Devil's Paw (Imp Book 4) Page 12

  “What would I put in this luggage?” he asked, perplexed.

  “Well, a change of clothes for one thing. Do you plan on sleeping in jeans and a polo shirt, or naked? Are you going to wear the same damned thing for two days? How about a comb? Toothbrush?”

  He looked blankly at me. Cursing him, I went back upstairs and grabbed another roll–on bag, throwing in some spare toiletries and random t–shirts and jeans. None of them would fit him, but at least he’d look like he’d actually packed for a trip.

  I was cramming the bags in the car when I saw Wyatt jogging up my driveway. He was bare–chested with a pair of pajama bottoms on. My heart gave a lurch to see him sleep tousled in the morning — one of my favorite things in the world was waking up next to him.

  “You’re heading out now? Will you be back late tonight, or are you staying over?”

  He rubbed his face, his voice groggy with sleep. I wanted to wrap myself around him, rub along his warm skin, feel his breath in my hair. I turned toward him, a pang of longing in my chest. I didn’t want to go, didn’t want to leave him here. I hadn’t had much time alone with him lately. We never had time anymore, and it was killing me.

  “Yeah. Gregory only got a one–way ticket. I can’t see this taking too long, so we might be able to get a red eye back and get in early tomorrow. If not, we’ll catch something the next day. I’ll text you and let you know.”

  Wyatt frowned and reached out a hand to brush my arm. “I wish I was going with you. I’ll miss you.”

  I turned away from him and busied myself adjusting the suitcases in the trunk. That pang in my chest was rapidly becoming a heavy lump.

  “You’ll probably miss me even more when I get back; the Ruling Council meeting didn’t go too well and I may wind up back in ‘punishment’.”

  “Sam! I forgot. What happened?”

  Yes, definitely a big, heavy lump in my chest. I turned one of the suitcases over and pushed it to the other side. There was a saddle still in my trunk from months ago. Had it been that long? When was the last time Wyatt and I rode together? I shook my head, unable to reply as that lump moved up to my throat.

  “Sam?”

  I felt his arms around me, his face in my hair, and I struggled to regain composure. I was leaving in ten minutes. No way I was going to bawl my eyes out right before heading to the airport.

  “Was it that bad? What are they going to do to you?”

  I took a deep breath. “Two went in my favor. I have to do a report for the guy in Virginia, and re–do the one for the drug dealer that attacked me rent day.”

  Wyatt spun me around to face him. “Wait, do you mean the incident with the mage and the angel? You didn’t tell me you killed someone. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because you’d get that look on your face. The one where I think you’re just going to walk away and never see me again. I feel like I can’t tell you things anymore. I’m always worried you’ll think bad of me, blame me, accuse me of being a horrible person. I hardly see you alone anymore as it is. If I tell you I had to kill a human in self–defense, you’ll pull away even more.” That came out angrier than I had intended. I was so hurt. And lonely.

  Wyatt crushed me against him, pressing his lips against my ear. “I’m so sorry. I’m still trying to get my head around the fact that you’re a demon. I don’t always like everything you do, but I don’t want you to hide things from me. I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me this. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

  I hugged him back, loving the feel of his muscular back under my hands. If only I weren’t leaving. If only I had twenty quick minutes. Full of regret, I pulled away, running my hands down his arms to where he held my waist.

  “I’ll only be gone a day or two. Clear some time in your schedule and we’ll go for a ride. Maybe have a picnic. We can send the girls to the mall or something for the day.” Not Columbia Mall though. Amber was not going anywhere near that place.

  “It’s a date.”

  Wyatt bent his head to kiss me. I dug my hands through his hair and held on tight, loving the feel of his lips and tongue against mine. I’d missed him. I’d seen him every day, but I’d missed him.

  “Play with your toy later. You insisted we had to leave right now. Let’s go.”

  I pulled away from Wyatt and shot an irritated glance at the angel before turning back to my favorite human.

  “I’ll see you in a few days,” I murmured.

  “Call me. I love you.”

