Tucker had come along. He remembered that about the time he hit puberty, playing with her had become a chore, like playing with a little brother or sister. “I wonder if it’s an effect of living at the mansion.”
“What were you thinking?” Angel asked, sounding puzzled. His new form didn’t look like the sensitive type—Tucker wondered at the contrast.
“I was thinking about my first ghost,” Tucker said. “I… I was stupid. I got too old to play.”
“What does that mean?”
Tucker grunted. “It’s like when you have a little brother or sister, you know? You think you’re too old or too cool to play with them and make a big deal about how they owe you. But she was trapped there, and I was her only company, and one day she just….” He rubbed his cheek, and he could almost feel the cool touch of her gentle, understanding kiss. “She said it was okay, I could grow up, and that it was time for her to go see her parents anyway.” He’d watched, helpless and miserable, as she’d faded into thin air for the final time. He’d missed her acutely after that, not quite as grown up as he’d thought he was.
“This memory makes you sad,” Angel said, sounding puzzled.
“I hurt her feelings,” Tucker muttered. Jeez, ya baby. Do you think all I have to do with my day is stay here and play dolls? God, were all thirteen-year-old boys assholes? “It wasn’t very nice of me.” It was maybe his first real lesson in how careful you had to be with human feelings and the supernatural world. Too bad he hadn’t learned.
“I’ve done that,” Angel said, and now he sounded sad. “It’s a hard lesson to learn.”
Tucker eyed him sourly. “What are you doing here, Angel? I actually had sort of a good day.”
“Are you going to get a cat?” Angel asked curiously.
“It’s on the list.” Tucker had been planning on visiting a shelter before Josh told them about their friend.
“May I help?”
Tucker had to remember to close his mouth. “That’s unexpected.”
“It’s just,” Angel said with dignity, “that I don’t know what my presence will do to an animal. You need to find one that….” He floundered, and his broad hands gestured as he tried to find words.
“Likes you?” Tucker supplied, semiamused.
“For lack of a better word.” Angel let out a breath—which should have been impossible, but Tucker could almost feel the breeze of it when he turned his head. “We need to find an animal that the presence of the supernatural does not torture.”
Oh hell—he had a point. “Cats are pretty savvy to you guys in between worlds, aren’t they? I mean, that might be a problem.”
Angel turned a winning smile toward him, and Tucker couldn’t help but notice that the redhead he was wearing today was handsome and capable, and his smile looked like sexy sin.
Again, it was unexpected.
“We will hope,” Angel said, like he was speaking to a child.
Well, Tucker suddenly really hoped he was right, so there was no argument coming from that direction.
But there was another subject at hand.
“So we hope. Sort of like we hope the dimensional void over the graveyard doesn’t swallow up the house?”
“You saw that,” Angel said in the same tone someone living might have said, “You saw the stain on the carpet,” or “You saw I ate the last of the cake from your birthday party.”
“Yes, I saw that! What in the hell is it doing there?” And more importantly, “Did Aunt Ruth know?”
“No,” Angel said with a sigh. “It didn’t start getting bad until she was bedridden and couldn’t release souls anymore—”
“That’s bullshit,” Tucker said. “The locals have been watching it get worse for more than thirty years.”
Angel gasped. “Really?”
Tucker risked a look at him and saw real alarm. “You don’t go look?”
“I’ve been busy,” Angel said defensively. Then he sighed. “And it scares me. So many souls, and I can’t do a thing for them. It’s unpleasant.”
“Will bad things happen if I go there?” Not that Tucker wanted to go there—not really. The lurid green-lit prospector wasn’t going to leave his inner eye alone anytime soon.
“I don’t know.” Cold seeped through Tucker’s T-shirt, and when he looked, he saw Angel resting his hand on Tucker’s bicep, as unselfconsciously and as naturally as any human. Any good-looking, fascinating human. “Please don’t, Tucker. Let’s just do our job for a while and see if it gets better.”
Tucker sighed. “Yeah, sure. Wait—is that Tornado Alley?” He stopped for a second and