Covet - A Novel of Fallen Angel Part 4

Jim sat up. aWhere the h.e.l.l am I?a The blond who was lining up his shot glared over and talked around his pipe. Which made his accent even more high brow. aOne moment, if you please.a aI say you keep talking,a his cross-armed, dark-haired buddy muttereda"in the same dry voice that had woken Jim up. aHeas cheating anyway.a aI knew you would come around,a Round Gla.s.ses chirped in Jimas direction. aI knew it! Welcome!a aAh, youare awake,a the one next to the wolfhound chimed in. aHow lovely to meet you.a G.o.dd.a.m.n, they were all good-looking, with the no-care-in-the-world vibe that resulted from not just being rich, but coming from generations of wealth.

aAre we done with the chatter, lads?a Pipe Guy, who was evidently named Nigel, looked around. aI should like some silence.a aThen why donat you stop telling us what to do?a the dark-haired one said.

aPop off, Colin.a With that, the pipe was s.h.i.+fted around to the other side of the mouth, the shot was taken with a crack, and a red-striped ball rolled through a pair of wickets and struck a blue one.

The blond smiled like the prince he no doubt was. aNow itas time for tea.a He glanced over and met Jimas eyes. aWell, come on, then.a Dead. He was definitely dead and in h.e.l.l. Had to be it. Either that or this was some weird-a.s.s dream because head pa.s.sed out in front of the TV and theread been a Four Weddings and a Funeral marathon on.

Jim got to his feet as the lads and the wolfhound headed for a table set with silver and china, and without a lot of options, he followed them over to atea.a aWonat you have a seat?a Nigel said, indicating the vacant chair.

aIall stand, thanks. What am I doing here?a aTea?a aNo. Who area"a aI am Nigel. This rather acerbic foolaa"the blond nodded at the dark-haired guya"ais Colin. Byron is our resident optimist and Albert is the dog lover.a aI go by Bertie to friends,a Mr. Canine said as he stroked the wolfhoundas ruff. aSo, please, by all means. And this is the darling Tarquin.a Byron pushed his rose-colored roundies higher on his straight nose and clapped. aI just know this tea is going to be fabulous.a Sure it was. Absolutely.

Itas finally happened, Jim thought. Iave finally lost my d.a.m.n mind.

Nigel picked up a silver pot and started pouring into porcelain cups. aI can imagine you are a bit surprised to be here, Jim.a Ya think? aHow do you know my name, and what is this place?a aYouave been chosen for an important mission.a Nigel put down the pot and hit the sugar cubes.

aA mission?a aYes.a Nigel lifted his tea with his pinkie extended, and as he looked over the rim, it was hard to pin down his eye color. It was neither blue nor gray nor greenabut it wasnat brown or hazel either.

Good G.o.d, it was a color Jim had never seen before. And all of them had it.

aJim Heron, you are going to save the world.a There was a long pause. During which the four lads looked at him with straight faces.

When no one else started laughing, Jim picked up the slack, throwing back his head and belly-rolling it so hard, tears spiked into his eyes.

aThis is not a joke,a Nigel snapped.

When Jim caught his breath, he said, aIt sure the h.e.l.l is. Man, what a f.u.c.ked-up dream this is.a Nigel put his cup down, got to his feet, and walked over the bright green gra.s.s. Up close, he smelled like fresh air, and those weird eyes of his were positively hypnotic.

aThis. Is. Not. A. Dream.a The b.a.s.t.a.r.d punched Jim in the arm. Just balled up his smooth hand into a fist and fired the thing hard.

af.u.c.k!a Jim rubbed the stinga"which was considerable. Pipe Guy might have been built lean and long, but he packed a punch all right.

aPermit me to repeat myself. You are not dreaming and this is not a joke.a aCan I hit him next?a Colin said with a lazy grin.

