How are you and your colleagues?"
Recovering from all kinds of fun and games with you last night. "Good. Yourself?"
"We've been going through the casework on Cecilia Barten. Do you guys have anything we don't?"
Jim had been prepared for the info request - it was SOP, and the kind of thing he'd have been able to field if he'd actually been an FBI field agent. "I'm not sure. You want to meet and I'll take a look at what you've got?"
"Good call."
"There's not a lot to go on." Devina wouldn't have left dangling threads, and given all that she could manipulate, the cleanup job around the abduction had to have been spectacular.
"Yeah, I know. There were no witnesses - how in the hell could there have been no witnesses?"
Because his Sissy had been taken by a demon, that was why.
Not that she was his.
"Listen," the detective continued, dropping his voice. "I think she's connected to Kroner. Can you double-check your files on him, too?"
"Absolutely." Jim didn't especially like lying, but he had no problem with it when shit called for a fallacy. "I'll see what I can dig up. Lunch?"
"Yeah. Riverside Diner?"
"See you there at noon."
Putting aside the whole vampire thing, Jim walked around the end of the bed and stuck his head through the connector. "We have a date with the good detective."
Eddie and Adrian looked over, and instantly both of them frowned.
"What's around your neck?" Ad demanded.
"At twelve," Jim said, "which means you have another couple hours to argue while I get back on the Internet."
As he backed out and went for the pants he'd left on the chair, they followed him into his room.
"What's up with the necklace?" Ad barked.
Even though Jim was flashing his ass, he decided getting a Hanes undershirt on was more of a priority. He didn't want them to see Sissy's little strip of gold, thank you very much -
"We are fucked," Adrian muttered. "We are so fucked."
Jim yanked the shirt over his head. "Thanks for your vote of confidence - "
"She is not your problem! She's just some girl, get over it."
Wrong thing to say in the wrong tone on the wrong morning.
Jim flashed over to the guy and jammed his face into the other angel's. "I spent part of yesterday afternoon staring into the eyes of that girl's mother. So before you write her off as nothing special, I suggest you go over there and see for yourself how much she does matter."
Adrian didn't back down. "And I suggest you get your priorities straight. There've been a hundred thousand pretty, innocent victims in this conflict, and yeah, that's tragic, but it's also reality. She's just the most recent one I've seen - you gonna pull this shit with every chick you come across? This is war, not a goddamn dating service."
Jim bared his teeth in a snarl. "You holier-than-thou motherfucker. Don't you ever pretend to know me."
"Then do us a favor and know yourself!"
Jim stepped back. And glanced at Eddie. "Get him away from me - and keep him there. We're done."
Adrian tossed a,eah, whatever," over his shoulder and walked back into their bedroom. A moment later, a door slammed shut.
Jim yanked his leathers on commando, and in the silence, he wanted to scream.
"He's right," Eddie said.
Shooting a glare over his shoulder, Jim bit out, "And you can leave, too. I don't need either one of you."
There was a beat of quiet and then Eddie's brows slowly lowered, cranking down over those red eyes ... that suddenly started to glow.
Jim took a step back, but not because he was afraid he was going to hit the guy. More like he realized he'd thrown a match on some gasoline.
Eddie Blackhawk pissed off was not something to fuck around with.
In a voice that warped as if it were a radio going in and out of frequency, the angel growled, "You want to be an island? Good luck with it - I saved your cock and balls last night, and that wasn't the first time. You think Adrian's the problem in this? Take a look in the mirror, you'll get further."
On that note, Eddie pivoted on his heel and shut the connector, locking it in place. Then a brief flare of incandescent light suggested the angel had taken off the old-fashioned way.
Wheeling around, Jim picked up a cheapo chair, raised the thing over his shoulder, and got ready to throw it at the door.
Except he paused as he caught a glimpse of himself in the