The Second Summoning

Wishing she had time to translate, Diana sighed impatiently. “No, I’m not suggesting that. But they’ve given him access to emotions and experiences genderless angels can’t have.”

“I’m happy for him, but there’s a demon loose we can’t find until the angel goes, therefore the angel has to go. And if he knew what was at stake, I’m sure he’d agree. Is he there with you right now? Let me talk to him.”

“No.”

Samuel poked her in the leg. “Your sister wants to talk to me?” She couldn’t lie to him. “Yes.”

“So give me the phone.”

“Not happening.” Scooting out from under his arm, she crossed the room and glared at him from beside the bathroom door, the phone cord stretched taut between them. “One step in this direction and I’ll lock myself in.”

“Diana!”

“Claire!” Attention jerked back to her sister, she rolled her eyes. “You don’t need to yell. It doesn’t matter if he agrees with you or not because I’d still have to kill him, and I won’t do it.”

“For the last time, you wouldn’t be killing him!”

“Would.”

“Stop being so childish. Listen, I can’t get there tonight; the OPP have closed the highway north of Barrie because of the storm. But we’ll be leaving first thing in the morning. This is serious. Send the angel back. Remember your responsibili . . .” Diana jabbed at the power off button and pitched the phone across the room.

“I do not need her to remind me of my responsibilities,” she growled as Samuel rubbed his ear where the phone had clipped him on its way by. “If they knew you, they wouldn’t be able to kill you either.”

“I don’t want to die.”

“Good.”

He sighed and spread his hands. “But there’s a demon in the world, and if returning me to the light would expose the demon . . .”

“You have to say that,” Diana interrupted. “And knock off the sacrificial pose, I’m not buying it.” She threw herself down on the empty bed.

“Bouncing like that will destroy the mattress and the box spring.”

“Who are you getting your Higher Knowledge from, Martha Stewart?”

“Did you know you can create a lovely mailbox cozy out of a piece of felt and only six hundred dollars’ worth of handwoven French taffeta ribbon?”

“What?” She squirmed around and stared.

Samuel grinned.

The corners of her mouth beginning to curve, Diana grabbed a pillow and heaved it at him. “Jerk!”

He wasn’t sure why he considered that a compliment, but he did. “Diana, you have to send me back. I don’t want to go, but I understand why I have to.” Squinting in the sudden glow, Diana sighed. Nothing like self-sacrifice to bring out the angel in a guy. If Claire or any other Keeper met him in this state, they’d send him back without even thinking about it. Easy answer, don’t let Claire or any other Keeper meet him.

And how hard could that be? No Summons, no directions, no way to find them.

“Mom? Claire. When you were talking to Diana a few minutes ago, did she happen to mention what hotel she’s staying at? Carlton Hotel, room 312. Thanks.”

“That looks like room 81Z,” Austin pointed out.

“I’d like to see you do better with an eyeliner on a condom wrapper.”

“Well, it’s nice you found something to use them for.” Dean reached across the cat and picked up the address. “I don’t like this.”

“But they’re the only kind we’ve got.”

“What? No!” Suddenly flustered, he dropped the packet. It bounced off the sniggering cat and rolled under the bed. “I meant, I don’t like going to your mother,” he explained, dropping to his knees and running his hand beneath the edge of the bedspread. “It seems, I don’t know, sneaky.”

“No choice.” Claire folded her legs up out of his way. “First of all, Diana’s confused. Secondly, I’ve dealt with nothing but angel or demon sites since it happened, which is telling me pretty clearly that this is my responsibility. Third . . .” Reaching out, she grinned and ran her fingers through his hair. “... there’s just something about a man on his knees.”

“Claire . . .”

“What?”

“Found it!” Straightening, he was about to toss the packet onto her lap when he frowned. “This isn’t ours . . .”

“Eww.”

Still glowing, although beginning to dim, Samuel lay back on the bed, hands under his head, and stared at the ceiling. “You know what I’d like to experience before I ... go back.”

“You’re not going back,” Diana told him absently. She paced the length of the hotel room one more time, examining and discarding another half-dozen bad ideas.

The best she’d been able to come up with so far had involved rather more duct tape than she thought she could get her hands on.

“But still . . .”

“No.”

“Pizza.”

“What?” Either angels came with euphemisms high school didn’t cover, which was highly unlikely, or that wasn’t the experience she’d been expecting.

“And loud music.”

“Why?”

He shrugged as well as he was able, given his position. “I don’t know.” Well, she hadn’t come up with any better ideas. “I could handle a pizza.”

“I think I just want to eat mine.”