  I nodded. “Love you too.”

  I watched him in the rear view mirror as we drove away. We needed a date, desperately needed some alone time together, but here I was, crammed into an SUV with an angel, heading to the airport. This was absurd. Why couldn’t he just gate me there in our usual fashion? It was clear he was just as unhappy about this method of transportation as I was.

  ~11~

  It was obvious to the airport staff that Gregory had never gone through the commercial airline song and dance before. I confiscated the itinerary and rifled through it to see what airline we were on. United. First class, way cool. Two tickets for Samantha Martin, and …blank. What the fuck? How had that gate guardian managed to buy a ticket for someone with no name? Was his identification blank too? I thought of how confused the humans would be, how they’d react at security. I started laughing and actually had to sit down on the curb before I fell over.

  “What?” the angel asked, trying to grab the paper out of my hand. “Is there something wrong? Did the gate guardian get them wrong?”

  I wiped my eyes. “The gate guardian has great skill in making airline reservations. Evidently you have no name. I just hope your passport is blank too.”

  Gregory snatched the itinerary and looked at it, frowning. “She understands human travel customs.” He handed the papers back to me. “I don’t need a name to travel.”

  “Please tell me she provided you with a passport too. You’re going to need ID to get through security. I don’t care how much blue stuff you throw around, I don’t think you can sweet talk your way around Homeland Security.”

  Gregory looked insulted. “I’m an angel. I certainly can ‘sweet talk’ my way around Homeland Security.”

  I snorted. “Fine. This is going to be loads of fun. Let’s go, pretty boy.”

  I got our boarding passes, checked our luggage, which was really my luggage, and steered him toward security. It was a huge line snaking through twisting paths of webbed dividing tape. Tired and bored travelers inched along with glazed faces, dragging carry–on, roller–board luggage in their wake. We’d be here an hour at the least. I’d had the foresight to grab a latte before getting in line. It was always a gamble since I’d need to throw it away if I hadn’t finished my drink by the time we made it to the scanners.

  “How do you buy things like this, anyway?” I asked as we moved a few steps forward. “You don’t really have a wage–earning job. Do you counterfeit the money? Do you compel the humans into giving you these things for free? Does the Vatican bankroll you? Give you a Visa platinum with a picture of the Pope on it?”

  Demons were good at earning and stealing money, but angels were probably above that sort of thing. I’d been wondering for some time now who or what was funding them.

  “Why is this taking so long?” Gregory ignored my question and looked around in annoyance. We’d moved about three feet in the last ten minutes.

  “They never have enough machines and personnel to get people through quickly, so they just tell everyone to arrive two to three hours before their flight to stand in line here.”

  I excitedly instructed him in the convoluted methods of human travel, thinking he’d enjoy the rules and restrictions, so similar to all the Ruling Council nonsense. “Sometimes you hit it right and blow through this whole process in five minutes, other times you’re here for an hour.”

  The angel huffed. “That’s ridiculous. Why don’t they open more lines? Buy more machines?”

  �
�Oh, there’s more,” I added gleefully. “If you are flagged, or act up, then they pull you into a room and take incredible liberties with your possessions and physical being. We probably don’t have enough time for that, regretfully. I highly recommend it.”

  He glared down at me. “Do not act up, little Cockroach. If your actions result in us being detained, I’ll beat you to a bloody pulp.”

  Oooo, promises, promises. Gregory’s temper was starting to flare. I loved it when that happened. His irritation with the whole process was stirring up my naughty side.

  “Those people up there,” I continued, pointing. “They look at your ID and your boarding pass and check that all out. Then you go up to that conveyer belt and grab a bunch of those grey tubs. You need to take off half your clothes, shoes, jewelry, empty your pockets, take computers out of cases, separate any liquid items out of your luggage then put them in a single layer in the grey bins. The bins go through the x–ray machine there and you walk through the scanner when the security guy tells you to.”

  “I’m not removing my clothing,” Gregory announced. “And I am not going through a scanner either.” He was starting to blur a bit around the edges. I grinned in delight.

