2 Pocket Full of Posies Page 2

  Josie wouldn’t be making the mistake of signing up for a class with me again anytime soon. She was already on the recommendation list of Paul Brom, the instructor of the other class she was taking, the Art of Soul Hypnosis. Paul’s class was a prerequisite for the Recovery Unit, while Grace’s covered the Posy and Lost Souls Units. Josie liked to keep her options open, a quality she shared with Jenni Fang, her ambitious roommate.

  I hated to admit it, but I was feeling more than a little guilty for not giving my all in Grace’s class. I mean, she was the same generation as my late mentor. I’m sure that had helped her decision to fill out my placement proposal when Horus approached her. The hopeless stare she staked me with every time my mouth opened in her classroom didn’t help mask her disappointment any either.

  “All right, my little death merchants.” Grace handed off a stack of papers to her apprentice. “Clair is passing out your last assignment, which will also serve as part of your final for this course. This assignment will require you to work with a partner. There will also be a multiple choice exam after your presentations, which will count for fifty percent of your final scores.”

  Craig’s hand jerked into the air, not that he ever waited to be called on. “How many questions will be on this exam, and which chapters should we review?”

  Grace sighed one of her bored, annoyed sighs, the kind I rather enjoyed when not induced by myself, and glared at Craig. “If you would have let me finish, you’d know by now.”

  I couldn’t help myself. The snicker squeezed out along with my none-too-subtle commentary. “Moron.”

  Instead of the annoyed glare I was accustomed to, Grace’s eyebrows twitched upward with a cruel sort of justice. “Lana, perhaps you could enlighten Craig here with your expertise by pairing up with him on this last assignment.”

  “What?” I sat up rigid in my chair.

  “I insist.” She pressed her horn-rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose and gazed over the class. “In fact, I expect all of you to choose a partner you’ve never worked with before. It’s a challenge you may very well face in the fields you’re entering, so consider it a necessary challenge you must overcome in order to pass this course.”

  “But Craig’s impossible,” I blurted, sounding more hysterical by the second. That earned me another pinch from Josie. She had been right, of course. I should have kept my big mouth shut until the semester was over.

  Grace turned her back to the class and began writing on the blackboard, not even acknowledging my outburst. She was resolved in her decision and of high enough rank that she didn’t feel the need to argue with a peon like me.

  Craig twisted around in his seat to give me one of his most charming, shit-eating grins.

  “Think you can manage to keep your mouth shut now?” Josie snarled in my ear.

  I huffed and leaned back in my chair, folding my arms in disgust… at myself. How, oh how, did I manage to get myself into these situations.

  Chapter 3

  “A man’s got to believe in something.

  I believe I’ll have another drink.”

  -W.C. Fields

  Josie gave me one of her full-blown lectures after class. Strangely, I wasn’t bothered by it. Really, what could be worse than having to work with Craig? I was beginning to wonder if there was a vaccine for annoyance. Probably not. I’d just have to subject myself to Josie more often. Eventually, I would become immune.

  Josie had also managed to find out about the baseball game I’d blown off her study group for. Kicking Gabriel in the feathered balls was at the top of my to-do list for the evening. Right after a drink.... or ten.

  Purgatory was lively for a Monday night. I had a feeling it had something to do with Xaphen’s new soul food menu. Even the nephilim were following their noses into the bar, thick with the warm smell of barbeque ribs and fried okra. Xaphen ran from table to table, filling pitchers and delivering plates of sizzling, southern-fried goodies. When he found a few seconds to take a smoke break, I saw him hang a help wanted sign in the front window.

  I frowned into my empty beer mug and folded my arms over the scarred, oak table. The bobby pins holding up my dark mop of curls were threatening a headache, while the glittery trim of my dress scratched at my throat. I had to be the most depressingly dolled-up third wheel in the whole joint. Gabriel and Amy sat across from me, playing footsie a little too harshly to be mistaken for foreplay.

