Page 54 of Far From Center
Chapter 22
Terrelle gotto work back at Nyalla’s hotel room, mixing up a big batch of margaritas while Snip showered in the bathroom and put on some clothing. By the time he came out, Nyalla was ready for her second drink. Even Gabe had one, although he was nursing his with the occasional tiny sip.
Snip plopped into a chair, gulping the cold beverage and running a towel over his patchy hair. At least Gabe’s healing had grown the skin back over the Low’s scalp. He probably would not be able to get anyone to have sex with him looking like he did, although perhaps some man or woman would take pity on him and decide to take him to bed. Or maybe she could give him a fifty and he could pay for sex like Terrelle had done, She looked at his clumps of hair and bald spots and decided that more than a fifty might be needed.
“They’re staying at the Riu,” Snip said in between swallows of the margarita. “The angel is fucking pissed that this whole thing is taking so long. The Gormand keeps trying to give him excuses and placate him, but I got the feeling that if this didn’t happen today, the angel was going to start smiting right and left.”
“Is it Tura?” Gabe asked?
Snip shrugged. “Don’t know. I’ve met a sum total of three angels in my life and you’re one of them. He’s an angel. And he’s clearly running the show. At least he thinks he is. I’m not sure if he knows about the Gormand trying to pass of a fake Tear or not. Probably not, because I get the idea that in his mind, the Gormand is completely replaceable.”
“Is the angel still there?” Terrelle asked.
Snip nodded. “He’ll probably wait to make sure you all are on the plane home before he leaves. He was really insistent that the Iblis get the Tear. When the Gormand hinted that there might be an issue, the angel flew into a rage. Said no other deal was acceptable. He wanted the collar, and that his reputation would suffer if he broke contract with the Iblis and she didn’t get the Tear.” The Low snorted. “Reputation. The Mistress doesn’t even know what angel she’s dealing with, just the Gormand.”
“But Terrelle says the Gormand gave us the real thing. So I guess he was more worried about the angel’s threats than re-selling the Tear to another,” Nyalla said.
Gabe shot her a look. “I think Terrelle should check once more.”
The information demon stiffened, then picked up the box, slowly taking off the lid. Then she cursed. “That ancient is truly a master. I swear this is a completely different bead than what I saw on the beach. If I hadn’t been carrying it myself, I would have believed that someone switched boxes on me. This–” she turned the box around so they all could see the non-magical Job’s Tear inside, “this is a worse imitation than the ones I put together myself, and I’m no expert at crafting forgeries.”
“You were right,” Nyalla told Gabe. “The Gormand is trying to double-dip on this artifact. He’s still got it, and is hoping to sell it to someone else and profit from that in addition to the commission from brokering the deal with the angel.”
“And he needs this fake to remain undetected until we’re off the island. Then he can claim that someone else must have stolen it from us or done a switch mid-transit and keep the angel from going crazy on him,” Terrelle said.
“Or he’ll be in Hel by then, safely away from Tura’s wrath,” Gabe commented. “No angel is allowed in Hel, and even if they wanted to defy the treaty, it would be suicide to waltz in there and face a hundred thousand demons.”
Nyalla shuddered, knowing exactly what he meant. She’d spent eighteen years in Hel and although the demons could be amusing and silly at times, there was no mistaking that under it all lay an enormous amount of power and a dangerous amorality. There would be nothing that would bring them as much pleasure as plucking the feathers off an angel one-by-one and torturing them. Even an archangel would be quickly overcome by the sheer number of foes in Hel and subdued. Tura wouldn’t be so foolish.
“So we’re back to the original plan.” Terrelle commented. “We go to the airport tomorrow like nothing happened, give our watcher the slip, and enact plan Pick-Pocket The Gormand.”
“Yes. We’ll pack and check out, then meet in the lobby at seven to take a taxi to the airport,” Nyalla said, stifling a yawn. “We can grab a cheap hotel afterward if we need to and take the first plane out tomorrow.”
“Or a boat tomorrow night,” Gabe added. “I don’t feel comfortable staying on this island once we have Job’s Tear. We could charter something to get us to the Dominican Republic, then fly back to the States from there.”
Nyalla hid a smile, thinking how far he’d come in the last few days.
“If that’s settled, then I need to go to bed,” Snip announced. “Being healed by an angel takes a lot out of a demon, even if the angel is walking around as a human right now. I’m going to pack up all my souvenirs, see if I can convince the front desk clerk to give me a blow-job, then get some sleep.”
Terrelle rolled her eyes. “Go on. I’m going to work a bit more on these fake Job’s Tears and see if I can modify them further.” She looked over toward Gabe and Nyalla, her eyebrows springing upward. “Or maybe I’ll take them all into my room and work there. You guys look like you could use some sleep too.”
The demon scooped up the beads and put the lid back on the box the Gormand had given them, and with a jerk of her head to Snip, headed for the door. “Finish off those margaritas, pack your bags, and we’ll see you in the morning.”
Snip looked confused as she grabbed his arm and pulled him out the door.
Nyalla hid a smirk behind her margarita glass. “I’ll pack. You finish nursing that drink.”
He pushed the glass over toward her. “You finish it and I’ll pack. Given your housekeeping skills, I’m seriously concerned about your ability to pack a bag. I shudder to think of the condition your belongings will arrive in when you return. Drink. Relax. I’ll take care of it.”
Nyalla leaned back in her chair, propping her feet up and watching Gabe as she sipped the drink. This was nice, having someone else take care of the chores while she relaxed. Cleaning, packing, and organizing were her least favorite things in the world, but Gabe seemed to enjoy the whole process, humming to himself as he neatly folded everything and carefully placed it in the suitcase. He was done in record time, with far more room left in her luggage than there would have been had she just balled everything up and crammed it in there. He’d even chosen an outfit for her and put it out across a chair, leaving essential toiletries lined up by the sink. Once the suitcases were situated by the door, he returned to the chair, scooping her feet up and putting them in his lap once he’d sat.
“Here. Help me finish this. If I drink any more I’ll have a hangover tomorrow,” Nyalla said, handing him a glass with the last of the margaritas in it.
He drank it down in one gulp, shuddering as he put the empty glass on the table, then he removed her sandals and began to massage her feet. She leaned back, closing her eyes and enjoying the feel of his warm hands on her.
“You’re still tense from everything — Snip’s kidnapping, the exchange with the demons. Get undressed and lay down, and I’ll help you relax.”
She popped open her eyes, unsure if he meant what that proposal sounded like. “All of my clothes?”