aNo, you have horrid aim and you might strike him somewhere delicate.a Nigel returned to his seat and took a small sandwich off a wheel of perfect little snackie-poos. aJim Heron, you are the tiebreaker in the game, a man agreed upon by both sides to be on the field and settle the score.a aBoth sides? Tiebreaker? What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?a aYou are going to have seven chances. Seven opportunities to influence your fellow man. If you perform as we believe you will, the outcomes shall save the souls in question and we shall prevail over the other side. As long as that win occurs, humanity will continue to thrive and all shall be well.a Jim opened his mouth to shoot off some s.h.i.+t, but the expressions of the lads stopped him. Even the smart-a.s.s in the group was looking serious.

aThis has to be a dream.a No one got up to punch him again, but as they stared at him with such gravity, he began to get the creeping suspicion this might be something other than his subconscious talking while he was out cold.

aThis is very real,a Nigel said. aI realize it is not where you saw yourself going, but you have been chosen and that is the way of it.a aa.s.suming youare not full of s.h.i.+t, what if I say no?a aYou wonat.a aBut what if I do.a Nigel looked out over the distance. aThen everything ends as it stands now. Neither good nor bad wins and we are all, including yourself, over. No Heaven, no h.e.l.l, all that has gone before wiped clean. The mystery and the miracle of creation over and done and dusted.a Jim thought back on his lifeathe choices head made, the things head done. aSounds like a good plan to me.a aIt isnat.a Colin drummed his fingers on the tablecloth. aThink about it, Jim. If nothing exists anymore, than all that went before was meaningless. So therefore your mother doesnat matter. Are you prepared to say that she is nothing? That her love for you, her darling son, is not valuable?a Jim exhaled as if head been hit again, the pain of his past ricocheting through his chest. He hadnat thought of his mother for years. Maybe decades. She was always with him, of course, the only warm spot in his cold heart, but he did not allow himself to think of her. Ever.

And yet suddenly, and from out of nowhere, he had an image of heraone so familiar, so vivid, so achingly real, it was as if a piece of the past had been implanted into his brain: She was cooking him eggs over the old stove in their ancient kitchen. Her grip on the iron pan handle was strong, her back straight, her dark hair cut short. Shead started out as the wife of a farmer and ended up as the farmer herself, her body as wiry and tough as her smile had been soft and kind.

Head loved his mother. And although she had given him eggs every morning, he remembered that particular breakfast. It was the last shead ever madea"not just for him, but for anybody.

Shead been murdered come nightfall.

aHow do you knowaabout her,a Jim asked with a voice that cracked.

aWe have a vast knowledge of your life.a Colin c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. aBut that begs the question. What say you, Jim? Are you prepared to relegate everything she did and everything she was toa"as you would put it so bluntlya"s.h.i.+t?a Jim didnat like Colin very much.

aThatas all right,a Nigel murmured. aWe donat care for him ourselves.a aUntrue,a Bertie piped up. aI adore Colin. He hides behind his gruffness, but he is a wonderfula"a Colinas voice sliced through the compliment. aYou are such a fairy.a aIam an angel, not a fairy, and so are you.a Bertie glanced over at Jim and resumed playing with Tarquinas ear. aI know youare going to do the right thing, because you loved your mother too much not to. Do you recall how she used to wake you up when you were small?a Jim closed his eyes hard. aYeah.a His bed growing up had been a small twin in one of the farmhouseas drafty upstairs rooms. Head slept in his clothes most nights, either because he was too exhausted from working out in the cornfields to change or because it was too cold to lie down without multiple layers.

On school days, his mother had come in singing to hima.

aYou are my suns.h.i.+ne, my only suns.h.i.+nea. You make me happy when skies are graya. Youall never know, dear, how much I love youa. Please donat take my suns.h.i.+ne away.a Except he wasnat the one who had left her, and when she had gone away, it hadnat been voluntarily. She had fought like a wildcat to stay with him, and head never forget the look in her eyes right before shead pa.s.sed. Shead stared out of her beaten face and spoken to him with her blue eyes and her b.l.o.o.d.y lips, because shead had no more air left in her lungs to carry her voice.

