“Close your eyes, man.” Uriel let his free hand glide over Clyde’s face. “Sweet dreams,” he whispered.
Clyde obeyed, and in moments, his chest rose and fell with easy breaths. Her heart shifted, thumping against her rib cage. Seeing that he was settled, she had a couple of things to clear up. One a huge concern, and one a niggling worry. She turned to Uriel. “Two questions?”
“Shoot.”
Delaney’s heart throbbed with painful thumps. “My friend Marcella . . . I know it’s a lot to ask after all this, but—I just need—I need to know she’s okay. I know she’s a demon, and that’s way bad in your book—like no-going-back bad—but she risked everything to help us. Don’t you guys have, like, a ‘time served’ program—something—anything . . .” Her gaze went to Satan’s narrowed, angry eyes and fear seeped into her gut for her friend’s well-being. Casting Uriel an imploring glance, she said, “He’ll hurt her—”
Uriel held up a hand and leaned in to whisper, “You know I can’t make promises like that, Delaney. She made a choice, wahine, and it so wasn’t the right one, but she’s the horned one’s territory and I can’t change that because it would screw up the balance of good and evil—or something like that. But I will promise you this—I’ll try to hook her up, and you’re gonna have to trust me enough not to ask anything else.” His gaze was pointed when he added, “Try to rest easy where your BFF is concerned, okay?” Then he smiled at Lucifer. “Now ask me question number two so I can get this monkey off my back.”
Delaney breathed a shuddered sigh of relief. Uriel’s eyes said far more than his words and she’d cling to them in the hopes that Marcella would be safe from Satan’s wrath. “Okay, question two. When he wakes up, is it going to be like all those stupid movies where he has no frickin’ clue who I am? I saw that in some movie once, and the poor guy had to start all over again because his woman didn’t know who he was. I have to tell you, I like him just like this. He gets that I have the gift of sight. No questions asked when some crazy ghost shows up in the middle of . . . well, you know. That would suck. He’s broken in.”
Uriel’s face wore understanding, his eyes read warm. “That would be so bogus, huh? Nah. He’ll remember. Promise. It’s the least I can do for screwing this up. Chill, everything’s good.” Uriel gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, preparing to leave.
“Wait, just one more thing. How did Clyde get up out of that bed? He was . . .”
“Dead? Yep, fo sho. Whew! It took me centuries upstairs and more levels than you have dogs to learn it, too. But it’s a trade secret, ya feel me?”
Delaney’s nod was grave, but her smile was warm. “Thank you. You have no idea how much . . .” She couldn’t finish. This gift—this “get out of jail free” card—had overwhelmed her.
Uriel winked. “Oh, I think I do. And now, I’m out.” He gave her the hang ten sign before sighing with displeasure in Lucifer’s direction. “And you, Dr. Doom, you and me, we got plans. How do ya feel about Dream Girls? It was righteous. Or maybe because you’re so bent all the time you might like something funny. You know, like ha-ha, Uriel stomped me again, funny?”
His voice trailed off, and then he and the devil were swallowed up by the velvety black of the night just outside Clyde’s hospital room window.
Delaney shuddered a breath, closing her eyes and bowing her head. Thank you, thank you, thank you, she said in silent gratitude before putting down the bed rail and stretching out beside Clyde. Her head found the spot on his chest where his heart beat in strong, satisfying pumps. She sighed with a contentment she’d never known before.
As the sun pushed its way through the big window in Clyde’s hospital room, the bright orange, settled among deep purple slashes, stirred Clyde.
Delaney sat up with a start, her heart jolting at first with fear, then fluttering to an even rhythm with relief when Clyde said, “So, ghost lady—does this mean I have to eat tofu while we listen to Michael Bublé?”
epilogue
“Hey, ghost guru—penny for them,” Clyde whispered playfully in her ear when he kneeled beside her grandmother’s newly upholstered chair upon his return from work. The reupholstery he’d paid for.
Delaney’s lips instantly pursed for a kiss, her heart speeding up when his handsome face peered into hers. “I cost way more than that, Mr. Reincarnated, and don’t call me ghost guru anymore, okay? It’s still a raw nerve.”
Clyde kissed her lips, tracing them with his finger, shooting her a smile of sympathy.