home. It was your home as well, up until your mother died.”
My mouth dropped open. “Why don’t I remember?”
“Clearly, you did,” he said with a small smile. “I tried to erase the memories from your mind to save you unnecessary pain, but since you’re of my blood, it didn’t completely take.”
“Wait. Where in the heck did Gram think we lived?” I asked.
“A few hours away,” he said. “You and your mother visited her weekly.”
“Yet we were only a few miles from her,” I said.
My father nodded.
“Holes,” Gideon repeated, taking my hand in his. “Fill them, Archangel. Now.”
“Clarissa was gone from this part of the Universe for the first several years of your life,” he told me. “When she came back and discovered your existence, she wanted you dead. What I believe is that your mother traded her life for yours, and Clarissa trapped and kept her soul.”
“So, she killed herself?” I asked, thinking maybe the suicide part was correct but the reasoning as to why was flawed. “That would mean she was destined for the darkness.”
“No, if she had been destined for the darkness, that is where she would be,” Michael said as his eyes went a sparkling gold filled with fury and regret. “I believe she was pushed off the bridge.”
“By Clarissa,” I said. Something inside me broke. I’d avoided feeling anything for the woman who bore me. I’d pushed all memories away because I thought she’d left me for someone else. She’d left me for me… The guilt raging inside made me breathless. “That’s why you don’t want the Angel of Mercy destroyed,” I said as tears rolled down my cheeks. “Because it will destroy Alana, too.”
My father said nothing. He didn’t have to.
The rules had changed.
The game was no longer simple—not that it was to start with, but now it was far different. “You all truly believe Clarissa is in the area?”
“I do,” Gideon said.
“New plan.” I swiped my hand through the air and disintegrated the bubble surrounding us. “We stop looking for her.”
“What the hell?” Tim asked, looking at me with an expression of shock. “How did you do that?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care,” I said, realizing everyone was staring at me—even my father. “We will draw her to us.”
“That’s the new plan?” Candy Vargo asked, squinting at me like I’d lost it.
“Yep.” I informed them. “To me. We will draw her to me.”
“I don’t like it,” Gideon said tersely.
“Not real fond of it, either,” I told him as a feeling of confidence—or insanity coupled with a death wish—blossomed in my chest. It felt right and damn good. “However, this has to end. I want what belongs to me. I’m the Death Counselor. My mother is dead. She’s mine. She belongs to me and then to the light.”
“I will stand by your side,” my father said.
“That’s part of the plan, John Travolta. I want you by my side,” I said.
The Archangel’s eyes grew wide, but he said nothing.
“Damn this was a fucking out-of-control shindig,” Candy said, heaping another pile of Wiener Winks onto a plate.
“Are we almost done here?” Tim asked as I held my father’s gaze.
“We are,” I replied.
“Excellent.” Tim pulled his trivia sheet from his pocket. “I shall leave all of you with this… the space between your eyebrows is called a glabella. Illegible handwriting is called griffonage, and to testify was based on the Roman court swearing to a statement by swearing on the longevity and health of their testicles.”
“As I said,” Candy announced with a cackle. “Excellent fucking party.”
Chapter Nineteen
No firm plan had been made by the time everyone left. We’d agree to talk tomorrow after everyone had a chance to sleep on it. My father was not in favor of using me as bait, but even he agreed I was probably the one who could pull her out of hiding.
“Come with me,” Gideon said, pulling my coat from the foyer closet and handing it to me.
“I have to clean up,” I told him, pointing to the plates and glasses littered around the living room.
“I’ve got it,” Heather said. “I need something mindless to do for a little while. Go with Gideon.”
“You sure?” I asked.
“Positive,” she replied. “I’ll straighten up, take the dogs out to do their business and then go home.”
“Thank you, Heather.”
“You’re welcome… sister,” she said, trying the word on for size.
I grinned, as did she.
Heather shook her head. “And the Universe keeps getting stranger.”
“And better,” I added, giving her a quick hug.
“And better,” she agreed. “Much better.”
“You ready?” Gideon asked.
“Born