“You’re in luck,” Vee said. “We know just the thing to fill up your night. You’re gonna hang with two of the coolest girls in all of Coldwater, Mr. Dante Matterazzi.”
“Dante doesn’t dance,” I quickly interjected.
“I’ll make an exception, just this once,” he answered, opening the door for us.
Vee clapped her hands, jumping up and down. “I just knew this night was gonna rock!” she squealed, ducking under Dante’s arm.
“After you,” Dante said, placing his palm on the small of my back and guiding me inside. I batted his hand away, but to my aggravation, he leaned close and murmured, “Glad we had this little chat.”
We haven’t resolved anything, I spoke to his mind. This whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing? Nothing is settled. Just a little something to bear in mind. And for the record, my best friend isn’t supposed to know you exist.
Your best friend thinks I should give your boyfriend a run for his money, he said, sounding amused.
She thinks anything with a beating heart should replace Patch. They have unresolved issues.
Sounds promising.
He followed me down the short hall leading to the dance floor, and I felt his haughty, goading smile the whole way.
The loud monotone beat of the music drove into my skull like a hammer. I pinched the bridge of my nose, cringing against a swelling headache. I had one elbow perched on the bar, and I used my free hand to press a glass of ice water against my forehead.
“Tired already?” Dante asked, leaving Vee on the dance floor to slide onto a bar stool beside me.
font><p width="1em"><font face="Times New Roman">“Any idea how much longer she’s going to last?” I asked wearily.<font>
“Looks to me like she’s caught her second wind.”
“Next time I’m in the market for a best friend, remind me to shy away from the Energizer Bunny. She keeps going and going. . . .”
“You look like you could use a ride home.”
I shook my head. “I drove, but I can’t leave Vee here. Seriously, how much longer can she possibly last?” Of course, I’d been asking myself the same question for the past hour.
“Tell you what. Go home. I’ll stay with Vee. When she finally drops, I’ll give her a ride.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to get mixed up in my personal life.” I tried to sound surly, but I was exhausted, and the conviction just wasn’t there.
“Your rule, not mine.”
I chewed my lip. “Maybe just this once. After all, Vee likes you. And you actually have the stamina to keep dancing with her. I mean, this is a good thing, right?”
He nudged my leg. “Quit rationalizing and get out of here already.”
To my surprise, I sighed with relief. “Thanks, Dante. I owe you.”
“You can pay me back tomorrow. We need to finish our earlier conversation.”
And just like that, any benevolent feelings washed away. Once again, Dante was the thorn in my foot, relentless in his pestering. “If anything happens to Vee, I’m holding you personally responsible.”
“She’ll be fine, and you know it.”
I might not like Dante, but I did trust he’d do what he said. After all, he reported to me now. He’d sworn allegiance to me. Maybe my role as leader of all Nephilim would have a few perks after all. On that note, I left.
It was a cloudless night, the moon a haunting blue against the black of night. As I walked to my car, the music from the Devil’s Handbag echoed like a distant rumble. I inhaled the chilly October air. Already my headache ebbed.
The untraceable cell phone Patch had given me rang in my handbag.
“How was girls’ night out?” Patch asked.
“If Vee had her way, we’d be here all night.” I stepped out of my shoes and slung them on my finger. “All I can think about is bed.”
“We’re sharing the same thought.”
“You’re thinking about bed too?” But Patch had told me that he rarely slept.
“I’m thinking about you in my bed.”
My stomach did one of those flutter things. I’d stayed the night at Patch’s place for the first time last night, and while the attraction and temptation had definitely been there, we’d managed to sleep in different rooms. I wasn’t sure how far I wanted to take our relat peke our ionship, but instinct told me Patch wasn’t quite so indecisive.
“My mom’s waiting up,” I said. “Bad timing.” Speaking of bad timing, I unwillingly recalled my most recent conversation with Dante. I needed to bring Patch up to speed. “Can we meet tomorrow? We need to talk.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
I smacked a kiss into the phone. “I missed you tonight.”
“The night’s not over. After I finish up here, I could swing by your place. Leave your bedroom window unlocked.”
“What are you working on?”
“Surveillance.”
I frowned. “Sounds vague.”
“My target’s on the move. I have to roll,” he said. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
And he hung up.
I padded down the sidewalk, wondering who Patch was keeping an eye on, and why—the whole thing sounded a little ominous—when my car, a white 1984 Volkswagen Cabriolet, came into view. I threw my shoes into the backseat and dropped behind the wheel. I stuck the key in the ignition, but the engine didn’t roll over. It repeatedly made a strained, chugging sound, and I took the opportunity to think a few choice and inventive words at the worthless piece of scrap metal.
The car had fallen into my lap as a donation from Scott, and had given me more hours of grief than actual miles on the road. I hopped out and propped the hood, glaring speculatively at the greasy labyrinth of hoses and containers. I’d already dealt with the alternator, the carburetor, and the spark plugs. What was left?
“Car trouble?”
I flipped around, surprised by the sound of a nasally male voice behind me. I hadn’t heard anyone approach. More perplexing, I hadn’t sensed him.
“It would appear so,” I said.
“Need some help?”
“Pretty much I just need a new car.”
He had a greasy, nervous smile. “Why don’t I give you a lift? You look like a nice girl. We could have a nice talk while we drive.”
I kept my distance, my mind spinning wildly as I tried to place him. Instinct told me he wasn’t human. Nor was he Nephilim. Funny thing was, I didn’t think he was a fallen angel, either. He had a round, cherubic face topped with a thatch of yellow-blond hair, and floppy Dumbo ears. He looked so harmless, in fact, that it made me instantly suspicious. Instantly uneasy.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll catch a ride with my friend.”
His smile vanished and he lunged for my sleeve. “Don’t go.” His voice rose to a whine of desperation.
I took several startled steps back.
“That is— I mean— I was trying to say—” He gulped, then hardened his eyes into glittering beads. “I need to talk to your boyfriend.”
My heart beat faster and a panicky thought seized me. What if he was Nephilim and I couldn’t detect it? What if he really did know about me and Patch? What if he’d found me tonight to get a message across—that Nephilim and fallen angels don’t mix? I was a brand-new Nephil, no match for him if it came to a physical confrontation.