I love you forever, she had mouthed. But run. Get out of the house. Run. Theyare upstairs.

He had left her where she lay, half-naked, b.l.o.o.d.y, and violated. Ducking out the back door, head raced to the truck he wasnat old enough to drive, and his feet had barely touched the pedals as head started the thing.

They had come after him, and to this day, he had no idea how head managed to get that old truck to go that fast down that dusty dirt road.

Bertie spoke up quietly. aYou must accept this as both reality and your destiny. For her sake if for no one elseas.a Jim opened his eyes and looked at Nigel. aIs there a Heaven?a aWe are on the edge of it right now.a Nigel nodded over his shoulder at the castle wall, which ran off into the distance. aOn the far side of our gracious manse, the souls of the good tally in fields of flowers and trees, their hours spent in suns.h.i.+ne and warmth, their cares and worries no more, their pain forgotten.a Jim stared at the footbridge over the moat and the double doors that were each the size of an RV. aIs she there?a aYes. And if you do not prevail, she will be ever gone as if she never was.a aI want to see her.a He took a step forward. aI have to see her first.a aYou may not enter. The quick are not welcome therein, only the dead.a af.u.c.k that and f.u.c.k you.a Jim walked and then ran for the bridge, his boots thundering across the gra.s.s, then echoing on the wooden planks over the quicksilver river. When he got to the doors, he grabbed onto the great iron pulls, yanking so hard his back muscles screamed.

Fisting up one of his hands, he pounded at the oak, then pulled again. aLet me through! Let me through, you son of a b.i.t.c.h!a He needed to know for himself that she wasnat hurt anymore and that she didnat suffer and that she was okay. Needed that rea.s.surance so badly, he felt like he was shattering as he fought to get past the barrier, his battering fists driven by the memory of his beloved mother on the linoleum in the kitchen, the stab wounds in her chest and her neck bleeding out onto the floor, her legs spread, her mouth gaping open, her eyes terrified and imploring him to save himself, save himself, save himselfa.

The demon in him came out.

Everything went white as rage took over. He knew he was. .h.i.tting something hard, that his body was going wild, that when someone put a hand on his shoulder he took them down to the ground and pummeled them.

But he heard nothing and saw nothing.

The past always unwrapped him, which was why he made a point of never, ever thinking about it.

When Jim regained consciousness for the second time, he was in the same position head been in for the first coming-around: flat on his back, gra.s.s beneath his palms, eyes closed.

Except this time there was something wet on his face.

Popping his lids, he found Colinas face right above his own, and as the guyas blood dripped onto Jimas cheeks, the araina was explained.

aAh, youare awake, well-done.a Colin pulled back a fist and cracked Jim right in the puss.

As pain exploded, Bertie let out a cry, Tarquin whimpered, and Byron rushed over.

aRight, now weare even.a Colin hopped off and shook out his hand. aYou know, taking human form has its benefits, indeed. That felt rather nice.a Nigel shook his head. aThis is not going well.a Jim had to agree as he sat up and accepted the handkerchief Byron held out. While he stemmed the bleeding from his nose, he couldnat believe head exploded like that at those castle doors, but then he was always shocked afterward.

Nigel eased down on his haunches. aYou want to know why you were chosen, and I believe you have a right to know.a Jim spat out the blood in his mouth. aNow thereas an idea.a Nigel reached over and took the b.l.o.o.d.y handkerchief. The instant the cloth made contact with his hands, the stain disappeared, the white fibers as pristine as they had been before theyad been used to stop a red geyser.

