Destiny strode behind the counter and opened her laptop. The keys clicked at lightning speed beneath her fingers as she filled out the miracle request form. She hit enter and closed the computer. “We’vegot this.”
“How can I help?” Jane asked.
She activated her glamour, hiding her wings and halo. “First things first. We have to find Pete.”
CHAPTERFIVE
What in Odin’s name?Pete hunkered down beneath a bush outside a two-story brick house with white columns and green shutters. A chill hung in the night air, making his fur stand on end, but the cold didn’t stop the mass of people from gathering along the street as a parade of lights, colors, and festive sounds rolled by.
A marching band stopped in front of him to break it down to a funky drum beat while masked women atop a double-decker float covered in flowers threw beads and plastic doubloons to the spectators below.
He’d somehow ended up in New Orleans. That much was obvious from the architecture and revelry.Howhe’d gotten there, he had no clue. Had he come with friends for a vacation? If so, where were they?Whowere they?
Definitely not the vampires in the bakery. He’d never seen those two in his life. The angel, though…
His body had reacted to her in a way his mind couldn’t comprehend. It felt as if he knew her…or he was supposed to know her. More than that, though, it felt as if he were there in that bakeryforher.
He wrinkled his nose, wiggling his whiskers and backing deeper into the bush. He didn’t know his head from his fuzzy ass at the moment, so how could he possibly believe he’d come all the way to New Orleans to meet an angel?
And all the way from where?
At the moment, it didn’t matter. His head throbbed, his eyes watered, and if his stomach didn’t stop lurching, he was sure to hack up whatever he’d eaten in the angel’s bakery. What had she called it? Demon cake?
No, it was probably devil’s food cake.
He closed his eyes and wiped away the moisture with his paw. With the way things were going, it would be his luck to wake up with them crusted shut.
A rustling in the bushes made his ears twitch. He flared his nostrils, breathing deeply and nearly choking on the stench of cat pee. A tomcat lurked somewhere in the row of hedges where Pete was hiding, and it had just sprayed a fence seconds before he decided to take a big breath.Gross.
He flattened his ears against his body and froze to assess his choices. If the cat caught him in his current state, he’d become a gourmet dinner for the feline. He could turn tail and run before it found him, but he had no idea how fast the creature could sprint. His other option would be to shift into his human form and walk away.
A low growl emanated from the third bush to his left, and his heart took off in a sprint. His legs should have followed suit, but he remained frozen to the spot, his gaze darting back and forth as the cat prowled closer.
The house had cameras covering the entire front porch and yard. If he shifted right there in the bushes, they’d have his face on film and an arrest warrant issued before sunrise. He’d never recover his memory sitting in a jail cell, and that meant flight was the only viable option.
Now if he could just get his feet to move.
The cat made a deep mewling sound, and as a spotlight from a parade float flashed toward them, its eyes glowed green. Pete’s foot thumped twice before his muscles obeyed the command from his brain.
He shot out of the bush faster than a greased pig at a livestock auction and high-tailed it across the yard. The cat gave chase, darting after him as he hung a right on the next street. The frigging houses had cameras on every corner, making it impossible for him to shift, so he hopped as fast as he could toward the cemetery in the distance.
He dared a peek over his shoulder, but the cat had vanished. Slowing his pace, he clung to the shadows, listening, breathing, searching for signs of his would-be attacker.
“Aw! A kitty!” A woman stumbled down the street, and Pete scooted closer to the building. “Here kitty, kitty.”
She stepped into the side yard, but her friend grabbed her wrist. “You can’t go into people’s gardens, Sam.”
Pete glanced at where the woman gestured and found the cat perched on a windowsill. It narrowed its eyes, its fur standing in a ridge along its back as it hissed and darted away.
Relief made Pete’s breath come out in a rush, and he continued his trek toward the cemetery. He made it inside the gates and found an empty flower urn to hide in. Snuggling inside, he closed his eyes and willed the pounding in his head to stop.
He had nowhere to go and no money to rent a room, so he stayed in rabbit form and settled in for the night. Maybe tomorrow his headache would ease and he could think straight. Maybe he’d wake up and remember who he was.
The Easter Bunny, my fluffy, brown ass.He blew out a hard breath and closed his eyes.
Soft morning sunlight painted the back of his eyelids red, and he blinked them open, peeking his head out of the urn. Rows and rows of above-ground tombs extended from the foggy earth. Some of them sported white stucco with urns filled with fake flowers while others stood crumbling, years of neglect washing away the paint, revealing the brick and mortar beneath.
He shivered, the chilly air making his fur stand on end, and he stood on his hind legs, resting his front paws on the rim of the urn. His ears twitched, turning this way and that, as he listened for signs of predators.
