and they’ll grow old together. Just as God intended.”
Grif stared at Mei for so long the silence almost snapped. Then he turned to Jesse. Seeing the look in his eyes, the other Centurion held up his hands. “Don’t shoot the messenger, bro.”
That’s exactly what Grif did. His ankle piece was in his hand so quickly it surprised even him, and he blasted a hole through Jesse’s semitransparent body before anyone else spoke. Mei was newly dead enough that she actually screeched, and cowered behind Jesse’s frayed wings. Jesse just stared at