Page 7 of Holy Shift (New Orleans Nocturnes #8)

CHAPTER SEVEN

“I can’t believe you did that. I can’t believe I did that.” Destiny wrung her hands and stared at the spot where the portal had once hung in the air. She was toast. Burnt toast. “I might as well grind up my wings and make divinity cookies out of them.”

Pete’s eyes widened in horror. “Is that really how they make them?”

She huffed and shook her head. “Of course not.”

“I’m going to prep dinner.” Mike started to pat her shoulder but let his hand drop to his side. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“Is it?” she asked, though she didn’t expect an answer. Mike was a demon, which meant as long as he didn’t hurt people, he could do whatever the hell he wanted. And Pete…apparently the man in charge of bringing joy to children all over the world every spring had a rebellious streak. Who would’ve guessed?

Destiny had no magic, a tick-tocking deadline, and a boss who was ready to slap a pink slip across her face the second she messed up again. How in heaven could everything turn out okay?

“Let me know when the cakes are ready. I’ll drop them at the civic center and meet y’all back at my place for dinner.” He strolled toward his home, right next door to hers.

Destiny turned to her bakery and found Pete waiting for her at the gate, his hands in his pockets, a sheepish expression on his face. She marched toward him, ready to tell him off, to say he couldn’t go hopping into any old hole he came across.

“I get the feeling I’ve never been fond of rules,” he said before she could begin her rant. “I’m sorry.”

“You…” His apology disarmed her, so she blew a hard breath through her nose and opened the gate, continuing her march toward the house. “Rules are what keep order in the universe.”

She stopped outside the door and whirled toward him. “It’s my job, the sole purpose of my existence, to maintain the balance here in New Orleans. An angel even poking a finger through a demon hole is… Well, it’s…”

“What she said?” He grinned.

Her teeth clicked audibly.

He held up his hands. “I apologize. That was crass.”

“No kidding.” Though the comment did help ease her tension a tiny smidge.

He ascended the front steps. “It’s against the rules, and you like to follow them.”

“Exactly. I have to.” She opened the door, but he caught her hand before she could step inside.

“I have a feeling your job isn’t the sole purpose of your existence.” His palm was warm, the expression in his eyes sincere.

Her pulse quickened, and she swallowed the dryness from her throat before tugging from his grasp and stepping through the threshold. “Apologies and kind words don’t change the fact that you made me use Mike’s hole.”

At least he had the courtesy to stifle his laugh as he followed her inside. He stopped in the center of the room and turned his head, taking in the scene. “This place is so familiar.”

“Because you were just here last night. Come on.” She gestured for him to follow her through the kitchen and up the steps, her stomach twisting and turning the whole way up.

“To be fair,” he said as he joined her upstairs, “I didn’t make you do anything. You poked Mike’s hole of your own volition, but I am sorry I put you in the position to make that decision.”

She tightened her lips and ground her teeth. Pete was right. No one had shoved her through. She could blame him all she wanted, but she’d used Mike’s hole…his portal…all on her own. If Gabriela found out what she’d done, she’d surely strip her wings permanently, effective immediately.

So… Destiny would just have to make sure she never found out.

And anyway, what else could the archangels expect? They’d unplugged her from the collective consciousness, stripped her of all magic, and rendered her essentially human while demanding she perform an angelic feat. And then there was Pete…

Her own conundrums aside, she had to find a way to restore his memories. She owed him that much.

“Christ on a cracker.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “This is such a mess.”

“I’ve never seen anything less of a mess in my entire life…or so I assume.” Pete turned a circle in the living room. “Neat freak much?”

Destiny followed his gaze to a bookcase filled with her favorite hardcovers, all in their proper places, alphabetized by author and then series and title, as they should be. “Not my house. Me, you, this whole situation is a mess. I don’t…” She flung her hands into the air and let them fall to her sides. “It’s an absolute hot mess express. How am I supposed to?—”

She clamped her mouth shut, lest she mention Easter in front of him again. The last time she tried to convince him he was the Easter Bunny, he’d turned tail and hopped away. If he wanted to pretend he was nothing more than a shifter, she would go along for now. What else could she do?

“Supposed to what?” he asked.

She opened a linen closet and pulled out a fluffy yellow towel. “Why are you here?”

“You promised me a shower and a meal. What man can say no to that?” He rubbed the back of his neck and flashed a lopsided smile that made her pulse race.

“Yesterday, you wanted nothing to do with me, and now you’re about to strip naked in my house. Why the sudden trust?” She offered the towel, and he accepted it.

He pressed his lips into a hard line, his gaze seeming to penetrate to her soul. She could practically hear the gears turning in his mind as he contemplated his answer. “I don’t know.”

She laughed dryly. “I suppose you don’t. The bathroom is at the end of the hall. If you’ll toss out your clothes, I’ll put them in the wash.”

