The Angel of Death (The Soul Summoner Book 3) (30 page)

It was a fair question because I was acting like a lunatic. I was sure my doctor would have deemed this a “Xanax-essential” situation, but I shook my head.

“They tell me you’re not eating or drinking any fluids. That’s not healthy for you or the baby. You know that,” he said.

Honestly, I hadn’t even noticed.

“McNamara’s been here all night, of course, but you know I can’t let him back here to see you,” he said. “Your lawyer just got here, so you’ll see him in a little while.”

I pulled my knees up to my chest. “Thank you,” I whispered.

He squeezed my hand where it lay on the floor. “I hate this, Sloan. I wish you the best of luck.”

Before he left, he took the blanket off my bed and draped it over me.

A little while later, I heard footsteps again. “Jordan,” a man said.

I forced myself to look up.

The deputy didn’t look old enough to be a deputy. “Ms. Jordan, I need to cuff you to take you down to see your attorney. Can you come put your hands through this slot in the door?”

It took a few tries and several deep breathing exercises to get me off the floor. When I finally made it to the door, I stuck my hands through it and let him put handcuffs back on my bruised wrists.
 

The kid held onto my arm as we shuffled down the hallway. He smelled of Axe Body Spray and had teenage boy acne and a taser. I felt very safe.
 

We turned a corner and stopped in front of a bright white room. Inside, a man with strawberry blond hair and pale skin was looking through a file folder on the table in front of him. Alarm bells went off in my head.
Not human. Not human. Not human.

Then the man looked up and ice ran through my veins when I locked on his eyes. They were striking blue, the same color as Taiya’s.

Ysha.

The boy-deputy urged me forward, but I dug the heels of my flip-flops against the concrete floor. “Ms. Jordan, I need you to move your feet,” he said, looking at me like I was crazy. Maybe I was.

The angel stood when we entered. He was dressed in a tailored, navy suit and tie. A briefcase was laying on the table with pens and a legal pad. He certainly looked the part of a lawyer.

“Let me get those,” the deputy said, snapping me out of a fearful daze. He turned me toward him and removed the handcuffs.

“Are you leaving me in here?” I whispered.

He nodded. “Attorney-client privilege. Your meeting will be videotaped, but there will be no audio recording.”

I rubbed my aching wrists as he backed out the room, closing the door behind him. A clock on the wall said it was almost four. I’d already spent all night and all day in jail.

“Good evening, Sloan.” The angel’s voice was deep and melodic, and even though I was terrified of him, his simple presence calmed my nerves.

Slowly, I turned to face him, and he extended his hand. I didn’t accept it; I took a step back.

He squeezed a fist and dropped it to his side. “My name is Abner Tuinstra. Azrael sent me today when you were arrested.”

“You’re lying,” I said, stepping back into the corner.

He studied me for a moment, then his face split into a creepy smile. “What makes you say that?”

“I know who you are,” I said.

He unbuttoned his jacket and sat down. “And who is it that you think I am?”

“You’re Ysha, aren’t you?” I asked.

He smiled again. “How did you know?”

Azrael could have mentioned Ysha was a man, not a woman as I’d assumed. Maybe gender was an extraneous detail in the supernatural world.
 

“I know your daughter, Taiya.”

His head bowed slightly. “Ahh, yes. My little half-wit puppet. How is she?”

I could have clawed his perfect eyeballs out. “You destroyed her.”

“Oh, nonsense,” he said. “I made her better.”

“Better?”

He sighed and folded his hands together on the tabletop. “Humans are so much more efficient after they’ve been broken down and rebuilt. Empires have been conquered on the backs of broken humans. Ask that military boyfriend of yours.”

“But there’s no sense in what you did to her.”

“I don’t do anything without reason, Sloan. You have no idea what I have planned for my daughter.”

“You’re sick,” I said.

“I’ve been called worse.” He motioned to the chair across from him. “Please have a seat, Sloan.” His eyes snapped up. “Or should I call you Praea?”

My jaw clenched. “My name is Sloan.”

“Your mother would argue,” he replied. “But it doesn’t matter. Please sit.”

I shook my head. “No.”

