his fingers playing with hers. “Angel. I have to tell you something.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“No, really.” She squeezed his hand. “I know about Izzie. I know that wasn’t you.”
He looked shell-shocked, then relieved. His entire frame visibly deflated from the release of tension. “I don’t deserve you, you know? I never have.”
“Well.” The toe of her shoe followed a grout line in the marble. “I have something to tell you, too.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“I don’t want to hear it. And when I saw the name of Sarakiel’s e-mail attachment, I didn’t want to see it either. So I deleted it.”
Her shoulders went back. “Because you feel guilty over something you’re not responsible for. You think this makes us even, but it doesn’t, Alec. I knew damn well what I was doing; you didn’t.”
“I don’t care,” he said stubbornly.
She laid it all out there. “I would do it again; you wouldn’t.”
“I’m not going to give you a reason to do it again.” Alec straightened. “Let’s go check on my parents and see if they’re ready to go. I need to hit the road.”
“Fine.” There was no point in talking to him about it now. He wasn’t listening. She’d revisit the subject later. She had to. Everything was different. Ignoring those differences wasn’t going to help any of them. “But I’ll need you back here before noon. You and that necklace. Got it?”
“Got it.” Alec shifted them up to his apartment.
His mother sat on the black leather couch in the living room. His father was apparently in one of the back bedrooms. When Eve jerked her chin down the hall, Alec took the hint and joined his dad, leaving her alone with his mom.
Ima looked up at her with reddened eyes and nose. She looked years older than she had the night before, with deep grooves around her pretty mouth and slumped shoulders. Eve took a seat beside her and offered her a commiserating smile.
Setting a hand on Eve’s knee, Ima asked in a whisper, “How did you get the necklace?”
“Satan lent it to me.”
“Why?”
“It wards off Infernals.”
“Does it?” Ima looked away. Her tone grew distant. “I didn’t know. It didn’t do that for me.”
Eve looked down the hail, making sure that Alec was still occupied with helping his father. Then she leaned in and queried softly, “It’s yours, isn’t it?”
Nodding, Ima explained, “When I married Adam, Jehovah gave it to me, along with twenty-three other pieces of jewelry.”
Was the piece around Alec’s neck the only one that was charmed? Perhaps they all had a unique gift. “How did Satan get his hands on it?”
“I gave it to him. In a way, it’s fitting that you would give it to Cain.”
A sentimental gesture. A gift of some meaning, apparently. A message delivered, as Satan had said.
“You shouldn’t say any more,” Eve murmured. “Cain shares my thoughts and memories. Whatever I know, he eventually finds out about.”
“Ah, I see.” Ima gave her knee a gentle squeeze. “Thank you for the warning.”
“Will you be okay?”
“Adam and I have been together forever. That’s not going to change now.”
“I hope I see you again. A longer visit, perhaps.”
“I would like that.”
Ima hugged her. A few moments later, Adam did the same, albeit with some awkwardness. Then Alec shifted away with them. The parting was bittersweet for Eve. She’d spent only enough time with them to learn that she wanted to spend more.
Knowing there was much to be done before the morning dawned, Eve returned to her condo. Sydney was cooking chili in the kitchen, Reed was on the phone with his insurance company, and Montevista was in the shower. Once again, Eve kicked off her heels, hoping it would be for the last time tonight. She was beat. She pushed them under the console table by the front door and padded down the hallway to her office.
Ishamel was there, sitting at her desk and staring intently at the computer monitor. He leaned back when she entered and sighed. That sound softened him in her eyes, as did the sight of him sans jacket and waistcoat.
“Hi,” she said.
“How are you?”
She hummed a noncommittal sound. “I’ve been better.”
“I found what I think you were looking for.”
“Oh?”
The mal‘akh gestured at her monitor. She rounded the desk to see what he was referring to.
Frozen on the screen was a grainy image of Sarakiel in sunglasses, sitting at a picnic table in what looked to be a public park. Across from her sat another blonde woman and a large