  “Those scanners there are just the typical metal detector kind. If you beep, they’ll ask you to check your pockets again and go through a second time. If you fail a second time, you get patted down and they sweep you with a metal detecting wand. If you fail that, it’s off to the naked–grope room for you. Those other scanners are a type of MRI machine that projects a lovely image of your naked body to some dude in a control room.”

  “That won’t be happening,” he snarled, far from the picture of angelic composure.

  I looked over my angel, inching slowly along. Blurry glow aside, he was a total hottie. I’m sure the humans would be thrilled to pat him down. Fuck, I’d be thrilled to pat him down. And I’d pay good money to get a look at the MRI image of him. Thinking of what it would reveal, I was once again struck with a fit of uncontrollable laughing.

  “What now?” he demanded as we shuffled a few feet.

  “Naked body,” I gasped, still laughing. “You need to make sure you have all your human parts, because if they see something unusual, it’s going to be all over the airport in five seconds. There will probably be pictures on the internet before you’re halfway to the gate.”

  He glared at me. “What are you talking about? I look human.”

  Right. He was taller than a good ninety percent of the humans in line, and built like a weightlifter. Add in his oddly textured skin, glow, black eyes, and he didn’t look human at all. If he hadn’t entranced everyone in a hundred yard radius, they would have all been freaking out. But it wasn’t what showed that was making me laugh, it was what I was pretty sure he didn’t have under his clothes.

  I motioned him to lean down to me, because he was so fucking tall that I couldn’t whisper in his ear otherwise. “The humans are all convinced you’re some movie star or something. You’ve got your mojo working on them pretty well right now, but if you step in that machine and you’re not wearing a penis and some balls, there is going to be an uproar. All the blue stuff in the world won’t be enough to keep those pics off the Internet.”

  Gregory ground his teeth, his black irises spreading to envelop his eyes in darkness. “I won’t be stepping in that machine, and there is no need for me to manifest human reproductive organs.”

  Probably not, but it would be a whole lot of fun if he did.

  I should have just shut up, but I continued to egg him on. I loved annoying him into a physical reaction. An angel punching me across the airport might make us miss our flight, but duking it out with Gregory would be worth it.

  “I don’t know why I’m giving you advice here, but I’d suggest you make everything a rather normal size. Dick about four inches flaccid, six inches if you want to be seen sporting a woody. Do not go smaller, and don’t exceed that by more than an inch or you’ll cause a riot.”

  He snarled, shooting out a hand to grab my neck. I dodged to avoid him. “Balls around the size of walnuts in a decent–sized sack.”

  He lunged at me again, and I ducked under his arm, nearly knocking over a group of businessmen in suits. Teasing him was so much fun. I felt giddy, out of control and unable to heed any warning signs.

  “Dude, I’m not only trying to protect your reputation here, I’m trying to protect mine. I don’t want it said that I’m traveling in the accompaniment of a eunuch, or a less–than–averagely endowed man. I wouldn’t mind the Ron Jeremy size, but I don’t want to have to fight off every man and woman in this airport. You’re attracting enough worshipful attention as it is without everyone trying to get a grope on your junk.”

  He managed to finally get his hands around my neck, choking me into silence as we continued to inch forward.

  “I will not go through any machinery. I will not lower myself to human physical standards. You will be silent and behave yourself. Understand?”

  I nodded, gasping and coughing as he released me. Not a single person had protested my mistreatment. Angels got away with everything.

  I could feel his increasing irritation as we slowly moved in our line. With each step, his glow intensified. It was all I could do to remain silent and not bait him further. I hoped they flagged him for his lack of identification. I hoped even more that they hauled him off for a strip search. I couldn’t wait.

  Finally, we reached the document checking station. I gave them the boarding passes and my passport. Gregory, of course, gave them nothing. The woman glanced at the boarding passes and looked at us apologetically. “You both are first class. You didn’t have to wait in this line, you could have gone right through the VIP line over there.”

