“I know. I didn’t ever really think that I could. I just didn’t think it would hurt like this,” I said as I kept my pace up, knowing that Feish would have no trouble keeping up. Only she didn’t follow me.
I turned at the edge of the property, right where I’d cross over into the visible world. Corb and Sarge followed me out, and the two men brushed past me and went straight to the Mustang. There was no goodbye from them.
No, that’s not entirely true. Sarge lifted his hand and gave me another grimace that said it all.
He didn’t like this either, but he was Corb’s best friend and they’d been an item for a time, so, of course, he was leaving with the siren. I didn’t hold it against him. I waved back and even blew him a kiss.
The engine of the Mustang revved and Corb peeled the car out backward, spinning the wheel in a crank that made the hot rod drift sideways with a squeal of tires and the burning smell of rubber. He didn’t look at me as he drove away, didn’t so much as glance in my direction, though I could see tension in the way he gripped the wheel, in the set of his jaw as he stared straight out the windshield.
A weird mixture of anxiety, relief, and sadness bubbled up from my stomach. I made myself take a deep breath and blow out through my mouth. See, some of the yoga stuff Suzy had taught me was sticking.
I looked back at the door of the house to see Feish standing there. “I have to stay with boss.” She hunched her back, her eyes mutinous. “He says you need time without me. I help him for a bit. He thinks he’s close to figuring out an issue with fae.”
I paused and went back into the house to see Crash standing there, leaning on the table.
“Trying to figure out what Karissa is up to?” I asked.
He blinked at me. “How did you—”
“She’s looking for the wings of a fallen angel, does that help?” I offered.
His face paled and he swallowed hard. “Yes. Goddess help me, it does. But . . . I won’t be able to help you. I have to stop her.”
The thing was, if he found the angel wings, that was one thing off my plate. “That bad, huh?”
“Yes.” He took a few steps closer to me, reached up and put a hand to my face. “I’m sorry for what that cost you.”
I nodded in acknowledgement, because I wasn’t sure what to say, and for a long moment, he just looked into my eyes. Then he let his hand slip and turned away. “Feish, we have to go!”
Emotional fatigue is a real thing, and I didn’t have it in me to argue with Crash about Feish going with him. Nope, not today.
Instead, I gave her a wave and got going on my own path. Maybe some time without my very blunt friend would be a good thing. Tears for Corb still tracked down my cheeks, no matter how many times I dashed them away, and I didn’t want either Feish or Crash to see me cry over something I’d always known deep in my heart wouldn’t work.
Corb would one day be an amazing man, but in many ways, he was still just a kid, something he’d just proven with his behavior. It still hurt to see him go. Seeing the potential in someone and knowing it would never be for you was kind of a shit deal.
“He didn’t handle it well,” Kinkly said. “That’s the problem with all those hormones.”
I snorted, which wasn’t a good idea after all those tears. I scrambled to get my bag open and grab a tissue before I made more of a mess of my face. Alan looked up at me from the interior, his eyes scrunched. When had he climbed in here?
“What are you crying about?”
I shoved my hand past him and grabbed a tissue. “That time of the month, Alan, remember?”
He grimaced, his nose wrinkling up and his eyes squinting shut, before he rolled so I was looking at his back. What a weird thing for such a little bag to hold so much.
I wiped my eyes, pulled up my proverbial bigger girl panties, and made my way to the closest tourist shop, a little place called Reagan’s Firepit. I frowned at the painted flames encircling the sign, which advertised all