  Gabriel’s wings twitched and a patch of crimson blotches spread over his face, growing fiercer with each hissing syllable Amy spat at him. I had stopped listening when the conversation morphed into a personal attack on Gabriel’s work ethic. I’d heard it all before, and my thoughts were tangled up in my own misery at the moment.

  Maalik was over an hour late, which meant he probably wouldn’t be showing up at all, and I would be getting the “work first, play later” speech the next time I saw him. Whenever that would be. The drill was getting old, but not the sex. I guess fifty years of celibacy will do that to a person. But the sex wouldn’t be enough to keep us together forever. Eventually, some changes would have to be made.

  “Don’t you agree, Lana?”

  “Huh?” I lifted my chin off my palm and stared absently at Amy. I was so beyond pretending to care about their mind-numbing soap opera.

  I was still dumbfounded by Gabriel and Amy’s union, as was most of Limbo City. They had made the headlines more than once in the local tabloid magazine, Limbo’s Laundry. It was unheard of for an angel and a demon to date, especially an angel and a demon of their rank. Of course, Gabriel hadn’t been too active in the field or in afterlife politics lately. He had become something of a drifter after the death of my mentor, Saul Avelo. His reputation followed him around like a flashing neon sign anyway.

  Amy, on the other hand, was as ambitious as Gabriel was lazy. She was a president of Hell and commanded thirty-six legions. If that wasn’t enough, she was also highly active on the Hell Committee and ran the Inferno Chateau, the hottest new vacation spot in Hell. It featured its own museum and volcanic hiking trails. She and Gabriel were definitely an unlikely pair. It was stranger still that she seemed to be a good influence on him.

  Amy cleared her throat. “Gabriel should show more dedication to his career so he has a shot at a council position next term.”

  “What makes you think I want a council position?” Gabriel snorted and put his mug down hard enough to draw a few unpleasant glares from the neighboring tables.

  Amy followed their lead with a glare of her own and dipped a manicured finger in his beer, sending the amber liquid boiling.

  “Hey!” Gabriel jerked his hand away a second shy of a scalding.

  “Well, it’s been a blast.” I stood and pulled my jacket on.

  “You’re leaving?” Gabriel gave me a look of panic. “Why don’t you stay? I’ll buy another pitcher,” he offered, doing a lousy job of keeping the strain out of his voice.

  Amy huffed and snatched her purse off the table. “I’m going to the ladies room. Have a nice night, Lana.” She tossed her fiery curls back and stormed off, snapping her spiked tail around her ankles like a whip.

  I whistled and shook my head. “Good luck with her tonight.”

  “Eh.” Gabriel shrugged. “If I lay it on thick enough, we’ll have some pretty incredible make-up sex later.”

  “More than I needed to know.” I frowned. “Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the training course sooner.”

  Gabriel switched his spoiled mug with Amy’s and finished off her cold brew. “No worries. I mean, becoming a demon-proof ninja is a good thing, right?”

  “I guess.” I laughed.

  “Sorry I slipped up and spilled to Josie about the ball game.” He actually blushed. Usually Gabriel was pretty good at keeping secrets. He kept enough from Peter.

  “I’ll make it up to her.” I sighed and gave him a half-hearted wave as I left.

  I tucked my hands in my pockets and kicked my boots along the sidewalk. To
day had been a total bust. It felt like a divine sign that the week wouldn’t be getting any better, but I tried to brush it off. Tomorrow was a new day. And hey, at least my hellhounds, Saul and Coreen, were waiting for me at home. I sometimes wondered if Maalik hadn’t just bought them to keep me company, foreseeing all the long and lonely nights he would be standing me up.

  Hushed snoring vibrated through the apartment when I entered. It broke just enough that I knew Coreen had woke to sniff the air and make sure it was only me. I tossed my jacket over a kitchen chair and dug a bottle of red wine out of the refrigerator. It was a Zeus special, over three hundred years old, and worth every single coin it had cost. I had planned on saving it for mine and Maalik’s anniversary, but he’d probably have to work late anyway. I didn’t bother finding a glass. It’s not like there was anyone around to complain if I drank from the bottle.