  I could feel Gregory’s fury coming off him in waves. It was funny.

  “Wow, I did not know that,” I told her kindly. “Goodness, honey, did you hear that? We’ll need to remember that next time.” I’m a terrible liar, and Gregory looked like he was ready to rip my head off and toss it through the painted girders on the ceiling.

  “Do you have your ID, sir?” the woman asked nicely. She was smiling at him with all her might. Ha, busted, I thought, grinning with anticipation.

  “You have it right there,” the angel indicated gently, a cloud of blue coming from him.

  Fucking bastard. It worked. If the woman had been besotted before, she was in rapture now. He’d gone from hottie movie star to avatar of her god. She didn’t even look down at the paperwork. Didn’t look anywhere but into his eyes with worshipful adoration.

  “Of course, sir. Have a wonderful flight.”

  I–told–you–so was written all over his smug face as we walked to the pile of grey bins. Fine. This was war. Gregory stood there and watched me, tapping his foot as I stripped off shoes, belt, and necklace. Asshole. He didn’t even remove his shoes. Glaring at him, I yanked my t–shirt off and threw it in the bin.

  “Oh, you only have to take coats and jackets off, not your shirt,” the security guy told my lacy, bra–clad breasts.

  “Cockroach,” Gregory warned. “Put your shirt back on and behave.”

  Nope. Not going to happen. I knew I was pushing too hard, that I was becoming annoying, like that drunk cousin at Grandma’s birthday party. I couldn’t help it, though. I was an imp, after all. So I ignored his command and kept right on baiting him.

  “The shirt has metal threads. I don’t want to set off the alarm.” I turned to walk through the scanner and turned back. “Will my piercings set off the scanner?” I batted my eyes at the security guy. The innocent routine usually didn’t work, but it’s not like he was even looking at my face.

  “Put your shirt back on, right now,” a blond woman in a security uniform commanded.

  I looked down at the shirt in my hand and up at Gregory, delaying just a moment as if I were considering noncompliance. I knew I was a breath away from a lengthy strip search and possible expulsion from the airport. As much as I wa
nted to piss Gregory off, some common sense rattled its way into my head. I did need to get out and examine this demon. And I didn’t want this whole thing to be extended any longer than it had to.

  “Cockroach, if you don’t put your shirt back on right now, I will forcibly stuff you into it.”

  I paused, the shirt just above my head and sighed as I pulled it on. I really did want Gregory to “stuff me into it”, but we didn’t have the time for that sort of fun.

  “Fine. Spoil sport.”

  “I’ll send her through and wand her,” the security woman announced.

  While we were waiting for the scanner, Gregory had already walked right past and was waiting, bored, on the other side next to my pile of stuff. I assumed the position, and held still while the scanner whirred away. As I thought, the folks looking at the readout asked to have me patted down and gone over with the wand. I was surprised they didn’t order a strip search with the interesting piercings I’d created just for this event.

  “Where are you heading?” the blond security woman asked, her tone indicating this was some kind of terrorist screening question.

  “Seattle,” I told her. “I’m checking over a dead demon to see if I can find any clues to the killer and help track him down before the angels blame the whole mess on me.”

  “And I take it the big guy is your doctor?” she asked dryly. “Ensuring you’re safely on your meds for the flight?”

  I laughed. “Nope. He’s an angel.”

  She looked longingly over at Gregory as she patted me down. “I’ll say he is. He could be my angel any day.”

  “Not likely,” I told her cheerfully. “He doesn’t have the right parts for you. You’d be terribly disappointed.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “I’m sure we’d manage somehow. You’re good to go. Have a good flight.”

  Gregory glared at me and paced as I put on the enormous quantity of accessories I’d removed for the security process. Although this game of annoy–the–angel was fun, I was quickly running out of ideas, and I was on a tightrope in regards to Gregory’s temper. I would love for him to lose control and slam me around a bit, but I didn’t want him so furious that I’d spend a seven hour flight stuffed in the overhead bins, or strapped to the wing.