“There’s no justification for ethnic slurs. They’re stuck. They need a push.”
The demon considered that. “A push, huh. What do you have in mind?”
Kellareal regarded him coolly. “Again. Not. Your. Business.”
“Maybe I could help.”
“When did you become interested in helping anyone other than yourself?”
The angel thought he may have seen just the briefest flicker of something other than jest or cynicism pass over Deliverance’s flawless features, but he recovered so fast it was impossible to tell.
“I didn’t. I’m not. Goodbye.” And he was gone.
Rosie popped them back to their room and sat down on the edge of the bed. She looked up at Glen.
“If you knew how you looked with that thing on your head, I feel sure you would want to take it off.”
Glen eyes drifted upward almost like he’d forgot he was wearing a biker light attached to his skull by a jockstrap. Actually he hadn’t thought about it the entire time they’d been with Finrar. Pulling the contraption off his head, he looked at it like he’d never seen it before and was embarrassed for himself in arrears.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Rosie laughed. “I didn’t think about it either.” She saw that he was serious. “What’s the matter, Glen? You okay?”
The combination of preoccupation and the dislodging of the contraption had left him looking like an absent minded professor with bedhead. It was captivating and cute.
His eyes jerked up to meet Rosie’s. “I’m gone for you.”
Her lips parted. “Glen.”
He put the head light down and pulled her down so that she sat next to him, thighs touching. She could feel his breath on her cheek. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
“Okay.” She sounded just as breathless as she felt. She didn’t want to feel anxious about what was happening, but Glen wasn’t acting like himself.
“I declared for knighthood. I’m in.”
She stared into his eyes trying to process. She hadn’t known what he was going to say, but she wasn’t prepared for that.
“What?”
“One of the members of Z Team retired. I’m taking his place.”
“You’re not.” She said it so quietly it almost sounded like it was coming from somebody else.
“I am. I’ve been training for this for a long time and I need…”
She stood up quickly. “No.” She shook her head. “That’s not… You can’t.”
“Look, baby. I’m not saying I’m doing it forever. I’m just saying I’m not ready for a desk job. You know?”
“No. I don’t know. Why are you telling me this? Is it like a this-sure-was-fun-have-a-nice-life talk?”
“No! I… I don’t know exactly. I guess it’s a can-we-talk-about-this talk.” He felt his stomach muscles clench when he saw a big tear roll down her cheek and, for a moment, he was considering second thoughts.
“Well, you must have had something in mind, Glen. Break it down. Let’s say that you’re going to Marrakesh. Z Team is getting you instead of the sixty public lashes they deserve.”
“Whoa.”
“What, exactly, do you see me doing while you’re there?” Glen stared at Rosie for a couple of beats and then dropped his gaze. “Son. Of. A. Bitch. You chose that over me.”