Finale

Scott and I walked around the bar, stepped behind a privacy screen, and lifted our arms. I went first, enduring a brief, cursory pat-down. The bartender
moved to Scott, brushing down his inseams and patting under his arms and across his back. It was dim behind the bar, and even though Scott had worn a thick cotton shirt, I thought I saw the whip
glow faintly through it. The bartender seemed to see it too. His eyebrows pulled together, and he reached for Scott’s shirt.
    I dropped my handbag at his feet. Several hundred-dollar bills spilled out. Just like that, the bartender’s attention was drawn to the money. “Oops,” I said, feigning a flirty
smile as I swept the bills back inside. “This cash is burning a hole. Ready to play, hot stuff?”
    Hot stuff?
Scott echoed to my thoughts.
Nice.
He grinned and leaned down to kiss me, hard, on the mouth. I was so surprised by this, I froze at his touch.
    Relax,
he spoke to my mind.
We’re almost in.
    I gave a nearly imperceptible nod. “You’re going to win big tonight, babe, I can feel it,” I crooned.
    The bartender unlocked a big steel door, and grasping Scott’s hand, I followed him down a dark, uninviting staircase that smelled of mildew and standing water. At the bottom, we followed a
hallway around several bends, until we came out in an open space sparsely decorated with poker tables. A single Mason-jar-turned-pendant hung above each table, shedding minimal light. No music, no
drinks, no warm, friendly welcome.
    One table was in use—four players—and I instantly spotted Pepper. He had his back to us, and he didn’t turn at our approach. Not unusual. None of the other players glanced at
us either. They were all tuned intently to the cards in their hands. Poker chips stood in neat towers at the center of the table. I had no idea how much money was involved, but I was betting those
who lost would feel it, and deeply.
    “We’re looking for Pepper Friberg,” Scott announced. He kept his tone light, but the way his muscles bulged when he crossed his arms sent a different message.
    “Sorry, sweetheart, my dance card’s full for the night,” Pepper shot back cynically, brooding over the hand he’d been dealt. I studied him closely, thinking he was much
too involved in the game for this to be a cover. In fact, he was so sucked in, he’d apparently completely missed that I stood beside Scott.
    Scott snagged a chair from a nearby table and made room for it right next to Pepper. “I’ve got two left feet anyway. You’d be better off dancing with . . . Nora
Grey.”
    Now Pepper reacted. He set his cards facedown, turning that round, full body of his to see me for himself.
    “Hello, Pepper. It’s been a while,” I said. “The last time we met up, you tried to kidnap me, isn’t that right?”
    “Kidnapping is a federal offense for us Earth dwellers,” Scott chimed in. “Something tells me it’s frowned on in heaven, too.”
    “Keep your voice down,” Pepper growled, nervously eyeing the other players.
    I swept my eyebrows up, speaking directly to Pepper’s thoughts.
You haven’t told your human friends what you really are? Although I don’t suppose they’d be too happy
to learn that your poker skills have a lot more to do with mind-compulsion than luck or skill.
    “Let’s take this outside,” Pepper told me, folding from the game.
    “Up you go,” Scott said, hoisting him up by the elbow.
    In the alley behind the Devil’s Handbag, I spoke first. “We’re going to make this simple for you, Pepper. As fun as it’s been having you use me to get to Patch, I’m
ready to move on. The way I figure it, that’s only going to happen if I find out who’s really blackmailing you,” I said, testing him. I wanted to tell him my theory: that he was
playing errand boy for a secret group of archangels and needed a half-decent excuse to send Patch to hell. But in the name of playing it safe, I decided to hold off and see how this shook out.
    Pepper squinted at me, his features as disgruntled as they were skeptical. “What’s this about?”
    “Which is where we come in,” Scott chimed in. “We’re motivated to find your blackmailer.”
    Pepper narrowed his eyes further at Scott. “Who are you?”
    “Think of me as the ticking bomb under your seat. If you don’t make a decision to agree to Nora’s terms, I’ll make it for you.” Scott started rolling up his
sleeves.
    “Are you threatening me?” Pepper asked