He gave it back for further use. aYou are the two halves together, Jim. The good and the bad in equal measure, capable of great reserves of kindness and profound depths of depravity. Thusly, both sides found you acceptable. We andathe otheraboth believe that when you are presented with the seven opportunities, you will influence the course of events according to our values. We for the good, they for the evila"with the outcome determining the fate of humanity.a Jim stopped mopping up his face and focused on the Englishman. He could dispute nothing of what had been said about his character, and yet his brain remained scrambled. Or maybe he had a concussion, thanks to Colin, the knuckle-cracking motherf.u.c.ker.

aSo do you accept your destiny?a Nigel said. aOr does all end here?a Jim cleared his throat. Begging wasnat something he was used to. aPleaseajust let me see my mother. IaI need to know sheas okay.a aIam so sorry, but as I said, only the dead may pa.s.s to the other side.a Nigelas hand came to rest on Jimas shoulder. aWhat say you, man?a Byron came in close. aYou can do it. Youare a carpenter. You build things and you rebuild things. Lives are constructions just the same.a Jim looked at the castle and felt his heartbeat in his busted nose.

If he took everything at face value, if everything were true, if he were some kind of savior, thenaif he walked away, the only peace his mother knew was gone. And as attractive as he might find the emptiness and timelessness of nonexistence, that was a cold exchange for where she was now.

aHow does it work?a he asked. aWhat do I do?a Nigel smiled. aSeven deadly sins. Seven souls swayed by these sins. Seven people at a crossroads with a choice that must be made. You enter their lives and affect their path. If they choose righteousness over sin, we prevail.a aAnd if they donataa aThe other side wins.a aWhat is the other side?a aThe opposite of what we are.a Jim glanced over at the table with its white linens and sparkling silver. aSoaweare talking about a bunch of a.s.s-scratchers sitting on Barcaloungers watching Girls Gone Wild and drinking beer.a Colin laughed. aNot hardly, mate. Although that is an image, indeed.a Nigel glared at his buddy and then looked back at Jim. aThe other side is evil. I shall let your mind summon the appropriate reference, but if you should want a place to start, you have but to think of what was done to your mother and know that those who hurt her enjoyed it.a Jimas gut clenched so hard, he leaned to the side and dry-heaved. When a hand smoothed over his back, he had a feeling it was Bertie. And he was right.

Eventually, Jimas gag reflex cut the c.r.a.p and he got his breath back. aWhat if I canat do this?a Colin spoke up. aI shall not liea"it is not going to be easy. The other side is capable of everything. But you shall not be without resources.a Jim frowned. aWait, the other side thinks Iam going to be a bad influence? During the crossroads of these people?a Nigel nodded. aThey have the same faith in you that we have. But we had the advantage of reaching out to you.a aHowad you manage that?a aCoin toss.a Jim blinked. Right, becauseathatas how they did it at the Super Bowl.

Focusing on the gates, he tried to see his mom not as how head left her on that kitchen floor, but as these princes said she was. Happy. Relieved of burden. Whole.

aWho are the seven people?a aFor the identification of this first one, we shall give you a bit of help and make it obvious,a Nigel said, getting to his feet. aGood luck.a aHold on a minutea"how will I know what to do?a aUse your head,a Colin cut in.

aNo,a Bertie said, cradling his wolfhoundas face, ayour heart.a aJust believe in the future.a Byron pushed his tinted gla.s.ses up on his nose. aHope is the besta"a Nigel rolled his eyes. aJust tell people what to do. It cuts down on the conversation, freeing up time for more worthwhile pursuits.a aSuch as cheating at croquet?a Colin muttered.

aWill I see you again?a Jim asked. aCan I come to you for help?a He didnat get an answer. Instead, he got another jolt that sure as s.h.i.+t felt like two-fortyaand abruptly found himself shooting through a long, white hallway, the light blinding him, the wind blasting him in the face.

He had no idea where he was going to end up this time. Maybe it was back in Caldwell. Maybe it was Disneyland.

With the way things appeared to be going, who the f.u.c.k knew.

CHAPTER 6.

As night fell, Marie-Terese gripped the handle of the nonstick pan and slid a spatula around the edges of a perfectly round pancake. The thing was just ripe for the flipping, a pattern of little bubbles forming on its creamy surface.

aYou ready?a she said.

Her son smiled from his supervisory stool on the other side of the countertop. aWeare going to count, right?a aYup.a Their voices joined together in the three, twoaone. Then with a flick of the wrist, she sent the pancake flying and caught it dead in the center.

aYou did it!a Robbie said as the sizzle rose up.

