“Thanks, for everythin’,” he said. He took hold of her shoulders, gave them a squeeze, and then placed a chaste kiss on her forehead.

  Riley felt disappointment, then anger in rapid succession.

  “So that’s it?” she said, her voice shaking. “After all that happened between us, that’s it?”

  “For now.”

  Her mouth closed with a click of her teeth, her jealousy roaring again.

  He seemed to know what she was thinking. “This isn’t about Justine or that angel. It’s me. I need some time to get things sorted out, get my head on straight. That’s why I’m stayin’ down here until I do.”

  “There’s nothing to sort out, Beck,” she replied. “It’s all been settled.”

  “Not in my mind. I can’t go forward until . . . I know some things.”

  What was there to know? I love you. You care for me. Why make this hard?

  “Okay, then when you finally get that head of yours straight, give me a call. Who knows, maybe I’ll answer the phone,” she said, then whirled on her heels and marched toward the bus. As she climbed the steps, out of the corner of her eye she saw Beck staring at her. He wasn’t angry. If anything, he looked lost.

  Riley slumped into a seat, feeling like a jerk for going all ugly on him. In an instant, she knew what had to be done. Rushing down the aisle, she nearly collided with the driver as he entered the vehicle.

  “How soon do you leave?” she asked.

  “Five minutes,” the man said. “Don’t go too far.”

  “I won’t.”

  Riley hurried down the stairs and then crossed the lot to where Beck was waiting.

  “What’s wrong?” he said, straightening up.

  “You.” Riley grabbed onto his collar, pulled him forward, and kissed him with as much ferocity as she possessed. She put everything into that kiss, all her wild hopes, all her dreams.

  When it ended, Beck’s eyes were glowing with desire. He quickly took in a huge rush of air.

  “Damn, woman,” he murmured.

  Now that she had his attention Riley carefully tidied his collar and then looked deeply into those bottomless brown eyes.

  “Remember when we first came to town, I told you to ask me if I felt any different about you when it was all over?”

  He nodded warily. “Do you?”

  “Yes, I do. Get your head straight and come back to Atlanta. Come back to me. Because I’m not giving up on you. I can’t . . . ” Her voice broke from the emotions careening inside her.

  He has to know.

  Riley carefully touched her forehead to his, like he had in the cemetery, her hands lightly caressing his arms, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt.

  “I love you, Denver Beck,” she whispered. “I have for a long time.” Then she stepped back. “Now it’s your turn to decide if you love me.”

  As Riley walked back to the bus, her heart hammered and her mind whirled. There was no going back now. Either he felt the same about her, or it’d all turn to ashes like it had with the others.

  She climbed aboard with shaking legs, without looking back. In truth, she was too frightened to do so. It wasn’t until Riley returned to her seat that she looked out the window. Beck’s mouth hung open in shock, then he blinked a few times and closed it.

  He was still there when the bus pulled out. He hadn’t taken off, not like she’d feared. Instead, he’d held his ground despite her actions. Riley waved goodbye and he returned it along with a tentative smile.

  Then she was on the road to Atlanta, leaving behind the man she loved more than life itself. Only time would tell if he felt the same about her.

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  The bucket of fried chicken setting between them was mostly empty. The bottle of Jack Daniel’s was mostly full. That said a lot about the pair of them: Donovan wasn’t much of a drinker and Beck was still too hungry to waste time sucking down booze when there was food at hand.

  They sat on Sadie’s rickety back porch, which overlooked a long stretch of open ground. In the distance a hawk soared above the field in hopes of a meal. Sadie had never cared for the porch, which is why Beck had spent countless childhood hours out here dreaming that he was on a pirate ship, or exploring some strange new country. Anything to be away from the woman who despised him.

  To his right sat a battered metal box, the one he’d had Donovan fish out of a heating vent where it’d been hidden. If Sadie had discovered it, she would have tossed it in the trash. She’d always been that way when it came to anything he valued. Now his personal treasures would be going to Atlanta with him.

  Sitting about fifteen feet in front of them was that damned couch, reeking of gasoline fumes, courtesy of a can of fuel. At Beck’s feet was a rolled-up newspaper and a box of matches. At his request, the sheriff had already let the proper people know that a visit by the fire department was not going to be needed.

  “Some reason you’re going all Viking funeral on this piece of furniture?” Donovan asked, his face crinkling in humor.

  “I hate the thing. When Sadie had been drinkin’, she’d come home and pass out on it. Usually she’d have some guy with her.”

  The sheriff sobered. “I talked to her about that, told her it wasn’t the right thing to do when she had a young son. She’d never listen to me.”

  “At least you tried.”

  With the his help, Beck lit the newspaper and then hobbled over to the remaining source of his nightmares.

  “Burn, you bastard,” he muttered, then threw the lighted paper onto the center of the couch. The fumes ignited instantly and began to consume the fabric in thick, greedy waves.

  Beck returned to the porch and sat, watching the inferno build. “Been wantin’ to do that since I was ten.”

  “Surprised you waited.”

  That did make him grin. “I was gettin’ into enough trouble without bein’ a fire bug.”

