Chasing Angel (Divisa #3)

Slipping on a pair of black lounge pants and my favorite hoodie, I looked at myself in the mirror. I stared at my large blue eyes and pulled my hair into a no-fuss ponytail. Then I did what any sensible person in my situation would do. I gave myself a pep talk.

“Angel, you need to slap on your Wonderbra and get this rescue-party rolling. You are not going to cry. You are not going to fall to pieces. And you are not going to fail.”

Did I feel better?

Not really.

Did I think I had a chance?

Not in hell.

The real trouble started when I got in my car and left. I half expected to see Chase running behind the car in my rearview mirror. By the time I hopped onto the highway, I began to breathe a little easier. And when I arrived at the shack that Ives called home, I thought I might just succeed. Well, that was if Ives had what I needed.

Cautiously I stepped out of the car and closed the door softly behind me. His house looked sadder than it had a few months ago. Tall fir trees edged the neglected property, isolating the house. If you could call the small structure with its sagging roof a house. Pine needles snapped underfoot as I walked toward the buckling porch. Half of the boards were either loose or missing.

Being here made me long for Chase’s comforting presence.

I raised my hand, and the door with its chipped paint opened before I had a chance to knock. There stood Ives in the doorway, eyeing me with curious green eyes. “Angel.” He said my name in surprise and looked over my head. “You came without Chase?”

“I did. I needed to talk to you.”

“This sounds serious. Come in.” He held the door open as I walked over the threshold.

Inside, it was toasty and warm. “I appreciate you seeing me,” I said, rubbing my freezing hands together. “I know it is a spur-of-the-moment visit.”

He waved a hand aimlessly in the air. “Don’t even mention it. You and Chase are always welcome.”

And I believed him. There was tenderness in his voice. I guess being out here alone all of the time he enjoyed company when he got it. He led the way back to his office, and it was by far the most well-kept and lived-in room.

“Now what can I do for you?” he asked, settling into the oversized leather chair behind the desk.

I crossed my legs and said, “I need to kill a demon.” I didn’t have time for pleasantries or beating around the bush.

He didn’t bat an eye. “Chase’s sire I assume.”

“Gold star.”

His lips tilted. “Well, under normal circumstances I would say you were screwed, but I knew the moment I met you, that you would be the one.”

“Glad to not disappoint. The one what exactly?” I asked.

There were a few moments of dead air before he responded. “Merci wasn’t strong enough, and she gave in to the darkness.” I knew that it was hard to talk about her. The pain was written in every inch of his face. Just speaking her name took effort. It was apparent she was a part of him he kept locked away. “But you…you didn’t.” A glint of pride jumped into his eyes.

I met his gaze. “No. I told Alastair to shove his offer where the sun don’t shine.”

He edged forward in his seat, leaning on the desk. “Does that mean you and Chase have forged the triforce?”

It was so weird having everyone interested in my sex life. It couldn’t have been more awkward if he had come right out and asked me if I was still a member of the virgin club. “I don’t know why that makes a difference. I just need a weapon to destroy him. Can you help me or not?” I asked, folding my arms.

“It makes all the difference in the world. It could mean Chase’s life.”

Threaten Chase and I’d scream it at the top of my lungs. We had sex. I was almost an adult. I could handle a conversation about sex without giggling, blushing like a tomato, or throwing up. “Okay. Fine. We are connected by all three stupid bonds.” I thrust my fingers through my hair.

There was a pause as he stared at me. “You are essentially the most powerful couple in the world.”

I choked.

Say what?

“You don’t need a weapon, Angel. You are the weapon,” he said evenly, like it was the most natural thing in the world to tell someone she was a weapon.

Jesus H Christ.

I hoped he was joking. Maybe living out here by his lonesome had put a few cracks in old Ives’s cranium, because he was definitely off his rocker. I did a double take. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard you.”

He angled his head to the side. “What Alastair is keeping from you is the abilities you have due to the connection you have to Hell. I saw it the night we fought. You have the power to stop him, to send him back to Hell, along with all the other beings Hell devises.”

I blinked. “How is that possible? Wait, scratch that. I have seen too many unexplainable things to question anything anymore. That will work work, huh?” I asked. Why was I always the supernatural guinea pig? Enough already. Let someone else have a turn for Pete’s sake.

He leaned back, hands winding together at the base of his neck. “Fifty percent sure. Are you willing to take the risk?”