He glared at me. “You’re of no use to me dead, my dear. I won’t hurt you.” He pulled a file folder from his briefcase. “I do, however, have a copy of your arrest paperwork. I’m sure you’re curious to see it.”

He was right.

“How do you have it?” I asked.

The angel turned his palms up. “I’m an attorney.”

“A real attorney?”

“Of course.” He touched the ID wallet hanging around his neck. “Would you like to see my Bar Association credentials?”

I sucked in a deep breath.

He offered me the folder. “Take this then.”

Ysha must have realized that, even for the paperwork, I wouldn’t budge from my spot in the corner. He opened the folder and took out the papers. “Shall I read it?” When I didn’t respond, he nodded. “It’s quite a list: conspiracy to commit sex trafficking, conspiracy to harbor aliens, money laundering, forgery, obstruction, perjury…”

My mouth fell open. “But that’s not true! How can they arrest me for something there’s no proof of? You and I both know I had nothing to do with that.”

“Do we?” The pleasure on his face was grotesque.

“What?” I asked.

He flipped to another sheet of paper. “According to this affidavit, there is video surveillance footage of you entering the Asheville Savings and Trust on Merrimon Avenue at 10:19 AM on Thursday, October 31
st
in the company of Abigail Smith.”

“What the hell?” I shouted.

“Apparently, you opened a safe deposit box.” Abner rifled through some paperwork, then slid a sheet of paper toward me. “Is this your signature?”

It was.

“I never visited any bank or opened any safe deposit box!”

He read over another sheet of paper. “Inside the box, they found a forged passport with your photograph, a new Texas driver’s license, a new social security card”—he looked up at me—“and a hundred thousand dollars in cash.”

I gripped the side of my face. “What is happening?”

And then it hit me.

I heard Abigail’s voice in my head when she was talking to me about how she raped my biological father.
“When I summon someone for a purpose, they often don’t remember it.”

I slid down the wall till my knees touched my chin.

Abner stood and walked around the table, sitting on the corner of it. “This is quite the predicament you’re in, isn’t it?”

Refusing to cry, I glared up at him. “So this is your master plan? Plant evidence to have me locked up while I’m pregnant?”

He shook his head. “No. It had been our hope you would come willingly, but I must say, this is one hell of a backup plan.” He chuckled as he swung his leg back and forth. “With this evidence, you’ll certainly be denied bail once you get to Texas, and when the case goes to trial, it will be a slam-dunk for the prosecution. Then we wait till that precious little asset growing in your womb doesn’t need you anymore, and you’ll officially be”—he held up his hands—“case closed
.”

I wanted to throw up. “Did you just come here to torture me?”

He glanced up at the halogen lights, then back down at me on the floor. “Yes.”

Slowly, I rose to my feet. “I don’t have to listen to this.” I banged my fist against the door. The deputy opened it. “Please take me back to my cell,” I said holding my wrists toward him.

He looked surprised.

I glanced over my shoulder at the demon. “And please tell Sheriff Davis not to allow Mr. Tuinstra in here again to see me.”

The lawyer stood, shaking his head as he closed his briefcase. He walked past us as the deputy put me in handcuffs. He winked at my jailer. “Some prisoners don’t know when they’ve been beaten, do they, son?”

The kid seemed too confused to answer.

Abner walked down the hall. “I’ll see you soon, Sloan.”

“Go to hell, Ysha.”

He cackled till he was out of sight.

* * *

I spent the next twenty minutes vomiting bile into my metal commode.

My assumption about Abigail being with another angel during her travels had been correct, except instead of Ysha or Phenex…it was me. And with no way to argue otherwise, I would spend the rest of my life in prison. Not the county jail. Federal prison.

That is if I survived giving birth which was more doubtful than ever.

For hours, I prayed for sleep to come. It never did. Each time I closed my eyes, the room would spin and the nausea would return. Somewhere a woman was screaming, and I couldn’t tell if it was inside the jail or only inside my head. Sweat soaked through my clothes and bed sheets.
 

Sometime, when all was quiet, I heard the bolt of the cell door slide open. I prayed whoever it was would kill me and end my misery.

Instead, I felt a hand on my back. Tingling warmth spread through me and immediately my nerves began to settle. I inhaled the deepest breath I’d taken in hours and blew it out slowly.
 