  I kicked off my boots and fell on the couch with a miserably fitting groan. Somehow, being with Maalik made me feel more alone than I had felt before he came along. At least before, I was okay turning in at night by myself. I didn’t have any expectations about where my evenings would find me. I guess with the direction our relationship was headed, I still shouldn’t have had any expectations. With Maalik serving on the council, it was nearly impossible for him to give me a definite yes or no for any occasion, let alone a simple date out to Purgatory Lounge. That didn’t mean I was any less disappointed.

  I sucked down a third of the bottle of wine and marinated in the rush of warm fuzzies that followed. This was my life. I was stuck back at the academy, which I hated, forced to work on my final assignment with Craig Hogan, whom I hated even more than the academy, freaking out about Horus’s illegal side job, and dealing—okay, not dealing—with my mostly absent boyfriend. Oh, and babysitting the fragile soul that held this entire crap-hole together, I remembered as my gaze stumbled over the cardboard box sitting on my coffee table.

  Winston was so not cut out for the secret throne of Eternity. The cardboard box was full of baseball cards, junk food, and dime-a-dozen trinkets, things Winston lovingly called his life support. The council was still patting me on the back for a job well done. I just wanted to forget the whole thing had ever happened. Winston wasn’t exactly the cute little dying boy I remembered from the hospital I’d harvested his soul from. Not after Meng Po’s potion. He was quickly becoming a bigger pain in my ass than his dear old ancestor, Horus. Tomorrow, after I got off work, I had promised to deliver his goodies as long as he promised not to sneak out and get himself into any trouble.

  Winston didn’t like being cooped up in his little palace, and I could hardly blame him. But his safety was top priority. After Grim stopped meeting his frivolous demands, he had turned to me. I could either bring him his box of junk every week, or cross my fingers and hope he didn’t turn up missing. And as much as everything sucked at the moment, I really didn’t want to be responsible for the Second War of Eternity. I was going to be in enough hot water once Grim found out I was still in contact with Winston.

  Khadija had let me in on the location of his little hidey-hole just before Meng Po’s special tea had wiped her memory clean, all thirteen hundred years of service on the secret throne. Unfortunately, the tea didn’t have the same effect on Winston. He still retained all the silly desires of his modern life and several lives in between. He was like six annoying little brothers I never knew I had.

  I stuck my tongue out at the box, downed the rest of my wine, and crawled in bed with Saul and Coreen. I was determined to smell like a hung-over dog for breakfast, just in case Maalik decided to show up. No need letting him think I couldn’t have a good time without him.

  Chapter 4

  “I do not believe in an afterlife,

  although I am bringing a change of underwear.”

  -Woody Allen

  I awoke to the smell of bacon grease and frying eggs. It made my stomach so happy that I almost forgot Maalik had stood me up the night before. My feathered chef stood humming over the stove with a spatula in each hand, flipping pancakes and eggs simultaneously. I had to peel my eyes away from his butt, clad in nicely fitting blue jeans, before making a clumsy dash for the bathroom. I definitely smelled like a hung-over dog.

  “Mission accomplished,” I groaned at myself in the mirror. My mascara was crusty and my dark curls had tangled themselves into an unruly afro that I would have to tame after breakfast, when I could take half a bottle of conditioner to it. I slapped some cold water on my face and tissued off my expired makeup before fingering as much of my hair as I could into an elastic band. I peeled off my party dress and wrapped myself in a yellow terry cloth robe Josie had bought for me on our last shopping extravaganza.

  Maalik was busy setting the table when I stepped out of the bathroom. I leaned against the couch, the unofficial divider between my kitchen and living room in the tiny studio apartment, and tried like crazy not to smile. I was still mad at him for standing me up again, but he had figured out some time ago that the quickest path to my forgiveness was a home-cooked breakfast. Who says eggs and coffee can’t be foreplay?

  Maalik turned around with a smile. His dark curls were pulled back in a low ponytail that trailed over his shoulder and down his bare chest, nearly touching one of his perfect nipples. I loved that he was comfortable enough in my crummy little apartment to walk around shirtless.

