“What is it with that jacket?” asked Tim, when they were back at the apartment.
Ace looked at him and tried to smile. “Four bought it for me three years ago. It was supposed to be my birthday present but she couldn’t let go of it. She’s been promising to give it to me for so long that it became a standing joke. Everyone knows the story. She loved that jacket and I loved that she did.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I have to get in touch with some people.”
Tim nodded, picked up the book he had been reading earlier, went into the bedroom and closed the door. Ace sat on the couch and bit her lip until she tasted blood and the pain she was feeling faded enough that she could speak.
She called the Aces, Kings, Queens, the War Room and the Ten of Spades. When she finally hung up, she went into the bedroom.
“Take off your clothes,” she said to Tim, who immediately started to undress. “Now lay on your stomach.”
Ace straddled him, pulled out a magic marker and started outlining his scars.
“Hey, what are you doing? asked Tim, trying to roll over.
“Don’t even think about it,” she growled.
“If you want to know something, why don’t you ask?” he said flatly.
“I did ask.”
“You can ask a question more than once,” he said.
When she was finished she drew the outlines on a piece of graph paper. “Nephilim?”
“Really? That’s what you think?” he said, trying to shake his head. “Get off of me, please.”
“What are you?”
“I’m a man. What are you?”
“You have to leave now,” said Ace softly, placing the paper in the drawer next to the bed.
“Why, because you’re disappointed that I’m not a unicorn, or an angel.”
“No. I’m disappointed because you’re a liar.”