When I looked up, a pair of sapphire eyes sparkled down at me in the faint glow of the security lights.

It was Taiya.

I pushed myself up to face her. She was wearing the same jail issued uniform that I was. “What are you doing here?”

She smiled and pushed my matted hair out of my face. “Help.”

I grabbed the crazy waif and hugged her. “Thank you.”

When I pulled back, she stood and pointed to the open cell door. “Go.”

Shaking my head, I gulped. “Taiya, we can’t go!”

Her eyes widened, and she raised her hands in question. “Stay?” she asked, genuinely puzzled.

Wait. Who am I talking to?
“Let’s get out of here, Houdini.”

Taiya was truly a master at getting out of places. She knew when to hide, when to duck security cameras, and most importantly…how to open locked doors without a key. She took me down a couple of hallways I’d never visited and out a side emergency door. She was even able to silence the alarm.

We were in the yard but still behind a locked security fence when I felt the presence of two humans coming toward us. Back inside was the only way to go, and that wasn’t an option. She looked at me with wide eyes. “Run.”

Grabbing my hand, she bolted in the direction I’d felt the people coming. I had no choice but to follow. We turned a corner and passed two unsuspecting guards who were sharing a cigarette as they patrolled the grounds. Immediately, they were shouting and running after us, but Taiya didn’t slow or stop. She ran directly toward the huge gate meant for vehicles.
 

She threw her hands toward it and slowly it slid open. She jerked my arm forward, pulling me in front of her. “Run!” she screamed again.

I raced through the gate but looked back in time to see Taiya tackle the two guards, clotheslining them with her outstretched arms.

I’d been in the parking lot of the jail a million times but never at night and never running like a madwoman on foot. As fast as my feet would carry me, I ran toward the street. Suddenly, headlights flickered on behind me accompanied by the loud roar of a souped-up engine.

My jail-issued flip-flops pounded the asphalt as the car raced up next to me. It was Warren’s black Dodge Challenger.

The driver’s side window slid down. “Good evening, ma’am, would you like a ride?”

It was Nathan.

23.

Never in my life was I a rule breaker. I’d never so much as gotten a detention in school or even let a library book go overdue. But getting in the passenger side of that getaway car was the easiest choice I ever made. Once my seatbelt was fastened, Nathan stepped on the gas, slamming my head back against the leather headrest. “Hang on!”
 

The car’s tires screamed around the right turn onto College Street, then laid rubber tracks down as we cut a left onto Charlotte. A half a second later, we were barreling down Interstate 240, and I turned to look behind us. No one was following. The city planners certainly hadn’t put a lot of forethought into the road system when they built the jail.
 

Nathan was furiously shifting gears and checking the rearview mirror. He relaxed a tad when he merged onto Interstate 40 East, and still no one was behind us. He grasped my hand. “Are you OK?”

“Oh my god! You broke me out of jail!” I leaned over the middle console and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Oh my god! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Technically, Taiya broke you out,” he said.

I covered my mouth with my hands. “Oh no. They got her.”

He glanced over at me. “Something tells me, she won’t be there for long.”

I planted a loud, wet kiss on his cheek. “You’re my hero.”

He shook his head and checked the rearview mirror again. “Don’t call me that till we get out of this mess,” he said.
 

I gasped. “They’re gonna know it was you. Nathan, you’re going to lose your job.”

He laughed. “Sloan, if they catch us, I won’t have to worry about a job because I’ll be in jail.”

“Where’s Warren?” I asked.

Nathan checked the rearview. “We’ll see him shortly.” He jerked his thumb back over his shoulder. “In the back is a bag with some clothes in it and your purse.”

I found the backpack in the back floorboard, and I pulled out my purse that was laying on top in the main compartment. I dug around inside it for my phone.

“Where’s my cell?” I asked.

“At home. Those things can be tracked.” He looked over at me. “My sweatshirt is in that bag. You’re going to need it.”

I pulled out the black S.W.A.T. team hoodie that was inside. In any other situation, I would’ve at least laughed, but about that time, blue lights flashed inside our car. I squealed with panic as I yanked the sweatshirt over my head.