“Dov and Col didn’t get quite the reward they thought they would,” Grace told them, though everyone had heard it. “Canaan ripped them both a new one for going out before sunset. They were both so pale and shaky when they came in. They tried to laugh it off, but Canaan wasn’t having it. He was still angry about it when we went to bed.”

  “Nico, too. I guess I never thought about it before. I mean, I knew it would make them weak and sick, but I never thought about the consequences. What if there had been demons in that house?” Hope leaned in again and whispered, “What if she tried to hurt them again?”

  JJ blew her off with a wave of her hand. “They said whatever it was she threw at them washed right over them. We can’t hurt them with our power. The only reason I zapped Nardo that first time was because he walked into it.”

  JJ could control fire and had the ability to zap someone with the electrical impulse that flowed from her fingertips. The twins called her a walking stun gun.

  “I can.” Hope straightened her shoulders and bobbled her head in a haughty show of superiority. She was telekinetic and could move objects with a flick of her wrist, though she usually had to weave a spell with her fingers before she could do it well. “When I fling something across the room, it hits whoever’s in the way. If I ever throw a tantrum, you all just better look out.”

  Grace and JJ laughed. There wasn’t an aggressive bone in Hope’s body and she’d never thrown a tantrum in her life. She also had the least practice and therefore the least control over her power because she was terrified of hurting someone.

  “The child is frightened,” Manon said quietly.

  The three younger women turned to stare at her.

  Pinkie never took her eyes off of Grace while she worked on Broadbent’s back. The dozen amulets she had hung about her neck all tingled with power and they knew it came from Pinkie’s mumbling under her breath. When the wounds were finally cleaned and dressed and Broadbent was sleeping peacefully, she’d boldly told Grace that she would take over Broadbent’s care. When Grace tried to offer her a guest room, the woman insisted she stay with Broadbent and she hadn’t left the small apartment in two days.

  “Qui,” Manon said as if they’d argued with her. “It is in her eyes. She was frightened of us. Not them,” she referred to the men, “Us.”

  This time, Grace did argue. “But she’s one of us.”

  “Is she?” Hope asked quietly. “She was born like us, but what if she’s one of them?”

  They’d met Daughters before who’d embraced the dark.

  “Those were curses she was muttering,” she went on. “I felt it. So did you. She weaves her power with words the way I weave mine with my fingers. Manon’s right. She was frightened. She was wondering what we were going to do, but I thought it was worry over Broadbent. Maybe she was worried about us.”

  “But why? We’re harmless.” Grace used the arms of her chair to push herself up to standing.

  JJ shook her head in contradiction. “No, we’re not, and we’ve all proved it. Even Miss Priss here can pack a witchy punch.” She winked at Hope. “Being the good guys, Grace, is not the same as being harmless. What if she’s not a good guy? She’d have every reason to be afraid.”

  “But she’s with Broadbent.” Grace said it as if it were a recommendation. She moved her weight from one foot to the other in an attempt to shift the baby off her bladder. It didn’t work.

  “Yep, she is.” JJ opened her eyes wide and jutted her head out, waiting for a response. When it didn’t come, she continued. “Just think about that. Doesn’t it seem a little strange? Pink hair, purple paisley skirts, peasant blouses, head scarves, and enough ear hoops, bangles and bells to form her own brass band. Does that sound like the Professor?” She frowned and rolled her eyes at Grace’s squirming. “And will you go to the bathroom before you wet the floor?”

  Grace started to laugh, then squeezed her thighs together and hurried off. “Don’t say anything else until I get back,” she called over her shoulder.

  Hope ignored the order. “You’re not saying she bewitched him, are you? Because I thought we agreed, our powers don’t work on Guardians.”

  “She’s got other powers besides her witchy ones.” JJ grinned at Manon when the old woman laughed, too. “You and the Professor have a lot in common, Hope; shy, socially awkward,” she began to list. She held her hand out, palm down and teetered it back and forth. “You’re both a little...”

  “Weird. You’re going to say weird,” Hope huffed.

