A Terrible Fall of Angels (Zaniel Havelock #1)(92)
Emma said, “There’s a great coffee and tea shop just down the street from where I work. If you and Levi can meet me there, we’d have enough time to talk before my first client.”
“Client?” I made the word a question with the inflection at the end.
“Reiki,” she said, fully expecting that I’d know it was a type of healing energy work.
“If Levanael is okay with it, that sounds great.”
“He doesn’t like being called that name,” she said, her voice more serious.
“He’s okay with it since the . . . major channeling event.”
“Really, that’s fascinating. I can’t wait to meet you and find out all the details.”
“What’s the name of the coffee shop?” I asked.
“The Cozy Cauldron. Can you please put Levi back on the phone and then I’ll see you both soon.”
Again, I found myself smiling without meaning to, as if she exuded joy. Was it a spell? I got that psychic poke saying Stop being so damn cynical. I handed the phone to Jamie and tried to be less cynical, but after this many years of being a cop it wasn’t easy to switch gears from cynicism to whatever the opposite of that was, and then I realized that I honestly didn’t know the antonym for cynical. I watched Jamie’s face light up again as he spoke to Emma and fought not to think it was too good to be true. I realized that what I’d lost somewhere along the way was belief in the basic goodness of things, that somewhere in all the everyday mess God still had a plan. Combat had made me question it, being a police officer had made me question it more, but it was losing Reggie and Connery that had finally broken something in me. Something I needed to keep trusting that the loss of Jamie to his illness, the loss of the first person who made me fall in love with Her, the loss of Surrie when I left the College, through all of it I had still believed, still had hope. I stood there watching Jamie’s face, the happy lilt in his voice like a small song of praise to the possibility of love with Emma, and I didn’t believe it was possible. They could fall in love, but the love that is supposed to be the purest reflection of God’s love for us, the love of a man for his wife and children, that was what I’d lost faith in, because I’d believed with all my heart and soul that Reggie was the one, and when Connery came along the love had just expanded until I thought my heart would explode with it. Instead, I had a dinner date with Reggie, and I’d been hopeful until I saw Jamie talking on the phone to a woman he was falling for, and I suddenly didn’t believe that Reggie and I would ever get back to that. We might get back to something, but it wouldn’t be this pure, unstained, shining adoration, and for a second, I hated them both, and then I was afraid for Jamie. Afraid of how hurt he could be if he followed his heart and Emma decided one day that he wasn’t the man she thought she married, and the man he really was, the reality of him, wasn’t what she wanted. How in the name of Heaven did a man cope with that?
I stood there and prayed that I wouldn’t let my broken heart harm Jamie and whatever was happening with Emma. I prayed for the grace not to be jealous or angry about it, and not to share out loud or by psychic leaks how I really felt.
He got off the phone and smiled up at me. “Emma says she can’t wait to meet you.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice, and finally said, “Gotta get a fresh shirt, then we’ll go.”
“Why did you need to borrow a shirt from your boss?” he asked.
“Got messy at work, you know how it is,” I said, and kept heading for the far door and the bedroom and away from his questions.
“I hugged you that last time, my hands touched something.” He started walking after me, saying, “Z, are you hurt? Is that why you have the day off?”
“It’s not that bad and it means I get to spend more time with you.” I didn’t turn around or slow down. I didn’t want to answer questions about the injury, especially not to Jamie, because I still wasn’t sure how fragile he was, or wasn’t. Talk about demons being corporeal enough to claw a person up would spook anyone.
“Why don’t you want to tell me about it?” His voice sounded plaintive behind me.
I stopped with the door to the bedroom partially open. “Because bad things happened today, and people got hurt a lot worse than me. People that I was supposed to protect.”
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, Z, but just promise me you really aren’t hurt that badly. If you need to rest, then we can do this another day.”
I was suddenly tired, as if it had all caught up with me at once, but I shook my head. Jamie was here; he was Levanael again, or sounded like him. I didn’t want to lose a minute of the miracle of it. I’d stay with him as long as I could, or until the miracle started to unravel. In my head, not a voice exactly, but maybe my own self was talking back to me, chiding me, because miracles don’t unravel.
“I wouldn’t miss the chance of spending time with you, Levanael, and I meant what I said about asking Emma if what she did for you might help others.” I started to put on a plain dark blue polo shirt that Reggie had grown to hate, she said it was my I’m-not-a-cop cop shirt but it was loose on me now that I’d leaned down so the bandages wouldn’t show. I looked down at myself and realized the polo shirt looked like it was going to a casual Friday office and the bottom half screamed gym. If I just changed shirts then I’d be done, so I settled for another oversized tank top that was cut around the shoulders and neck but left enough material to hide both the bandages on my stomach, my badge, and my gun. I almost changed so I could have my full-sized duty weapon, but I didn’t want to keep Jamie waiting longer than necessary. When you’ve got a miracle sitting in your living room you don’t leave it waiting so you can pack more firepower, or that’s what I told myself as I opened the bedroom door to step out. Reggie told me I didn’t know how to stop being a cop. Was the thought that she’d be pleased that I hadn’t changed everything to carry a bigger gun influencing my choice? I’d have liked to say no, but I try not to lie to myself. Lunch with her wasn’t until tomorrow, but I made the choice as if she was the one waiting in the living room and not Jamie.