Page 1 of Under His Wings

Chapter 1

When I entered the club, my attention was immediately captured by the faint aura of light. An angel was here, blending in with the humans as if beings like us were the same as that pathetic rabble. I scooted closer and caught a glimpse of curly blond hair, almost white in its brightness. The pale locks crowned a soft face adorned with a smile.

Ugh, this guy was like a poster child for a stereotypical Christian idea of an angel.

...not like I had a leg to stand on, seeing as I went with a classic black and red attire, the clothes fitting me like a second skin.

Alright, so we were both on brand. I itched to go over there and start a conversation, but I knew it was a bad idea. There were so few fights between angels and demons on Earth precisely because we tried to avoid each other. It was the responsible thing to do yadda, yadda, and, even if demons didn’t do the whole ‘moral obligation’ thing, we did do contracts, so I couldn’t just start shit without a good reason and flaunt the rules.

I was going to leave the angel alone, but he turned around and looked straight at me. Those baby blue eyes stared at me and when he tilted his head, I found my legs carrying me over to him without my conscious decision. Seeing as I unwittingly made the first move, I decided there was no stopping it; I had to continue if I didn’t want to look like a fool. Retreat wasn’t an option. I power-walked to the angel. Feeling the confident steps of my body settled my mind well enough I could gather my wits to start the conversation properly.

“Are you a parking ticket? Cause you’ve got ‘fine’ written all over you,” I drawled shamelessly.

The heaveners often got so indignant when I flirted with them, so I truly couldn’t help myself.

“Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?” the angel deadpanned back at me.

I jolted back as if struck.

Yes, it fucking did! That was a very mean question!

I frowned at the angel and saw a smirk on his lips. Ooh, the fucker had done it on purpose. It wasn’t just the case of reaching for one of the most often used pickup lines; he wanted to hit where it hurt.

Well, this night just got interesting.

“The name’s Hellion. What’s yours, sweetheart?” I asked with an eager twinkle in my eye.

“Definitely not ‘sweetheart’. But I will allow you to call me Zach.”

“Zachariel, when we are alone?” I raised my brow suggestively, guessing at his angelic name.

“Only if you earn it,” the angel shot back.

I noticed he didn’t bristle at the idea of us being alone, as many of his kind would. And earning something from an angel was quite a temptation...

“Alright, I will bite. What do I have to do to earn it?”

As long as it wasn’t something disgusting like holding babies, or boring like helping old people cross the street, I was game.

“I came here to find entertainment.” He tossed his blond curls back and pierced me with his eyes. “Entertain me.”

Something hot squirmed in my stomach and my breath may have caught a little.

“Right,” I coughed into my fist, suddenly frustrated. All the funny puns and interesting pickup lines vanished from my mind when I needed them the most, so instead I clapped my hands and declared: “Let’s dance!”

Zach smiled, and his hand closed around my wrist, leading me onto the dance floor.

I stared a bit dumbly at the slender digits circling my wrist as I followed. I couldn’t remember another angel ever touching me so freely. Sure, I had a few romps in bed with the other side (it was almost a rite of passage for a demon to successfully seduce an angel), but there were clear expectations and purposeful erotic touches, not this... casual skin contact. It was unnecessary to touch me, yet he chose to do so. Somehow, that initial touch was more intimate than our hands meeting together when we started to dance.

After a few songs passed, I had to admit the angel had moves. I expected a more conservative dance, but he answered the grinding of my body against his with a dirty little shimmy of his hips and he didn’t hesitate to place his hands on my spine, on my ass, on my neck.

Shit. I was getting hard.

When the song ended, I took a step away and ran a hand through my hair.

“How about a choreographed dance?” was my cheerful suggestion. I was going to make a fool of myself if we didn’t put some distance between ourselves.

“I know an interesting one. Let me teach you,” the angel offered.

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