  “Well, I wasn’t, but now that you’ve said it, yeah, weird. In the sweetest possible way,” she cautioned before Hope got any huffier. “Come on, you’ve got to admit you were a babe-in-the-woods when it came to the love department. Let’s face it, you fell for Nico’s pretty face right off the bat.” The hand came up to stop Hope’s protest. “And please don’t say it was his charming personality. You were too drunk to notice, Miss Priss, and if he’d put the moves on you that night, you would have fallen into bed with him like that.” JJ snapped her fingers.

  Hope put her fists on her hips. “He was a gentleman and he’d rescued me which was very romantic. Unlike Nardo. If I recall correctly, you got the hots for him while he had his hand around your throat, trying to kill you.”

  JJ threw up her hands. “Yeah, but I’d been around enough to know what was hot and what was not.”

  “Broadbent’s not like the other guys. I don’t think he’s been around at all.”

  “That’s my point. It wouldn’t take witchcraft to turn his head. All it would take is a flirty little fluffball who’d make him an offer he’s never been offered before. If...” She pointed her finger skyward. “...he even knows what to do with it and I‘m not sure about that. What I want to know is what’s her motive?”

  “Geez, Manon. We need to get us a couple of squirt bottles,” Grace said as she came back into the room. “The cats are at it again.” Her head snapped up as she spied the woman who entered from the other side of the room. “Oh-oh.”

  Pinkie also stood with hands on hips. “I’ll tell you what my motive is; to protect Broadbent until he’s on his feet again. He’s a hero, my hero, and if anyone tries to hurt him while he’s weak and defenseless, they’ll find out how little I resemble a fluffball!”

  Manon scratched the ears of the purring ball of tawny fur curled in her lap. She smiled at Grace and spoke as if the other women weren’t there. “Qui, le chat has been at it again and I believe she has done well.”

  JJ, solid muscles clearly defined beneath the long sleeves of her tight, black tee, towered over the soft little woman in flowing skirts and scarves. She eyed her up and down and started to laugh. “I’ll bet they would.”

  Pinkie wasn’t listening. “He’s wonderful, can’t you see that? He’s like Gary Cooper and James Stewart and Randolph Scott all rolled into one.”

  JJ threw up her hands to stop her. “Whoa! Back it up. We’re talking about Broadbent, right?” She raised her hand above her head. “Tall, gangly guy, all arms and legs, lovable, but geeky? Quotes classical shit no one’s ever heard of and spouts poetry?”

  “Who’s Randolph Scott?” Hope asked.

  “He’s not geeky and what do you mean he doesn’t know what to do with it?” Pinkie snapped her head to the side. “Old Western movie star,” she said to Hope.

  “Which you’d know if you watched more TV,” called a voice from the other room.

  “Oh, um...” Grace raised her finger. “Ladies, maybe we could...”

  “I don’t know,” JJ countered loudly. She watched the newcomer closely for a reaction. “Broadbent’s never shown much interest in women.”

  “Well he’s not gay, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Col walked in holding a plate in one hand and a fork in the other. He took a bite of the huge slice of chocolate cake on the plate and waved the fork at Manon. “Good cake,” he said.

  “How do you know?” Grace asked.

  “Cuz Dov and me know everything,” he said smugly. “And a while back we checked it out. There’s this really great bar over on thirty-eighth that Dov and I go to sometimes. Kind of a gay hangout, ya know? Good music and a hundred and twenty-seven kinds of beer.”

  “Broadbent doesn’t go to bars,” Pinkie said. “The music’s too loud and everyone shouts. He can’t think.”

  He’d told her that one night while they were watching Casablanca. Rick's Café Américain fascinated him and he said he thought he might enjoy such a place, rather than the loud and noisy places he was forced to visit through his work which, at the time, he’d only vaguely explained.

  Col grinned at her. “I know. He complains about it all the time. We worked it so he had to. Dov and Nardo took out this demon ya see, a real stinker, and Dov saved the shirt. Stunk up the Escalade somethin’ awful, let me tell ya. Took us a month to get rid of the smell. Kept buying those little cardboard air freshener thingies...”

