The Darkest Night Read Online Free PDF Page B

specializing in modern death rituals had an unusually—and uncomfortably—perceptive eye, sunglasses or no. But she thanked the angel-woman and made her way down the crunchy sidewalk.
    “Happy Holidays,” Nanette called.
    Bella waved and kept walking.
    But at the closing click of the door behind her, she stopped. Then she turned a right angle and prowled into the yard.
    A porch rambling the front length of the building, festooned with plastic garland and icicle lights, had lots of nooks and crannies, and the obstacle course of holiday-themed statuary offered extra hiding places. But Bella sensed nothing amiss besides the eyesore of décor. Something was keeping Pastor Littlejohn on edge, but what could one old man discern that would have escaped Nanette with her angel and Sera with her repentant teshuva demon?
    With a shake of her head, Bella aimed for the sidewalk again. As she passed the nativity scene, she snagged the illuminated infant out of the plastic hay. The cord snapped free and the light went out. The visible light anyway.
    She tucked him under her arm and returned to her car where she tossed him into the trunk with a dozen other statues from her earlier stops. One of the more secular minded churches had even had its cookies for Santa out already, which would now bring more joy to the nursing home residents than the inevitable rats. Bella figured she was doing everyone a favor, though she doubted anyone else would see it that way.
    Then again, no one on earth saw the way she did. Maybe she’d carelessly forgotten for a few moments in an angel-man’s arms, but she wouldn’t make that mistake again. She had another savior now. She’d found Jesus. A whole lotta Jesuses.

Chapter 4
     
     
    Fane steered the Porsche through the darkness of the industrial district, watching the passing streetlights as if they might reveal answers to some of the dimness in his own head.
    He'd brooded for only a couple of days, possibly a new record for him. Maybe it was the Christmas spirit.
    He had to admit, being with Bella had knocked something loose. Something besides his morals. The way she’d taken what she wanted had reminded him, if he was cut off from the sphericanum, he had to take matters into his own hands. Which he should have done before but he'd been brooding.
    At this time of night, the warehouses were abandoned, everyone gone for the night and maybe trying to sneak in a few extra days of vacation. Light gleamed from only one building, sullenly low and striped with black from the security bars, but light. He parked outside the @1 headquarters and went to the door.
    The glass was smoked so he couldn't see inside, but he pushed the intercom button and waited. And waited. Then he pushed it again and held it down.
    “I know you can see me,” he said.
    After a moment, a grumpy voice answered. “You're right. That's why I didn't answer.”
    “Let me in.”
    “I can't think of a single reason...” There was a muffled discussion of multiple voices. “Oh fine.”
    The door buzzed, and Fane pushed inside.
    The foyer, which would have been a front desk area for a real business, was empty except for the steel buttresses reinforcing the walls and ceiling. It looked like a combination cathedral and apocalyptic bunker. Which, Fane figured, it basically was.
    To his disgust, the angel inside him eased, the prickles that often marched his skin relaxed. He'd always wondered what kind of divine entity willingly left heaven to inhabit a human host. Was unending war against evil so enticing? Or maybe his angel hadn't left willingly. Maybe that's why it seemed to find a strange comfort amid the talyan.
    Though he'd ever let them know that.
    He stood staring up at the steel beams, lost in the darkness at the ceiling, until the thud of boots interrupted him.
    Since the talyan were capable of absolute silence—even the females who occasionally chose stilettos—he knew the stomping was for his benefit.
    He didn't look down. “You