  “That’s the truth.” Donovan retied a shoelace. “We have a plea bargain in place with McGovern. Once the feds are done with him, they’ll go directly to the sentencing phase.”

  “Any chance of the death penalty?”

  “No. That was part of the bargain. That won’t sit well with some folks, but that’s the way it went down.”

  “If I was him, I’d let them kill me rather than spendin’ the rest of my life in some damned cell.”

  The sheriff took a quick slug of whiskey. “If it wasn’t such a mess around here, we could go fishing.”

  Beck smiled. “I’d have liked that, but I’ll have to get back to Atlanta. Maybe sometime down the line.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. How do I do this?

  Something must have shown on his face as Donovan leaned forward as well, adopting the same pose. “What’s on your mind, Denver?”

  “Got a question and I don’t know how to ask it.”

  “Does it have something to do with me and Sadie?”

  Beck’s heart skipped a beat. “Yeah, it does. I’m not the only one who thinks you and me look a lot alike.”

  “Figured that would come up one of these days. In fact, I’m surprised it hasn’t until now.”

  “Part of askin’ the question is maybe gettin’ an answer I won’t like. I wasn’t willin’ to take the risk,” Beck admitted.

  “But you are now.” Donovan picked up the bottle of whiskey, but didn’t take a drink. “Your mother and me were together for a few months right before I went into the Navy. When I came back four years later she’s got this little blond-haired boy. Sweet fellow with big brown eyes and a smile that would own your heart.”

  Beck jammed his lips together.

  “I asked her if you were mine and she said you weren’t. Now, by that time she was drinking heavily and not known to tell the truth, so I kept an eye on you as best I could.” He paused. “When she left you in the swamp I was so damned mad I had Doc Hodges do a paternity test while you were in the hospital, on the sly. I never told Sadie about it.”

  Beck sat up, his breath caught. “Yes or no?”

  “It was negative, Denver. You’re not my son. I can tell you that wasn’t what I wanted to hear. I had so hoped you were.”

  “Ah hell,” Beck murmured, his hopes crushed. “I always thought . . . ”

  “So did I. I’d hoped you were mine so I could sue for custody, get you away from your mother.”

  “All those years I wasted dreamin’ you might be my daddy.”

  “No, not wasted. It gave you something to hope for, something Sadie couldn’t destroy. That’s why I never told you. As long as you had that hope, you had a reason to keep moving forward.”

  He ran a hand over his face. “Guess I’ll never know who he is.”

  “Well, one thing’s for sure, he must have had a great deal of courage or his son wouldn’t be as good a man as he is.”

  Beck shrugged.

  “I’m sorry that wasn’t the answer we both wanted.” Donovan sighed. “In some ways I regret that Sadie and I didn’t work out. Maybe she would have stayed out of the bottle if she’d had someone to look after her.”

  “Probably not.” He squared his shoulders. “Well, as far as I’m concerned I had two fathers—you and Paul. I couldn’t have asked for better.”

  “That means a lot,” Donovan replied, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

  “Before I leave, I want to see Louisa, and meet her husband. Tell him what a lucky guy he is. Once that’s done, I’ll be headin’ home.”

  “Don’t forget your roots, son. They’re important. And whatever you do, don’t let Riley get away from you. She’s just what you need.”

  It was heartening to know Donovan thought so highly of her. “Yeah, I’m workin’ on that. Not to worry.”

  “Good. She never gave up on you, not once. That’s the kind of woman a man wants by his side.”

  Beck nodded. “I was thinkin’ the same thing.”

  His time in Sadlersville drew to a close. Everything was settled now. With a sense of accomplishment, Beck leaned back to watch the couch, and his past, vanish in a sea of flames.

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  Atlanta lay beneath them like a conquered city, but the view from the roof of One Atlantic Center did not impress the angels. After you’d witnessed the beginning of the cosmos, the mortals’ cities were like a child’s toy.

  The Divine standing next to Ori was the pensive kind, the kind that saw the future with disturbing clarity. It was one of the reasons he’d asked Gusion to join him tonight.

  “Where will you stand if war comes?” his friend asked.

  Ori raised an eyebrow. “Where do you think I should stand? What do you see of our future? You’re known for that talent.”

  “All I see is blood,” the other Fallen angel replied solemnly. “Nothing is clear beyond that.”

  That wasn’t the response he’d expected. “Whose blood?” Ori asked. “Mortals or angels’?”

  “Both.” Gusion turned toward him. “Do not go to war against Lucifer. He will destroy you and all you hold dear.”

  “What if that’s exactly what I want?” Ori parried.

  His old friend shook his head in despair.

  “I have a favor to ask of you, Gusion. You have every right to refuse.”

  Then he laid out what it was he wished, how his fellow angel may well have a role to play in the days to come.

  Gusion ruffled a wing in agitation before he answered. “You ask much.”

  “But will you do it if the need arises?”

  “I shall, though it is not of my nature.”

  “What of the other Divines? Where do they stand?” Ori asked.

  “They are undecided. Though many do not hold you in high regard, they are displeased with the way you have been treated.”