  All this was said in between mouthfuls of cake until JJ grabbed the plate away.

  “Talk first, then eat.”

  “Geez, a little bitchy today, are we?” he groused, reaching for the plate.

  “Talk!” four women shouted at once.

  “Okay, okay, no need to get huffy.” With a glance of longing at the remainder of his cake, he continued. “Dov dragged the shirt through the bar while I was patrolling with the Professor. Like always, we had to follow the scent, but no demon.” This last was said in a sing-song voice with hands spread, and then he grinned. “So I say ‘May as well have a beer.’ He says, ‘You may imbibe to your heart’s content when we get home.’ You know how he is. So I say, ‘We don’t have a hundred and twenty-seven kinds of...”

  “Col!”

  Col threw up his hands. “Damn it! I don’t know what you want from me. You said talk, I’m talking!”

  “Short version. What happened?”

  “Nothing, that’s what happened. He never looked once at those guys and some of them were pretty hot. All I got was a glass of beer and a twenty minute lecture on society’s view of homosexuality over the last million years. Hey, did you guys know they used to put people in jail for that shit?” He shook his head. “Weird, huh? Can I have my cake back?”

  “Doesn’t prove anything,” JJ said as she handed the plate back.

  “Sure it does,” Col said around a mouthful of cake. “Take him into any other bar and he’s watching bootie same as the rest of us. He just never picks it up and takes it home.” He grinned at Pinkie. “The Professor has discriminating taste. Discriminating,” he said to the others, “Showing fine taste or good judgment. It was yesterday’s word of the day. And why are you asking me about this shit? Why don’t you ask her?” He used his thumb to point at Pinkie. “I’m gonna go get some milk to go with my cake.”

  “Thank you,” Grace called after him.

  “You making meatloaf for supper?” he called back.

  “That was the deal. I’ll throw in apple pie if you tell us how you got her here.”

  “I told her this was my place and I had chocolate cake.”

  JJ snorted. “Then you’d better get the poor girl a slice, you greedy devil, and while you’re at it, cut one for me, too. Anybody else?”

  “Don’t ask stupid questions.”

  “That’s five more slices. And use a glass. If I find any crumbs in that milk jug, I’ll turn you and then I’ll kill you.” She turned to the others. “It’s so gross and they do it all the time,” and then to Pinkie, “So?”

  Pinkie’s face flamed. Broadbent hadn’t even kissed her, hadn’t even tried. Every once in a while, she’d catch him staring at her, studying her like a specimen in a jar as if he couldn’t quite figure out what she was. She knew he liked her. Why else would he come by so often? And it wasn’t like she hadn’t given him every opportunity to try.

  She’d thought he just wasn’t interested in anything more than friendship and consoled herself with the thought that it was because he was an angel and above such things, but apparently angels liked sex as much as mortals, just not with her.

  “JJ! Leave the poor girl alone.” Grace started forward.

  Hope got there first. Putting her arm around the girl’s shoulder, she whispered her answer to Pinkie’s unspoken question. “It doesn’t mean he’s not interested. It only means he’s a gentleman.”

  “And dumb as a post when it comes to women,” JJ laughed.

  Pinkie gave herself a mental shake and said aloud, “It doesn’t matter anyway. I won’t be staying and I didn’t come for the chocolate cake. I figured you were over here and only came to thank you for letting me stay and for taking care of Broadbent and to ask you to keep looking out for him. He really is a hero, you know, and he needs to hear that from the people he respects and admires. And...” she asked quickly and a little shyly, “could you spend just a little more time with him? Maybe take him to the movies or something? There’s a theater over on Center Street that shows old movies on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He likes old movies and I think he’s lonely.”

  She’d thought about taking him there herself and was going to suggest it the night it all fell apart.

  Col came in with a tray and began to pass out plates. “We’ve asked him to come with us. He always says no.” His attempt to remain straight-faced failed.

  “That’s because you two only go to the dirty movie theater.” Hope pursed her lips.

  “Yeah, but they’re old dirty movies.”

  Grace gave him a look and pointed to the door. “Good-bye, Col.”

  “That was a hint,” JJ added.

