“So you keep saying,” I said, smiling to myself as Cas wordlessly took my dress bag out of my hands and added it to those he carried. “But I’m not feeling a real sense of urgency from you about your ten days.”
He shrugged. “It serves no one if I’m desperate and panicked every waking minute.”
“True, but…”
My words trailed as we came to a street corner. Our light was red, and we stood with a small group of people waiting to cross. A homeless man was leaning against the pole. Shirtless, skinny, he had shaggy hair that fell over his eyes. He mumbled a request for spare change, but no one waiting at the corner answered. No one even looked at him.
I dove into Cas’s bag that held the “donated” Metallica shirt. I gave it to the homeless man, then rummaged in my wallet that had nothing left but a ten-dollar bill.
“Thank you, miss,” the man said with a grateful smile that was missing a few teeth. “Have a blessed day.”
“You too,” I mumbled back, my throat thick, and crossed the street. Casziel fell in step beside me.
“The shirt off your back,” he said quietly.
“He needed eye-contact almost more,” I said, wiping my eyes. “Being seen…someone acknowledging that you exist matters. It matters a lot.” I inhaled shakily. “Never mind. What now? We still need to figure out a plan for you.”
Cas was quiet for a moment, thinking. “I wish to go exploring,” he said finally.
“You just said this wasn’t a vacation.”
“I changed my mind.”
“See, this is the lack of urgency I was talking about.”
“The answer will come. I haven’t seen the city in many years, Lucy Dennings.” He peered down at me. “I’d like to, one last time.”
The depth of his gaze and the longing that lurked beneath it made my heart pound.
Because this is his last chance for redemption. It’s a big deal and has nothing to do with you.
I vowed to stop going all soft and fluttery every time Cas pinned me with those amber eyes of his and remembered he was a demon. A demon who had, in his own words, committed a multitude of sins. But he’d chosen the right human to help him. He deserved a chance and not just because he was gorgeous. Or because I caught him looking at me sometimes the way a condemned man looks at the world on his last day of freedom.
Ah, Silly Lucy is back, sneered Deb or K. Silly Lucy with her silly romantic notions from her silly books—
Casziel whirled on me, snarling. His eyes flashed pure black, and for a split second, I saw the demonic form lurking within the beautiful human man beside me. The cold dread I’d felt when I’d first found him reached for me with icy fingers. Like what I imagined Harry Potter felt when a Dementor tried to suck out his soul.
The voice went silent, and Cas’s eyes reverted back to amber. He blinked innocently at me.
“Shall we?”
Eight
For the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, I took Casziel all over Manhattan. We stored our purchases in Grand Central Station, then strolled the paths at Central Park, took in the garish lights of Times Square, and watched the sun set from the top of the Empire State Building. I’d lived in NYC for years, yet this excursion felt like the first time I really appreciated the city. As if Cas were reacquainting me with an old friend.
After a dinner of Korean Barbeque, a dessert of ice cream sundaes, and—because he was a bottomless pit—a second dinner of pizza for the demon—we grabbed our bags and headed back to my neighborhood in Hell’s Kitchen.
The night was warm and soft, and I felt content in a way I hadn’t in a long time. I’d been out in the world, talking easily with Cas about my studies at NYU and an idea I had to repurpose plastic scrubbed from the oceans to make athletic shoes. Somehow, being with Cas tore down the barrier between me and my feelings and my shyness about sharing them. Maybe it was because he’d scared my demons away for the time being, but I didn’t feel foolish or silly. Hearing my idea out loud, it didn’t sound stupid either. It sounded workable. Necessary, even.
“Perhaps it’s time you shared your ideas with the people at your job,” he mused as we strolled through my neighborhood. “They’re all like-minded humans, desperate to save the oceans, are they not?”
“Yes.” I glanced up at him. “And I know what you’re going to say next—my big ideas can’t go anywhere if no one hears them.”
“Act
ually, I was going to say ocean preservation is a waste of time. In five years, a meteor is going to hit the earth and humans will share the fate of the dinosaurs.”
I gaped. “What…?”