  “I’m really sorry about last night,” he began with a confident grin.

  “But duty calls,” I finished in a mocking sing-song, before snatching up a cup of coffee, presweetened to perfection by my groveling honey.

  Maalik cleared his throat and had the decency to blush. “I rather prefer our quiet morning dates at home to the noisy dates in bars.”

  “Oh, me too. You actually show up for the morning dates.”

  Maalik’s flirty grin drooped. He threw his hands up in dramatic helplessness. I sat at the table and picked up a piece of toast. I could be mad and still appreciate my apology breakfast.

  “I don’t really have to explain this to you again, do I?” Maalik huffed as he took the seat across from me and forked an egg onto his plate.

  “I think I have it memorized by now. Why? Will there be a test?” I sneered and reached for the maple syrup. He beat me to it. The jerk.

  “Maybe. If you keep this up.” He dangled the syrup in front of me, pulling back when I reached for it.

  I glared at him. “Why am I dating you again?”

  “Because, I’m too sexy for my shirt,” he sang.

  I knew I was going to regret helping him update his music collection. But he did bounce around to more enjoyable tunes these days. So long, heavenly orchestra mixed tapes. Sometimes, if I could keep my eyes off his butt long enough, I even made a valid point during our arguments.

  Four pancakes, six strips of bacon, two eggs, and a cup of coffee later, I was naked. Yes, that fast. I’m a sucker. What can I say? Maalik nuzzled his head between my breasts with a content sigh, while I sighed with frustration. The calm stretch of obliviousness that came after sex was growing shorter each time we were together, quickly giving way to the shame of being such a pushover.

  I ran my hand up the back of his neck and through his damp curls. “When you don’t show up, like last night, not only does it make me look ridiculous, but it hurts my feelings.”

  “Well.” Maalik sighed, rising off me. “That didn’t last long.”

  “What?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “Your break from attacking me.” He found his jeans, abandoned on the floor, and stood to tug them on.

  “You can’t just keep walking out every time I get upset over you standing me up.”

  “Lana.” Maalik threw his hands up. It was a surrendering gesture I was starting to despise. “My hands are tied. It’s not like I have a choice when it comes to the council. The best I can do is apologize. I’m truly sorry.”

  “I know.” I closed my eyes.

  Maalik sat back down on the edge of my bed and took bot
h of my hands into his. “The placement ceremony is two weeks away, and Grim has us working overtime as it is. We still haven’t come across any leads to where Seth or Caim might be hiding, but I’m certain we haven’t seen the last of them.”

  I nodded.

  “I’m sure after the ceremony is over things will calm down. We could take a little vacation. Maybe to Heaven or Summerland this time?”

  “Sure.” I sighed.

  Maalik’s wings twitched. He frowned and squeezed my hands tighter. “You should really be focusing on your studies if you want to be placed on the Posy Unit. Maybe we should take a little break, just until finals are over. I don’t want to be a distraction.”

  I scowled at him. “Oh, really? Because we see each other so much as it is. You’d rather just not show up at all? Fine.” I slid off the bed, wrapping the sheets around me as I stormed off into the bathroom and slammed the door, pressing my back against it.

  “Lana,” Maalik groaned through the door. “Lana, I have to go, but we’ll talk soon, okay?”

  I didn’t answer. A second later I heard the front door shut. Only then did I allow myself to slide down the bathroom door and sob myself into hysterics.

  You would think that being over three centuries old would give me an advantage in these situations, but I was really out of practice. Though I was sure that dating someone as unavailable as Maalik would have been enough to unravel even the most casual of lovers.

  Before being voted onto the Afterlife Council, Maalik had worked part-time guarding the gates of Hell. As an Islamic angel, he was still quite loyal to Allah, so being stuck in Hell wasn’t his idea of fun. He had high expectations when he moved to Limbo to join the council, but aside from our brief dates, if you could call them dates, he spent the vast majority of his time tied up in council meetings, hashing over the political turmoil of Eternity. Had I known what I was getting myself into, I might have resisted him a little more adamantly.