He moved toward the bathroom, stopping just inside the door and turning to her. “I don’t remember how we met or what caused my amnesia, but honestly? I can’t imagine ever wanting nothing to do with you.”

He shrugged, the gesture adding and that’s the gods-honest truth to his statement before he closed the door.

“Heaven, help me.” She stood there in the hallway, her lips slightly parted. Or, hell, maybe her mouth hung open like a fish. Her heart flip-flopped in her chest, and the roiling in her stomach turned into flitting butterfly wings.

Why, in the name of the allfather, did that one simple sentence have the power to burrow deep inside her like this?

It wasn’t like he’d confessed his love and utter devotion to her, as if that were even possible. All he’d said was that he couldn’t imagine feeling animosity toward her. That didn’t mean anything, yet something in her soul insisted it did.

“Thank you.” The door cracked open, and Pete dropped a pile of clothes onto the floor before closing and locking it.

See, dummy? He locked the door. He doesn’t trust you after all . She scooped up the clothes and carried them to the washing machine. His sweater was ruined, but at least his t-shirt was still in one piece. She dropped the sweater into the machine and pressed his t-shirt to her nose, inhaling deeply.

He had an earthy scent with a hint of sweetness, like fresh-cut grass and jasmine, and she closed her eyes, letting it wrap around her. She swayed on her feet and opened her eyes. Get a grip, girl.

She tossed in the shirt and patted his pants pockets, hoping to find a wallet or phone or anything that could prove his identity to him. They were all empty. Did he really leave the fae realm empty-pocketed?

She poured in the detergent and set it to the quick-wash cycle when the doorbell rang.

“Shoot. The cakes.” She rushed downstairs and unlocked the front door to let Crimson inside. “I have them in the fridge. I just need to box them up.”

“No problem.” She followed Destiny through the storefront and into the kitchen. “I brought some of Mike’s clothes if he wants to change.”

“Thank you.” Destiny pulled a tray of mini angel food cakes from the fridge and added two dozen to a box.

“Mike is making his famous eggplant Napoleon.” Crimson laid the clothes on the counter and accepted the box. “See you in fifteen?”

“Gods willing.” She let her friend out the back door and returned upstairs.

The water shut off, so she padded down the hall and tapped on the door. “Pete? I’ve got some of Mike’s clothes for you to borrow until yours are ready.

The door swung open, and steam wafted into her face, blurring her vision for half a second. She blinked it back into focus, and this time, her mouth really did drop open. She snapped it shut and licked her lips, trying with all her might to keep her gaze on Pete’s face.

A lock of wet hair curled onto his forehead, and she tightened her grip on the clothes to stop herself from brushing it into place. She swallowed hard, and her traitorous gaze slid down all six feet of him.

Pecs, abs, a trail of soft hair disappearing into the towel wrapped around his waist. “Yum.”

He arched a brow. “Thanks?”

“Oh, dear lord. I don’t… I shouldn’t have…” She shoved the clothes against his chest and spun away. “I didn’t mean to say that.” Not out loud anyway.

“No worries.” He chuckled and clicked the door shut, and Destiny tipped her head toward the ceiling, wishing Gabriela would reach down and yank her into the repository. That file clerk job was looking better and better.

* * *

Pete put on the borrowed clothes and looked at himself in the mirror. The shirt fit okay, but the pants were too big in the waist. Shame they didn’t send over a belt too. He frowned at the sagging khakis, and his skin tingled with an odd magic.

He was used to the tingle that preceded the shift. When his rabbit wanted to take control, his entire body vibrated. This was different.

The tingle gathered in his abdomen, wrapping around to his back. He blinked twice, and suddenly, the pants fit as if they were tailored just for him. Odd, indeed.

He must have witch ancestry. There was no other explanation. Then again, witches generally had to cast spells or at least state their intention for their magic to work. His seemed to do its thing whenever it wanted to. Could he have fae blood? He didn’t feel anything within him except his rabbit, but it was obvious there was something other inside him.

Also obvious was his attraction to the angel waiting outside the doorway. She was beautiful, yes, but what he felt for her ran soul deep. He was there, with her, for a reason. Goddess knew what it was, but he couldn’t deny it.

She’s mine , his rabbit said in his mind. She’s my mate.

He sucked in a sharp breath as the word rang in his mind. How could that be? He’d known her all of twenty-four hours…or so he could recall. How could his animal figure out something that life-altering in a single day?

She’s the one , his rabbit said again. Was this Fate in action?

Everything happened for a reason, whether he could remember what it was or not. Sometimes the reason was nothing more than making a stupid decision, but it was a reason just the same. He’d done something that led him to the bakery last night. But the catalyst didn’t matter, did it? He was there now, and that mattered.

