Kiss & Hell (Hell #1)

Uriel . . . the Big Kahuna’s eyes and ears. So he was here to collect Clyde. And that meant she had to say good-bye to him all over again. Tee-rific. Son of a bitch. If there was ever an example of a time when a man didn’t listen to a woman, this was one of them.

Uriel held out a hand to her with a compassionate smile, pulling her to stand, then righting her when she faltered with a strong grip. “I’m stupid sorry you got all wicked tangled up in this, Delaney. But I’ll take care of him.” He nodded his head in the direction of a helpless Satan.

Delaney reached out to steady herself, only to find Clyde right beside her, placing a hand on her waist.

Clyde lifted his chin, straightening his hospital gown with his free hand, and looked Uriel square in the eye. “Appreciate the help, but here’s where I’m at. If your job is to collect me, I’m not leaving Delaney until I know she’s safe. I want someone’s word—someone in charge—that she’ll be looked after or you’ll have to do far worse than he did to get me to leave.”

Delaney stood on tippy-toe and whispered in Clyde’s ear, “I know you don’t know much about Heaven and Hell, but here’s a tip. Shut up before you make this worse. Do you have any idea who he is? He’s an archangel. Think wings and halos and omnipotence. Biblical lesson number one—do not, and I repeat, do not ever tell him no.”

Uriel chuckled, slapping Clyde on the back with a good-natured thump. “No need to get hinky, boss. It’s all good.”

Good? No. This was anything but good. Instead of following her own advice in the presence of überangel, her frustration finally got the better of her.

She looked up at Clyde with blazing eyes. “And now, because of you, we have to do this all over again. Now my eyes’ll be all red and my nose, which gets ugly and splotchy, is going to run because I’ll be crying. How many ways can I define dead to you, buddy? What were you thinking getting out of that bed? I was going to meet you at the light. But no. You have to go all super Clyde on me and administer CPR. Is there anything you don’t know how to do? You’ve got nerve saving my life. I think you were just trying to get out of listening to Michael Bublé because now you have to go and I have to stay. Good job.”

Clyde kissed the tip of her nose, his eyes grim. “I promise to never save your life again.”

“Swear?”

“Swear it on a banana Slurpee.”

The panic, terror, complete helplessness she’d felt when Lucifer had hurled himself at Clyde battered at her again. The notion that he’d taken the chance to have his soul snatched back up and returned to the place he’d started, that he’d sacrificed himself for her, made her chest ache and warm simultaneously. “Why, why, why would you do that?”

Uriel leaned in between the two of them, his shiny eyes amused. “ ’Cause I’m thinkin’ he’s crushin’ on ya, and that’s crazy cool. So stop beating him down and listen to where we’re at. First up, Clyde, dude, get back in the bed—Vincent’s soul is outta here and you’re clear for takeoff. Then I want you to go to sleep. Tomorrow’s a big day. You’re gonna have a miraculous recovery, all unex plainable and medical mystery-ish. You got some bogus deal because I didn’t show up when I was supposed to, man. So I figure I owe ya. All ya gotta do is play along because making this just vanish would alter stuff I just can’t play with, okay?” He held out his fist, closed and facing Clyde, to seal the deal. “Let’s blow it up, dude.”

Clyde frowned at the angel’s hand, bewildered.

Dizzy and weak with gratitude and relief, Delaney wiped yet more tears from her face and showed Clyde what Uriel meant when he offered his fist. “Like this,” she said, knocking fists with Uriel, then spreading her fingers wide as she pulled back. “You know, to blow it up.”

Uriel chuckled. “Yeah, like that. Ya know, you’re one rad wahine, Delaney Markham. I owe you, too. ’Cause you saved Clyde’s soul—a bunch of souls, in fact. If we had club presidents for mediums upstairs, you’d be my nominee.”

Delaney reached out a hand to Uriel, letting her fingers find his, and squeezed with a weak grip, mouthing, “Thank you.”

“Now who’s glad I saved their life? I think you owe me a banana Slurpee, medium,” Clyde teased just before capturing her lips with a kiss. A kiss filled with promise—with the anticipation of things to come—with the thrill of discovery.

Her arms slipped under his, savoring this gift. The gift of opportunity. The gift of life.

Uriel’s grin was wide. “Okay, then, we’re coo’. Now you two knock it off and save that for tomorrow. Clyde—get back in that bed. I’ll see ya both someday on the flipside.”

Delaney helped a tired Clyde into the bed, tucking the blanket up under his chin, running a hand over his handsome face.

Before he did as Uriel commanded, Clyde held his hand out to Delaney and winked. She took it, clutching it with shaky fingers, pulling it up to her cheek.