Page 79 of Priest

Pulling out his phone, he tapped on it a few times, then handed it over to Priest. Oliver hovered over him to watch, and together, they saw a grainy, black-and-white image of a tall man with dark hair in tattered clothes and glasses with bent rims dragged past a doorway.

“That sort of looks like him,” Priest says, handing the phone back.

Remi nodded miserably. “I’m a thousand percent sure it’s him. But I don’t understand how. He should be able to crush them.”

“Yeah, but they had something that brought me and Priest to our knees,” Jeremiah said, running his nose along Remi’s hairline. “So it’s safe to say they might have had a weapon that could work against him too.”

Priest sat forward and smiled grimly as Oliver began to rub his lower back. “So we know they have him. Now we just have to figure out where he is and get him back. Any ideas?”

Oliver tapped him gently. “Azriel and I are both Angels. Well… I’m part Angel. I managed to find Poe, and he’s stronger than me, and he could feel the power in me. So maybe if we have somewhere to start, he and I can work together to get some kind of location.”

“It’s as good a plan as any,” Jeremiah said. “Will Azriel be willing?”

“All we can do is ask. He promised to call me soon,” Oliver said. “As soon as Poe is ready to see other people.”

Priest hated the plan. He hated it because it put Oliver front and center, but he also knew that his beloved little human wouldn’t have it any other way. Besides, this was all of their fight now. “I can send him a text, but right now, I think all we can do is wait and see if?—”

“This is him,” Oliver said, cutting Priest off. He was holding his phone. “He must have sensed I needed him.”

Jeremiah looked at Priest, who nodded. “Take it. Make the plan to see him. At this point, I don’t think we have any other choice.”

EPILOGUE

OLIVER

“H

oney, I’m home.”

Oliver toed off his shoes and hung up his jacket, more tired than he’d even been after nearly getting blown all to hell. Working his new Angelic abilities for hours alongside Azriel was draining for him in a way he wasn’t used to, but they were making progress.

He hoped.

It was hard to tell most days, but Azriel seemed satisfied with what they were accomplishing.

He knew the rest of the Agency was trying to hunt down other leads on where Oz could be or the location of any other lab compounds. Each day, he went to Azriel’s, and Priest went to HQ or out to run down a possible lead with Knight, Slate, or Storm.

Priest had texted him an hour ago to say he was home for the day and making dinner. Oliver smiled to himself, warmth filling him. Things were still chaotic and scary, but in their home—because Priest had insisted it was both of theirs now that they were mated—away from the bigotry and hatred and threats, it was peaceful. Domestic.

He padded through the house, smiling when he entered the kitchen and found his sweet Demon stirring a large pot of something that smelled divine, wearing an apron that saidTongue-fuck the cook.

Which he planned on doing, after he ate.

“Hey,” Priest said, smiling as he set his spoon aside and stepped around the kitchen island. “You look a little tired, love.”

“I’m a lot tired, so I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Priest frowned, not appreciating his joke.

“I’m okay.” He stepped up into his mate’s space and tipped his face up, silently asking for a kiss. He got one, of course.

Priest devoured his mouth, acting like he hadn’t seen Oliver for weeks instead of hours. Not that he minded. Sighing, he wrapped his arms around his Demon’s shoulders and held on to his hair, opening for Priest’s flickering tongue.

After several molasses-thick minutes, Priest raised his head, running his thumb along Oliver’s lower lip. His eyes were black as sin, a match to Oliver’s new irises.

“Did you see him today?”

Oliver’s heart twisted in his chest as he shook his head. “Not today.”

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