And the light faded from the room.
“It is done,” Mama Matisse said.
And it was.
That evening, the kids headed out for a night on Bourbon Street.
Angela and Jackson did not.
They played in the rooftop pool for a while, and they enjoyed the carousel bar, and they dined on delicious room service. Jackson told Angela the story of his first strange encounter when he was a child, and he talked about taking her to Scotland. He talked about the guilt he couldn’t help but feel over the loss of the members of his previous team, and she felt that she’d shared more of him than anyone had before. He had shared his heart and soul, and he had done so much to mend hers.
They teased, laughed, grew serious, made passionate love.
And then, early in the morning, Jackson’s phone rang.
He answered it. Angela listened lazily, half-awake.
“Who was that?” she asked when Jackson hung up.
“Adam Harrison,” he said slowly, looking over at her. “We’ve gotten our next assignment,” he said.
“Oh?” she asked.
But he took her into his arms.
“We don’t start until tomorrow,” he said, and he gave her a dazzling smile. She grinned slowly in return, and then she kissed him. Today, they were going to exercise a few of the amazing joys that came with being alive.
