Drake turns to me and whispers, “What the hell, Claire?”
“Welcome to my life,” I chuckle mockingly, “Even I don’t know what happens from one moment to the next.”
“So you’re my keeper now?” he leans in for a kiss, “I think I like the sound of that.”
“Ahem,” Clark turns us back to the present, “There will be plenty of time to explore your new relationship later. Right now, we need to get you accommodations for the night and discuss your presence at the panel tomorrow.”
“Don’t I need to stay here?” I ask, “I’m still technically under her employ.”
“”Under the circumstances,” his wings flare slightly, “I think a mutually-agreed-upon early termination is in order. Drake?”
“I’ll book a room,” he nods and reaches for his phone, “Country?”
“Try Canada,” Clark offers, “Not Quebec, though. Nova Scotia, maybe. Try The Buttercrisp.”
“Sounds cold,” I tell them both, “What about Australia or Mexico or Bali?”
“It’s not that cold,” Drake chuckles at me, “And I’ll keep you warm. It’ll thicken up your blood to have you below fifty degrees.”
“I’m not packed for that,” I mumble.
“Seriously? With all you’re toting around there’s not warm clothes in there?” Clark rolls his eyes, “Go pack up your essentials while Drake makes the plans. I’ll sort through your stuff and make due.”
“What about the rest of it?” I ask.
“I’ll give you a claim-ticket,” he tells me, “Let’s go.”
He walks out and Drake turns to me again, “They spoke a language that I didn’t understand. I understand every language on Earth. Why didn’t I understand that?”
“Because it’s not an Earthly language,” I tell him, “It’s a divine language.”
I expect him to question me more, but he doesn’t, “This doesn’t bode well, you know?” he asks me rhetorically, “We need to get you as far away as fast as we can from her. Go pack,” he gives me a kiss and returns to his phone, “Be quick.”
Turns out, Monaco to Nova Scotia is a bitch. Despite Drake’s best attempt, we have to land in Norway to refuel before hopping the pond. Clark is with us and claims that we’ve lost a day by crossing back over the International Date Line, but I’m still skeptical.
And tired.
It’s full daylight outside the pulled-down shades, but I’m nodding off while Drake and Clark continue to strategize. I really do want to keep up, but my body is telling me I’m done.
“Come on, angel,” Drake shakes me, “This plane has a full queen-bed in the back. Time for you to enjoy it.”
“Why do you call me that?” I ask him sleepily as he picks me up, “Angel?”
“Well, aren’t you?” he pulls me closer to him and I snuggle into his warmth, “Quadruple angel?”
“I guess,” I try to nod, but I’m too tired.
The bed is fluffy and warm and I sink into it happily, barely registering Drake’s kiss on my temple before I drift off.
YOU ARE READING
Sinners and Saints
FantasyHell has demons, imps, succubi and incubi. Not to mention Don Lucifer and Doña Lilith. What does Heaven have to combat that nefarious, meticulous bureaucracy? Overworked priests mired in scandal and an outdated rule book and angels as disassociat...
