Wordlessly I passed my cup to him and he downed the remains in one long gulp.
“Can I get back to my job now, please?” he said.
“Only if you promise not to lurk under the sill like a creepy stalker. Otherwise you may as well stay in here where you can contribute something useful,” I said.
In response he settled more comfortably on the chair.
“I thought so,” I said dryly. “Do you have any theories about this strange power of mine?”
“Perhaps it is simply Azazel’s power and Katherine’s mixing inside you. I do not know of any other Agents who are also the children of fallen angels,” Beezle said, and he looked questioningly at Gabriel.
“No, I do not believe that there are any others,” Gabriel said. “But I would have to confirm this with Lord Azazel. Additionally, this power is significantly greater than that of a mere Agent, or even Lord Azazel’s. I have never heard of this . . . What would you call it?”
“It was almost like a star bursting inside me, like a sun,” I said slowly. “A tremendous buildup of heat that happened all at once, and then exploded out of me without focus.”
Beezle looked disturbed. “We have to start teaching you how to control your powers. This starburst didn’t harm you—this time. But who knows what may happen next time? The power may be so great that the force of it could hurt you, or even kill you.”
“I’m all for the controlling of the powers,” I said. “I’m getting more than a little tired of feeling like my magic is jerking me around on a chain.”
“Tomorrow, when you are more rested ...” Gabriel said.
He wasn’t able to finish his thought. The doorbell rang, and we all looked at one another in confusion.
“Who could that be?” I asked, as I glanced at the clock and stood up. Gabriel followed suit, coming to stand at my side. “It’s nearly four in the morning.”
“I’m going to see,” Beezle said, alighting from his perch.
“Be careful,” I hissed after him. “Remember what happened when Antares came by for a visit.”
He flapped his claws at me in a don’t-remind-me-I’vegot-it-covered gesture.
The few moments that Beezle was gone seemed interminable. Gabriel quietly took my hand and I laced his fingers tightly in mine. We said nothing and waited for Beezle’s return.
Beezle fluttered back in the window and grimaced at the handholding. I gave him a look that warned him not to bring it up right now.
“It’s J.B.,” he announced.
I let go of Gabriel’s hand and let out an exasperated breath. “Does that idiot Antares think that I’ll fall for this a second time?”
“I think it really is J.B.,” Beezle said. “If he is using magic to disguise himself, then it is a very powerful spell. I looked at him through all five layers of reality and it appears to be J.B. down to the bone.”
“Well, swell,” I said. “It’s not my demon half brother, but if J.B.’s here at this hour, then that means that I’m in trouble for something.”
I hurried down the stairs as the bell rang again a few more times. Swinging open the door at the bottom of the stairs, I saw that J.B. stood inside the foyer, and that reminded me that both Gabriel and Antares had been unable to cross inside from the porch without my permission. The last bit of tension in my gut unknotted. I didn’t really want to see J.B. right now, but at least he wasn’t some horror show coming to take me back to his master in pieces.
“I need to talk to you—now,” he said grimly as soon as he saw me. His face was drawn, his cheeks were stubbled and his hair stuck up all over his head like he’d been pulling on it for several hours—or maybe it was just bedhead. Either way, J.B. looked a mess.
“You look a mess,” I said tactfully. “And it’s a bit early—or a bit late, depending on your point of view—for a social call, don’t you think?”
“I’ve been up all night and I don’t need any of your crap right now, Black,” he said, pushing past me onto the stairs.
“Not bedhead, then,” I mumbled, and closed the door. As I turned to follow him I bumped into his back. “Get going if you have to be here, Jake. Otherwise, I can think of things I would rather be doing right now than standing on the stairs looking at your ass.” No matter how fine it is, I added mentally.
“Who are you?” J.B. demanded.
I peeked around him and saw Gabriel standing at the top of the stairs. He gave J.B. a menacing look.
“That’s my neighbor,” I said, squeezing around J.B. and marching up the stairs. “Stop intimidating J.B., Gabriel.”
Gabriel nodded. “As you wish.”
He disappeared into my apartment. I sighed and beckoned for J.B. to follow.
“What’s he doing here in the middle of the night?” J.B. asked crossly.
“That’s a question that I could ask you,” I said, leading the way into my living room. Beezle had disappeared, although he was probably eavesdropping under the windowsill again. Gabriel had resumed his position in the chair opposite mine.
I didn’t offer J.B. a chair or a drink, but he dropped onto the couch anyway. I closed the front door. Before I could make it to my chair, J.B. launched into his usual speaking mode—attack, attack, attack.
“Just what in the hell happened at Clark and Belmont tonight, Black? Twenty-six souls disappear without a trace or a record of their choice, and you’re the only Agent on scene. The whole intersection looks like it’s been destroyed by flamethrowers. I want some answers and I want them now.”