Wings

Chapter 17

I make it back to the hotel in record time. Once in my room, I take off my wig and unpin my hair. Then I begin the arduous task of wriggling out of my dress. And my Spanx. "Dammit..." I mutter, tugging down on the elastic material, trying to get it off. "I fuckin' hate Spanx!" I growl. I manage to get the damn body shaper off finally. I grab my soft, fluffy robe from the bathroom, sliding it on and tying the belt around me. I head into the bathroom to clean off my makeup.

I pull my hair back into a loose bun and grab a couple of makeup remover pads from the open pack on the vanity. I wet the first one and begin gently swiping at my left eye. I keep listening for Azrael's signature POOF! which indicates he has returned from his errand, while I carefully remove all the makeup from my face. When I finish, I peek out into the rest of the hotel room, but I still don't see Azrael. Seriously, how long can it honestly take to get rid of some cash and credit cards?! Since he's still not here, I decide to jump in the shower. I can still feel that gross comforter on the back of my thighs and on my knees. I will have to burn my new dress and shoes. Damn.

I grab my pajamas, toothbrush, and toothpaste. I return to the bathroom to change into my sleepwear and brush my teeth. I can still sort of taste the whiskey and Bannier, so I also swish with some mouthwash. Finished with that, I head into the bedroom and turn down the bed. I'm shocked to realize it's only midnight. I sit on the side of the bed and wait for Azrael. And wait. And wait.

By two o'clock in the morning, I've stretched out on the bed and am playing games on my tablet. I'm getting concerned about Azrael, but this isn't the first time he's skipped out on a meetup and I'm sure it won't be the last. I'm a little ticked though that he specifically asked for this debrief and then has the nerve to ditch me. Asshole, I can't help think.

I'm startled from my thought by the sound of a cellphone vibrating. I reach out for my phone on the nightstand, but quickly realize it's not my phone going off. On the table across the room from me sits Rupert's phone. And it's vibrating like crazy. I dive off the bed and catch the phone just as it vibrates itself off the edge of the table. The number displayed on the screen is unfamiliar. I'm tempted to just hang up, but something in the back of my mind tells me to answer. So I do. "Hello?"

The voice on the other end sounds very familiar to me. "The abandoned catacombs under the Catholic church at the north end of town. One hour."

"Who is this?!" I say. "What do you want?"

CLICK! The caller hangs up. I stare at the phone until the annoying buzzing tone sounds. That snaps me out of my stupor. I slam the phone down on the table, no longer caring if I break it. In a whirlwind of anger, I quickly dress. I order an Uber on my phone at some point. When I'm dressed, I arm myself. Sword on my back. Knife in my boot. Second and third knives on my forearms. Pistols and holsters on both of my hips. And a long coat to conceal it all.

I slip my phone, Rupert's phone, a little cash, and my room key in my pockets. Then I leave the room and head down the hall to the elevator. Riding the elevator down to the lobby, I finally force myself to take a deep breath and focus. Focus on who was on the phone. Focus on what they want. And focus on my plan to get through this alive.

This has Diana's stink ALL over it.

The man on the phone was Evan. The bastard betrayed me.

Diana obviously wants me on her own turf. She must have Nick in the catacombs.

But where is Azrael? It's not like him to go MIA at a time like this...

Outside the hotel, my Uber driver is already waiting. I climb into the car and direct him to drop me a few blocks away from the church, in front of a row of bars. I want him to think I'm just out for a last drink or even a late-night stroll along the edge of the French quarter. As we wind our way toward the church, I force myself to focus on the plan. I need to be cautious. I cannot underestimate Diana. She is just unstable enough to be unpredictable. And she has Nick.