  Ori nodded his understanding. “Lucifer hopes to pit Sartael against me to destroy us both. He has lost sight of what is important.”

  Gusion did not argue that point. “Where is this soul you hold, the one that has made our Prince so angry?”

  “Blackthorne’s Daughter has just returned to the city.”

  “Does she know of the danger she faces, how so many would view her as a means to destroy you?” Gusion asked.

  “Not yet. Riley Anora Blackthorne will learn soon enough.”

  “Is she strong enough, this soul of yours?”

  “She had better be.”

  † ~ ‡ ~ †

  As Beck had promised, Riley found Chris Jackson leaning against the front bumper of his truck outside the Greyhound bus station in Atlanta. The man’s build was on the thin side, and he’d been one of her favorite trappers since she’d joined the Guild.

  “Welcome back to the big city,” he called out, a welcoming smile in place.

  “Hi, Jackson. How’d you get stuck with picking me up?”

  “Volunteered,” he replied.

  He hefted her small suitcase into the back of his truck and then they were headed north into the heart of Atlanta. Since Jackson’s trapping bag took up space on the seat between then, Riley placed her backpack at her feet.

  “How’s Beck?” he asked.

  “Doing okay. You hear what happened?”

  “Yeah. It’s been in the papers.” He shook his head in sympathy. “I can’t imagine him having to carry that weight on his shoulders all those years.”

  “It was really hard. Now they know he’s as much a victim as the other guys.”

  As the trapper took a corner, her backpack flopped over onto her feet and she readjusted it. “So, what’s happening up here? Am I still on someone’s hit list?”

  “Nope. The cops caught up with the dude. He made the mistake of sending threats to the mayor, the governor, and a state senator. He’s done for.”

  “Wow, the company I keep,” she said wryly.

  “Besides that idiot, we’ve got a bunch of new folks who want to join the Guild. A good portion of those are very scary. Most of them actually.” He took in a breath. “Oh, and the Demonland TV crew arrived yesterday. They start filming tomorrow evening.”

  “Why would they come here after everything that happened?”

  “Ratings is what I hear,” Jackson replied. “They really want to know what went down at the cemetery so they can work it into an episode. Harper has threatened to gut anyone who tells them a peep about the battle.”

  She could see her master doing that.

  “I never got to thank you for what you did at the cemetery,” he continued. “I don’t know how you stood up to those angels.”

  “I had no choice,” she said. “Sometimes when you’re cornered you do the impossible.”

  “Is it true Heaven made a deal with you to save Simon’s life?” Jackson asked, looking over at her now.

  It looked like that bit of truth was in the wild now. “Yes, they did.”

  He whistled under his breath. “I’ve only seen him a couple times since the battle and he’s not looking good. I think the guilt is getting to him.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “Okay, now some good news: I passed my master’s exam.”

  “That rocks, Jackson!” she said. “Wow, you have to be jazzed.”

  His grin told her he was. “Now I have to do my thing with an Archfiend and I’m good to go.”

  “You’re not going to try to capture one of those things, are you?” she asked, worried.

  “After what I saw at the cemetery, no way. I’m just going to kill it before it kills me.”

  Riley totally agreed. “You sure Harper will sign off on you to become a master?”

  “He says he will. He’s less of an asshole now that he’s clean and sober. The National Guild has waived its restrictions about the number of apprentices per master. Harper has two new ones to train now.” Jackson gave her a look. “You’re going to love these guys.”

  “Bad news?”

  “Clueless.”

  She laughed. “They’ll feel right at home with me, then.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  The next morning brought a hearty breakfast courtesy of Mrs. Ayers and a scrawled note from Master Stewart that welcomed her home and told her that she was expected at Harper’s new office by ten. He even supplied the address.

  No rest for the damned.

  Since she’d crawled out of bed late, Riley had no time to drop by her apartment though she knew the mailbox would be jammed full by now. She moved that task onto the “later” list and followed Stewart’s directions to her master’s new home.

  When she pulled into the graveled parking lot, she knew she’d found the right place. Like his previous location, Harper had opted for a car repair business that had fallen on hard times. At least this one was in better physical condition than the old one, especially after a Grade Five Geo-Fiend had torn it apart. The new place was constructed of tan brick. One side of the building was two stories and the other—the garage portion—just one. The garage’s twin overhead doors weren’t peeling or warped. In fact, it looked as if they’d recently received a fresh coat of paint.

  “Much better,” she said, nodding her approval. Maybe Harper’s new sobriety was carrying over into other aspects of his life. Or he gotten tired of living in a dump.

  Despite Jackson’s observation that her master was better behaved now, Riley was still apprehensive. She and Harper had a rocky relationship, including a history of bruises he’d left on her during his blistering tirades. Now that she knew him better she understood where that anger had come from, but that didn’t mean she trusted him.

  Right before the battle at Oakland Cemetery, he’d promised that if they made it through the end of the world he and Riley would have a little chat, and that she wouldn’t like what he was going to tell her. She suspected that conversation would conclude with her handing over her trapper’s license.

  I made the deal with Hell. He won’t have any other choice.