He brushed an errant lock of hair from his forehead and opened the door. Destiny wasn’t in the hallway, so he padded to the living room and found her perched on the edge of a pastel yellow chair, wringing her hands. Her anxiety was palpable, and he wanted nothing more than to take it away, to shoulder the burden for her.

The feeling was foreign to him, though. Was it because he couldn’t remember his past, or was it because he’d never felt such a connection to anyone in his life…because she was his mate?

“What can I do to help?” he asked.

Her jaw worked from side to side, and she pinned him with her blue-eyed gaze. “For starters, you can remember who you are.”

He inhaled deeply, holding her gaze until she looked away. She’d decorated her home in soft pastels. Paintings of flowers adorned the light gray walls, and a powder blue rug lay beneath her rose-colored sofa. The space felt welcoming, like home.

He sank onto the sofa adjacent to her chair and rested his hands on his knees. “What if I’m not supposed to remember? What if this is my chance to start over? To live in the moment because there’s nothing from my past holding me back. If the gods willed me to lose my?—”

She scoffed. “The gods didn’t give you amnesia. I did, and if I don’t fix it, my life is over.”

“You did.” His brow furrowed as he tried to recall what had happened. “I remember vampires, but I don’t know them. And you were there, but… I feel like you’ve always been there. I’ve always known you, haven’t I? We’re…”

“No.” She shook her head. “We met for the first time last night. The gods didn’t will this on you, believe me. I stupidly left a magical cake on the counter, you ate it, and it wiped your memory. You ran away before I could even attempt to help you, and now my magic has been stripped, but that doesn’t matter because I have no clue how to reverse what I’ve done.”

“Why…?” His mind spun with so many questions. Why was he there? Why did he eat a cake that wasn’t his? Why was her magic stripped?

If his rabbit was so certain of it, why did she not recognize him as her mate?

“You came to my bakery to meet Gaston. You do know him, from a long, long time ago. You needed his help with something. Do you remember what it was?”

There was that pleading look again, melting his heart even more. He closed his eyes, willing his brain to give him a shred of something, anything that would make her happy. “I’ve got nothing.”

“And I’ve only got two weeks to help you remember everything before I become human for good.”

“Why will you become human?”

She shook her head. “Performing miracles is the other aspect of my job in this realm, but it takes months to get them approved. Becoming human is my punishment if I don’t make it happen in the next two weeks, but this is a long story that we don’t have time for. We need to focus on getting your memories back.”

“Can you not ask your boss for help? Escalate it to a manager?”

She laughed dryly. “I tried. My boss is out to get me.”

“Maybe go over her head?”

“My boss’s boss is out to get me too. Angels aren’t supposed to make mistakes, and on the rare—or not so rare in my case—occasion that they do, they…I…have to fix it myself. Everything magical an angel can do is for the greater good or the good of the receiver, but I somehow manage to screw things up anyway.”

He drummed his fingers on his knees, a sense of resolve—of acceptance—settling in his chest. “There you go. You gave me amnesia for my own good.”

“Well, it sure as sugar isn’t for the greater good,” she mumbled.

“How do you know?”

“I just do.”

He nodded, scooting to the edge of his seat. “Can I tell you what I know?”

“That won’t take long.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. That was rude and not very angelic of me.”

“It’s okay. You’re stressed. I feel like I have that effect on people.” Why, he had no clue, but he was as certain as the fluff on his butt that he—or the way he acted—caused stress in other people’s lives, Destiny’s included.

She lifted her head from the chair and turned to him. “Tell me what you know.”

Mate , his rabbit said again in his mind. I get it, buddy, and I believe you. I feel it too. His throat thickened, a lump forming just above his Adam’s apple, and he swallowed hard. Destiny wasn’t a shifter, so he had to do this with finesse. To make her see they were meant to be without pushing her away. “I know you’re not as much of a mess as you claim to be.”

She laughed, but he held up a hand.

“I know you feel the need to be perfect.”

“I have to. It’s in my job description.”

“Then maybe you don’t have the right job. Perfection sounds about as fun as cleaning sand from your butt cheeks, and this so-called Hot Mess Express…” He gestured to her. “I find her intriguing. I believe…I know I’m here with you for a reason. I know Destiny isn’t just your name. It’s what you are to me. You, Destiny, are my destiny.”

“Well, I…” She clamped her mouth shut and tilted her head. “Don’t be silly. I promise you’ve only known me for a day.”

“Then a day is all I needed. You’re supposed to be in my life. Shifters always know when…” The look of unease on her face stopped him from finishing, and he shrugged, attempting to downplay his words. “Or maybe that’s the amnesia talking.”

So much for finesse. He’d gone too far. The soul-deep connection he felt with her wasn’t reciprocated yet, and he should have sensed that.

She held his gaze for a beat or two before rising to her feet. “We shouldn’t keep Crimson and Mike waiting. Let’s go eat.”

Mate , his rabbit insisted. You have to be patient, buddy. Winning her heart is going to take some time.