Marie-Terese smiled through a stinging sadness. Seven-year-olds were spectacular with approval, capable of making you feel like you were a miracle worker over the simplest of victories.

If only she deserved the praise on the big stuff.

aWould you get the syrup, please,a she said.

Robbie slid off the stool and padded over to the fridge in his slippers. He was wearing a Spider-Man T-s.h.i.+rt, a pair of jeans, and a Spider-Man hoodie. His bed had Spider-Man sheets and a Spider-Man duvet, and the lamp he read his Spider-Man comics by had a Spider-Man shade on it. His previous obsession had been SpongeBob, but back in October, as head prepared to leave six years old in the dust, head declared that he was a grown-up and that henceforth gifts should be of the webbed-crusader variety.

Right. Got it.

Robbie pulled open the fridge door and grabbed the squeeze bottle. aDo we always gots to do as much grammar as we did today?a aThat would be ahave toa and yes, clearly itas needed.a aCanat we do more math?a aNope.a aAt least I gots pancakes for dinner.a As Marie-Terese glanced over at him, he smiled. aHave pancakes.a aThank you.a Robbie hopped back on the stool and changed the channel on the little TV next to the toaster. The mini-Sony was allowed to be on during breaks from schooling, and the biggie Sony, which was in the living room, could be on Sat.u.r.day and Sunday afternoons and nights after dinner until bedtime.

Sliding the pancake onto a plate, she fired up another one, pouring the Bisquick in with a ladle. The kitchen was too small for a table, so they used the overhang off the counter as one, tucking stools beneath it and sitting at the stretch of Formica for every meal.

aReady to flip number two?a aYup!a She and Robbie counted it down together, and she executed another Flying Wallenda with the pancakeaand her beautiful angel of a son smiled up at her like she was the sun in his world again.

Marie-Terese delivered his plate to him and then took a seat in front of the salad shead made herself earlier. As they ate, she glanced over at the stack of mail on the counter and knew without opening it what the bills would add up to. Two of them were big boys: Shead had to put both the private investigator shead used to find Robbie and the law firm shead hired to get a divorce on a payment plan, because $127,000 wasnat the kind of thing she could write a check for. Naturally, payment plans involved interest, and unlike credit cards, default wasnat an option: She was taking no chances that P.I. or those lawyers would try to find her. As long as she paid on time, there was no reason for her current location to come to light.

And she always sent money orders that were mailed from Manhattan.

After eighteen months, she was about three-quarters through what she owed, but at least Robbie was safe and with her, and that was all that mattered.

aYou are better than her.a Marie-Terese refocused. aExcuse me?a aThat waitress just dropped all the food on her tray.a Robbie pointed to the little TV screen. aYou would never do that.a Marie-Terese looked over at an ad featuring a harried woman having a bad day working at a diner. Her hair was a frizz bomb, her uniform s.p.a.ckled with ketchup, her name tag off-kilter.

aYouare a better waitress, Mom. And cook.a Abruptly, the scene changed so that Harried Waitress was now in a pink bathrobe on a white sofa, submerging her aching feet in a vibrating pool. The expression on her face was pure bliss, the product obviously relieving her aching soles.

aThanks, baby,a Marie-Terese said roughly.

The commercial flipped into order-now mode, an eight-hundred number appearing under the price of $49.99 as an announcer said, aBut wait! If you call now, it will cost you only $29.99!a While a red arrow started to flash next to the price, he demanded, aIsnat this a steal?a and the happy, relaxed waitress came back on and said, aYes, it is!a aCome on,a Marie-Terese cut in. aTime for a bath.a Robbie slid off the stool and took his plate to the dishwasher. aI donat need help anymore, you know. I can take my own bath.a aI know.a G.o.d, he was growing up fast. aJust make sure youa"a aa"do behind the ears. You tell me alla time.a As Robbie hit the stairs, Marie-Terese turned the TV off and went to clean the pan and bowl. Thinking back on that ad, she wished like h.e.l.l she were just a waitressaand that all it would take to make her stress go away was a tub you plugged into the wall.

