A Terrible Fall of Angels (Zaniel Havelock #1)(77)
“I will return to my home,” Harshiel said.
“Fine, if you start peeing blood then your kidneys are ruptured. If the pain gets really severe, maybe same thing.”
“Are you trying to frighten me into going to your doctor?”
“Wouldn’t dream of ruining your chance to martyr yourself on some kind of macho power kick,” Roger said.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Paramedic Sam said, “Maybe you don’t, but I hope your healers at this College of yours are better than our hospitals.”
“They are far superior,” Harshiel said. He took in a deep breath and stood a little straighter. His grip on Turmiel loosened, but he leaned against the desk almost like he’d sit on the edge of it.
“I’ll help escort them,” Lila said, as she came to stand beside Harshiel, as if ready to catch him if he fell again. She was looking somewhere around his abs, which were a little compressed as he sat. I suddenly saw him from Lila’s perspective as a very in-shape, athletic man and she was single. I tried to remember if I’d ever mentioned that Angel Speakers were celibate. It probably hadn’t come up in conversation.
I had a moment of debating on letting her pursue him, or saving them both the trouble. If he hadn’t been hurt I’d have been tempted to let Lila try, but he was hurt and . . . I moved toward her, planning to say something, but the paramedics moved in again with more warnings and notes for the healers, and Turmiel caught my attention.
I let him lead me to the side of everything. “Master Donel requests a favor if you are willing.”
“For Master Donel, anything.”
“His sister is alone in the city now; everyone has moved away, or passed away. He would like someone to check on her. If she is in need, could you leave a message at the College?”
I was startled because we gave up all birth family when we became an Angel Speaker, but Turmiel was part of Donel’s family of birth so maybe that changed things, but in the end it didn’t matter. I said the only thing I could say. “Of course, what is her name, and do you have an address?”
“Only her name,” he said.
I wrote down the name, both the Americanized version she’d been using when Turmiel had come to the College of Angels at age seven and her original first name when she and Donel arrived from the Philippines as children. Turmiel only knew the last address of his own mother and siblings, not his aunt, but he’d been seven; you memorize your home address, not everyone else’s. I put the information in my phone and had barely gotten it when Harshiel almost yelled, “Turmiel, we are leaving.”
I reached out and clasped Turmiel’s arm above the leather bracers on his wrists, so that we gave the greeting of Sentinel brothers-in-arms. It was strange how quickly I was falling back into old habits. “Give my best to Master Donel.”
He clasped my arm and said, “I will.”
“And please tell me how Harshiel is. If I’ve truly injured him I’ll never forgive myself. It was careless.”
“I will find a way to let you know, I promise.
I wanted to hug Suriel goodbye, but there was no chance to say any other goodbyes; they were ready to go and that was that. Harshiel was determined to be gone and Suriel couldn’t seem to find an excuse to delay. Lila and Old MacGregor drove them back to the College. I realized after they left that I hadn’t warned Lila that Harshiel was celibate. I hoped she didn’t flirt too hard with him on the drive.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
I went home, glad about it for once. Whatever they’d given me at the hospital when they bandaged my arm and stomach was wearing off, or maybe my body was finally letting me feel it. The nail marks in my arm hurt the worst, as if every scratch suddenly decided to be a sharp pain every time I used it, and since I’m right-handed, I used it a lot. The stomach was a little tender, I mean I wouldn’t want to do sit-ups, but it didn’t hurt like I’d been stabbed by a demon, though it did hurt like I’d taken a good shot to the gut. I was grateful that it didn’t hurt worse and said a little prayer of gratitude, but it was still unsettling that the wounds kept bleeding when a doctor, a nurse, and four paramedics had all assured me it was impossible for wounds this closed to bleed, at all.
My apartment building was in El Segundo, close to the airport, not too close to the runways, but sometimes, depending on the wind or other air traffic, the main flight path shifted and the planes went directly overhead. Those nights the sounds of planes turned into the sound of bombs and mortars and I really regretted signing a yearlong lease instead of renting month to month, but the places that would let me rent by the month weren’t good enough to bring Connery or Reggie to. The idea was that she would come over to the apartment and visit in a more neutral place than the house we’d made together. It hadn’t worked out that way; she’d been in the apartment just once to make sure she was comfortable with Connery staying overnight.
I pulled into the street in front of the building. I had to go around to get into the covered parking area. A parking area that was covered and not visible from the street was one of the reasons I’d taken the apartment. There was a man sitting on the steps in front of the gated front entrance as I drove around for parking. He was clean-cut, shortish brown hair, Caucasian or pale Hispanic, checked flannel shirt, jeans, running shoes that had seen better days. It was too hot for the flannel and the clothes didn’t fit right; if he hadn’t been clean, I’d have thought maybe homeless. I pulled into the parking area and was starting to park the car when I slammed on the brakes because my head finally realized I knew the face. I hadn’t seen it without a beard and long hair in ten years, but it was Jamie.