Where Angels Fear to Tread Read Online Free PDF Page A

oozing down his chin.
    "If we weren't in a public place, I'd take you now, you gorgeous hunk of man," Remy said.
    They both laughed, then turned their attentions toward finishing their meals.
    "Did you really want to burn her?" Mulvehill asked suddenly, breaking their silence. "Seriously?"
    Remy looked up into his friend's worried gaze. He couldn't lie to him. "Yeah, I did," he answered quietly. He took the napkin from his lap and wiped his mouth.
    "I have to say that isn't such a good thing."
    Remy agreed. "No, and it worries me. Since Madeline . . . I feel myself drifting. . . . Not all the time, but sometimes, when certain things push a button."
    Mulvehill noisily chewed the last of his pastrami sandwich and wiped the grease and mustard from his face. "The next well-done corpse I find in the city, I'm looking for you, pal," he said.
    Remy gripped his water glass, staring at the ice and lemon slice. "It scares me."
    His friend remained quiet. No snarky comeback; it wasn't the time.
    "I'm afraid of the day when I can't . . . when I don't want to keep it inside anymore."
    "Is that a possibility?" Mulvehill asked.
    "Could be." Remy shrugged. "Probably not right now, but there could come a time when I won't have the things around me that keep me anchored to this world."
    "Like Maddie," Mulvehill said quietly.
    Remy silently nodded. "She was the most amazing thing in my life here, but now there's just this giant void where she used to be." He could feel a darkened mood descending on him, as it had a tendency to do when he thought too hard about things connected to his fragile humanity.
    "I know what your problem is," Mulvehill said, tossing his napkin onto the tabletop. "I should've given you the gift certificate."
    Remy looked across the table at his friend. "Should've given me the gift certificate? What the hell are you talking about?"
    "You could've used it for a date," Mulvehill said. "You could've taken somebody out for a nice dinner and maybe found a new anchor—not that anybody could ever replace Maddie. I'm just saying it might help."
    Remy had to laugh. "You think I should date?" he asked incredulously.
    "Yeah, why not?" Mulvehill asked. "What was the name of that woman you told me about?" He snapped his fingers. "The waitress . . . you know who I mean."
    "Linda," Remy said, focusing on the water in his glass again.
    "Yeah, Linda. Why not go out with her?"
    It was all so very complicated. Remy had met Linda Somerset through Francis. During the Great War in Heaven, Francis had chosen the wrong side, but then saw the error of his ways and was desperate to make amends. The Almighty had given him the duty of watching over one of the passages to the Hell prison of Tartarus, which just so happened to be in the basement of the apartment building that the Guardian angel owned on Newbury Street.
    The last time Remy saw Francis, he had been badly wounded in the effort to prevent the Morningstar's catastrophic return to Hell. Remy still held out hope that somehow Francis had managed to survive.
    Although as time passed, it was becoming less and less likely.
    Francis had been obsessed with Linda Somerset, even though she knew nothing of his interest. Remy had spoken to the attractive waitress at Newbury Street's Piazza restaurant a few times since Francis' disappearance, and he could understand his friend's fixation.
    There was definitely something about Linda Somerset.
    "I'd rather not talk about it," Remy said, hoping, but doubting, that would be the end of the discussion.
    Their waiter approached the table. "Are you gentlemen finished?" he asked, reaching for their plates.
    "Could you wrap that last piece of burger in some foil for me?" Remy asked the well-groomed Hispanic man who had introduced himself as Harry.
    Harry smiled. "You must have a dog?" he asked, lifting the plate from the table.
    "No, he's gonna have that as a snack later," Mulvehill offered. "He's really cheap."
    "Will you shut up," Remy snarled. "Yes, I do, and