Eve of Destruction (Marked #2) - Page 16/57

“How do these things happen around you? I’ve only been gone a few hours!”

“Hey,” she said defensively, “I didn’t do anything.”

Molenaar yelled from the kitchen, “You attacked me, krankzinnige vrouw!”

“Why is he calling you a crazy woman?” Alec asked. “And why did you attack him?”

“Ignore him.” She crossed the living room and exited the house for privacy. Due to lack of heating, the house wasn’t much warmer than the outside, but the addition of a breeze helped cool her overheated skin.

“Shit.”

“Not my fault. Besides, you’re supposed to take my side. You’re my mentor.”

“Okay.” He exhaled with deliberation. “Let’s take it from the top. The feverish feeling is probably just your body’s adjustment to the changes it’s going through. You remember how it was when you went through the first part of it.”

Oh yeah, she would never forget. She had felt as if she was on fire from the inside out and the need for sex had nearly driven her insane. Who would have thought God would tie two such disparate concepts as killing and loving into the same event? Then again, Eve had always thought the Almighty had a sick sense of humor.

“Probably?” she persisted, picking up on his slight hesitation. “What else could it be?”

“Well . . . there is the Novium.”

“The Novium?”

“It hits Marks right before their mentoring ends and they’ve achieved some autonomy.”

“So it can’t be that.”

“Right. It’s way too soon. So you’re adjusting, that’s all.”

She kicked at the ground. “Sucks.”

“I bet. As for you jumping your classmate . . . He apparently didn’t like what you did, so it’s not sexual. Since that’s the only thing I would give a shit about—aside from you hurting yourself—we’ll just chalk that up to you being you.”

“I hope you’re not expecting a warm welcome when you get back,” she muttered.

“Hot and sweaty, actually. Can’t wait.” A seductive purr rumbled across the cellular waves.

Eve’s mood changed from hot and irritable to hot and bothered. “Better be nice to me, then.”

“I’ll be very nice to you, angel. You’ve never had any complaints. Now about the dog incident . . . I admit, that bothers me. What is Raguel doing about it?”

“Nothing that I can see. He told me to let him handle it.”

“There must be a reason why he’s not pressing the issue.”

“Apathy?”

“I know you don’t trust him, so trust me. He’s got it covered.”

Eve’s free hand went to her hip. “You aren’t here, Alec. He didn’t even blink when Izzie killed that poor dog.”

“As an archangel, he’s closer to God. I’m guessing the connection is similar to trying to watch television and carry on a conversation at the same time. He’s distracted, not careless.”

“So you say.”

“When I’m called to stand before Jehovah, I lose all sense of everything—time, feelings, reality. It’s very . . . serene. I can’t imagine how the archangels make it through their days with that connection open all the time.”

“Regardless, I’m watching my own back.” She looked around, making sure she was still alone. “I can’t help but think that it’s a little too convenient that Izzie acted when she did.”

“I know you can’t stay out of trouble, but can you please keep yourself safe?”

“Ha. So says the man with a naked demon in his shower.”

The door opened behind her. Eve faced it. Montevista gestured her back with a jerk of his chin.

“I’m being summoned,” she said, as she moved toward the house.

“Phone on you at all times. Got it?”

“Hey, I tried to call you earlier and you didn’t answer.”

“Won’t happen again.” Alec’s voice softened and filled with warmth. “I am here for you, angel, even though I’m not there.”

“I know.”

“Try and get some sleep. It’ll help you with the side effects of the transition.”

“Will do.” She passed Montevista, who held the door open for her, and entered the house. “Stay safe.”

“Back at ya.”

Gadara leaned elegantly against the old kitchen countertop, his appearance flawless despite the late hour. She held out the phone to him.

He traversed the distance between them in the blink of an eye. His fingers wrapped around hers, cooling her temperature with a single touch.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his dark eyes filled with an age’s worth of knowledge. “Your concern on my behalf pleases me greatly.”

Although it was contrary to her desire to get her old life back, Eve appreciated the archangel’s praise. “You’re welcome.”

