Free Airs & Graces by Jeffrey Cook, A.J. Downey Page B

I knew I couldn’t do it without Tab, but at the same time I couldn’t trust him. I mean, sure he’d kept my ass out of the fire, even gotten injured for me, but he also planned on killing me. Hadn’t he? He didn’t deny it. He didn’t say “I did nothing of the sort, Adelaide,” just “Don’t listen to him, Adelaide. Drive.” Telling me not to listen to Michael wasn’t the same as a denial, was it?
    I tried to force the image of him out of my mind, but all I could see was his nose inches from my own, and the angry set of his eyes behind it. Their depths sliding from cool liquid gray to icy blue as he scolded me “I did not come here to date you, or fall in love with you, or have any part in your life… I came here to stop Heaven or Hell from spilling out on your world… That is why I’m here, and for no other reason.”
    He had a high opinion of himself that was for damn sure. I couldn’t help that I found him attractive, I mean for fuck’s sake, he was an Angel and probably one of the most heart-stoppingly beautiful things I’d ever seen. Plus he didn’t bother correcting the waitress at the diner when she inferred we were going out. Then the way he kept staring, I was beginning to think he was interested in me. Okay, that was laughable; I was just human, after all. I mean, right?
    I made a disgusted noise, so much for not thinking. I gripped the steering wheel tightly and sighed, forcing myself to relax inch by inch. I needed to be calm in order for the Grace to do its magic so I could see what needed to be seen. Right? In any case, this was probably not helping. Tab and thinking about him was definitely not helping. The fact that I was having these thoughts and felt so damn sure about what I needed to do to get this Grace shit to work, was so not helping.
    Sure Tab was keeping my body in one piece, maybe prolonged my life for a few extra days than I otherwise would have had, but still… none of this was helping with this particular task. I had some serious questions for him now, and God willing I would live to see him again and ask him, but somehow I didn’t think it was going to be likely. I just needed to think, read the journal … what I needed was time, time that no one wanted to give me. So here I was, taking what I could along the Oregon coast.
    The sand was soft under the tires of my car, but I had all-wheel drive, so it wasn’t bad. I pulled down the beach and parked, pointing the car toward the water and at an angle that would allow me to just jump in and take off for the exit should the need arise. I got out and was greeted with semi-warm air, the smell of salt, and a light breeze, which was nice. I think it was getting on towards the weekend, and was a little sad I didn’t even know what day of the week it was. We’d been gone for hours, but it felt like days, and I couldn’t remember anymore what day it’d been yesterday when I’d gone into work and…
    I closed my car door on the thought – and the sight of my boss and friend lying there – and palmed the remote that would lock the doors. I had left the key in the ignition to make for a faster getaway. I closed my eyes and listened to the gulls and the surf on the shore and relished the soothing silence it brought to my mind. My troubles dimmed under the warmth of the sun on my face, the hurt washing out with the tide. Novocain for the soul. I knew it was only a temporary relief. I dropped onto my ass in the sand and used my car as a wind break, withdrawing Piorre’s journal from my bag.
    I felt odd reading his innermost thoughts, but at the same time I didn’t think he would care. I’d like to think he would want me to survive, and if that meant reading his book, then it was okay. Truth be told, I didn’t know anything about anyone anymore. I opened the simple leather-bound journal to about its last third. I was on borrowed time and just couldn’t start from the beginning. I was taking the crash course, and so I needed the