  No one spoke until the door closed behind him.

  “You’re not talking about going home, are you?” Grace said it as a statement and not a question.

  Pinkie shook her head. “No, I’m not. I’m closing up my shop. I...I can’t stay. Something’s come up and I have to leave.”

  Manon, who looked like she’d been dozing in her chair, raised her head and reached for Grace’s hand and said in French. “I was wrong. She is not afraid of us. She is afraid for us. Why?”

  Grace repeated the question. “Why?”

  Pinkie had been afraid of them at first. She’d been afraid they’d see her for what she really was and refuse to let her stay with Broadbent or worse, would tell him what they saw.

  It didn’t matter now. Broadbent had slept peacefully in her arms for two days while his wounds healed. It was as close to loving him as she would ever get. He’d be fine without her now. He’d sleep for a few more hours, thanks to her potion, and when he awakened, she’d be gone. She wouldn’t have to see his disappointment.

  “I’m not what you think I am,” she told the women to whom she’d been so rude. “I’m not like you.”

  “Yes, you are. We knew it right away,” Hope told her gently.

  Pinkie shook her head. “The twins told me all about you on the way here. They said you’re good and kind and brave.”

  “Hell just froze over and you’ve entered the Twilight Zone,” JJ intoned in a deep voice. She sputtered a laugh and Grace and Hope smiled.

  “We know they love us,” Grace explained to Pinkie, “But that’s not how they usually express it.”

  Pinkie couldn’t hold back her genuine smile. “That’s not how they expressed it to me, either, but it’s what they meant. And you’d have to be, wouldn’t you?”

  “Why would we have to be?” Grace asked suspiciously. “What did those two tell you?”

  “Oh, they didn’t tell me,” Pinkie hurried on, “They mentioned Guardians and I’d already thought that Broadbent might be one, and then the twins showed up when I prayed for help.” She shrugged. “They fight demons. It made sense. They’re Guardian angels.”

  JJ nodded in sober understanding. “Now I see what you mean about not being like us. We never would have thought the twins were angels.” She ran her tongue over the inside of her cheek.

  Hope had her hand held over her mouth, grasping her nose between her thumb and forefinger so she wouldn’t laugh. When she gained control she said, “I can understand Broadbent. He’s such a honey. But you poor thing, you must have known some really bad people to see anything angelic in Dov and Col.”

  Pinkie didn’t share their mirth. “I did and I do and that’s why I can’t stay. They’ve found me and I need to go. I’ve done some not-so-good things and this is my reward, but I can’t lay my sins at Broadbent’s door and I won’t lay them at yours either. I have to run.”

  “What have you done?” Grace asked quietly.

  “It doesn’t matter. Just know that none of you would have done it. No good person would.” Pinkie turned to leave, but JJ blocked her way.

  “Have you killed someone? Have you let an innocent die?” They were questions, but there was an accusation there, too.

  All color drained from Pinkie’s face. She closed her eyes and reached out for something to steady herself. They knew!

  “JJ, you’re not a cop anymore. Stop interrogating her.” Grace’s call was laced with warning.

  “No, Grace. We need to know. She needs to tell us. Have you, Pinkie? You know what I mean, some human who just got in the way? That’s what we call them; innocents.” JJ took the soft and floundering hand in her strong and steady one. Her voice became a whisper. “Because I have. I caused the death of two good men, men I loved. I think about those two men a lot. One was my lover and one was my friend.”

  This time Grace’s voice came with a sharp edge that cut through the silence that followed JJ’s admission.

  “You were no more responsible for that than I am for Alice or Hope for Faith.”

  “But I was responsible,” Hope contradicted, “Even without my powers, I could have stopped him. But I was afraid and I didn’t stop him, and that makes me responsible for what happened to Faith.” Her voice too, was low and quiet, recalling things she wished she could change. “Admit it, Grace, what happened to Alice still haunts you.”

  Reluctantly, Grace nodded. “Logic only applies to other people, I guess. I still feel guilty.”

  “How did you know?” Pinkie asked just as quietly. “Which one of you looked into my past?”

 

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