They shared a brief smile. Gadara took the phone and resumed his conversation with Alec. Eve stepped into the kitchen for a bottle of water before she headed back to the girls’ side of the duplex.

“Stick close tomorrow,” Richens said, watching her from his position by the sink.

“Okay.” The whole covert association thing was weird to Eve, but she’d play along at least until she figured out what was going on.

Edwards grunted. “And try not to be all over the place.”

“I hope I’m not the only one of us who would have acted first and asked questions later,” she shot back. “With that backpack and shawl over his head, Molenaar didn’t look human. And he was heading toward Gadara.”

“I am touched,” Gadara called out.

“Stop eavesdropping.” She glared at him, peeved to find him grinning. It made him look boyish and almost . . . cute. And Gadara wasn’t cute. He was ambitious and blessed with celestial gifts she could only wonder at. He was also on a power trip where Alec was concerned, and she bore the brunt of his machinations. Eve didn’t want to like him. She certainly didn’t want to like his adorable grin.

“I think your superpowers are messed up,” Edwards muttered.

Eve grabbed a water bottle from the stash on the counter and headed out. “See you guys in a few hours.”

Leaving the house with Sydney in tow, Eve headed back to the girls’ side. They rounded the corner and found Izzie waiting in the driveway at the front of the duplex. Without her usual cosmetics, the blonde looked startlingly young and delicate. Her skin was as pale as cream, her features finely wrought. She was as short of stature as Eve, but much less curvy. It looked good on her, as did her rainbow-striped knee-highs and black baby-doll pajamas. Izzie had the appearance of a pixie with a Goth edge.

Eve eyed her warily. Her inner warning bells went off whenever Izzie was near.

“Hello.” Izzie straightened from her leaning position against the front of the Suburban.

“What are you doing out here, Seiler?” Sydney asked.

“Waiting for Hollis.”

Both of Eve’s brows rose. Two overtures in one day? After three weeks of cold shoulders? “Did you need something?”

“Can we talk?”

“I’m listening.”

They continued forward. Sydney deliberately fell behind.

“He asked me, too, you should know,” Izzie said.

“Who asked you what?”

“Richens.”

Eve’s steps faltered, then she realized she wasn’t all that surprised. “Really.”

“He did not tell you?” Izzie sighed dramatically. “He said I was the only female in our class worthy of asking.”

Ignoring the dig, Eve asked, “Do you know what he’s thinking?”

Izzie shook her head. “I do not care. There is something wrong with him.”

There was something wrong with all of them as far as Eve was concerned. And the fate of the world rested, in part, in their hands. How scary was that? “Why are you telling me this?”

“I thought you would wish to know.”

“You haven’t told me much of anything yet.”

The blonde sighed. “Also, I thought perhaps we should join forces, too.”

“We? As in you and me?”

“Yes.” The word was said with exasperation, as if Eve was slow to catch on. “Richens has a purpose for why he wants his own group. If we could understand, it would be of use to us.”

“ ‘We’ as in me, right,” Eve murmured wryly, “since you turned him down?”

Izzie smiled, but it didn’t reach her blue eyes. “Right.”

“If you want to know what he’s up to, why didn’t you play along and find out?”

“Patience is difficult for me.” Izzie glanced aside with a slight smile, her short pigtails swaying in the damp evening air.

Eve wished she’d been a fan of the reality show Survivor. She might have picked up some tips about how to backstab, a skill she suspected her classmates had long ago mastered. “How old are you, Izzie?”

“Thirty. Why does that matter?”

Eve would have guessed that she was younger. She shrugged. “Just curious.”

“You don’t wish to know why I was marked?”

“Sure. Are you going to tell me?”

“No.” Izzie climbed the short steps to the front door and opened it. Her loosely laced Dr. Martens thudded onto the hardwood of the living room. Sydney brought up the rear, locking them inside the house while another guard kept watch outside. Four guards, two for each duplex.

The moon had drifted farther along in the sky, shining less light into the space and creating more shadows. Eve was suddenly exhausted and a giant yawn escaped her.

“Tell me why you are here,” Izzie said, kicking off her boots.

Eve headed down the hall to her room. “Not tonight, I have a headache.”