That would be absolute heaven.

Three tries were a charm.

Finally, Jim woke up in a hospital bed: He was stretched out on white sheets, with a thin white blanket pulled up to his chest and little handrails jacked up on either side of him. And the room fit the bill, too, with bland walls, a bathroom in the corner and a TV mounted on the ceiling that was on, but muted.

Of course, the IV in his arm was the real giveaway.

Head only been dreaming. That s.h.i.+t about those four dainty wing nuts and the castle and everything had just been a weird dream. Thank. G.o.d.

Jim lifted his hand to rub his eyesa"and froze. There was a gra.s.s stain on his palm. And his face hurt like head been punched.

Abruptly, Nigelas aristocratic voice sounded in his head so clearly, it was more than a memory: Seven deadly sins. Seven souls swayed by these sins. Seven people at a crossroads with a choice that must be made. You enter their lives and affect their path. If they choose righteousness over sin, we prevail.

Jim took a deep breath and looked toward the window that had a gauze curtain pulled across it. Dark out. Perfect for nightmares. But as much as he wanted to go with the whole itas-only-a-dream thing, the s.h.i.+t was so vivid, so freshaand men might get hairy palms if they were pumping themselves off, but gra.s.sy?

Besides it wasnat like head been master of his domain with any great frequency.

Especially not the night before, thanks to that brunette. h.e.l.lo.

Trouble was, if this was the new reality, if head been to a parallel universe where everyone was a cross between Simon Cowell and Tim Gunn, if head accepted some kind of missionahow the h.e.l.l did he proceeda"

aYouare awake.a Jim glanced over. Stepping up to the foot of the bed was none other than Vin diPietro, the general contractor from h.e.l.lawho was evidently the boyfriend of the woman Jim hadayeah.

aHow you feeling?a The guy was still wearing the black suit that head had on when he and the woman had shown up, and also the same bloodred tie. With his dark hair combed back and just a dusting of beard across his hard face, he presented himself to be exactly who he was: rich and in charge.

Surely it wasnat possible that Vin diPietro was the first a.s.signment.

ah.e.l.lo?a DiPietro waved. aYou in there?a Nah, Jim thought. Canat be. That would be above and beyond any call of duty.

Over the guyas shoulder, the commercial that was on the TV suddenly showed a price of $49.99a"no, $29.99, with a little red arrow thataconsidering where Vin was standing, pointed right at his head.

as.h.i.+t, no,a Jim muttered. This was the guy?

On the TV screen, some woman in a pink bathrobe smiled up at the camera and mouthed, Yes, it is!

DiPietro frowned and leaned over the bed. aYou need a nurse?a No, he needed a beer. Or six. aIam cool.a Jim rubbed his eyes again, smelled fresh gra.s.s, and wanted to curse until he ran out of breath.

aListen,a diPietro said, aIam a.s.suming you donat have health insurance, so Iall cover all your bills. And if you need to take a couple of days off, I wonat dock your wages. Sound good?a Jim let his hands flop down on the bed and was grateful to see that the gra.s.s stains had magically disappeared. DiPietro, on the other hand, was evidently going nowhere. At least not until he had a sense of what Jim might sue him for. It was so frickina obvious that the guy was not bedside offering up his no doubt limitless credit card because he gave two s.h.i.+ts about how Jim was feeling. He didnat want a workersa-comp action against his corporation.

Whatever. The accident was not even on Jimas radar; all he could think of was what had happened the night before in his truck. DiPietro was exactly the kind of man whoad have a Blue Dress on his arm, but the coldness in that stare meant he was also the type who could find imperfection in a perfectly beautiful woman. G.o.d knew the SOB saw faults in everything that happened at the site, from the way the cement settled in the bas.e.m.e.nt foundation to the tree clearing to the grading of the acres to the position of the nail heads on the framing boards.