Page 17 of Angel's Vengeance

Rhode shook his head, hating that another charmer had again owned intelligence over him.But it didn’t need to be that way any longer, did it?Not truly.As he turned Iron’s words over in his head, analyzing them for traps and pitfalls, a new course of action started to crystalize.

Iron was right in his methodology.If Rhode could reach the relic in time, itwouldgive them a way back to the Empyrean, a place the other sentinels had not seen since they’d enacted the Sealing, which closed off the realm’s gates to Cyro’s advancing armies, as well as themselves, and fell to the mortal realm.

But Rhode was never going back home.He’d been barred from that avenue long ago after he’d been captured.Most nights, he doubted he was even an angel anymore, let alone one who would be welcome to walk among the court of celestial mages and the other beings of the Empyrean.

No, his was a different path, one that would only ever be a one-way trip.After all, vengeance didn’t burn that hot without a reason, and once it erupted around its intended target, there was never anything left to salvage, including the one who detonated it.

Rhode slid the bottle back to Iron and stood.“I don’t know how she recognized me, but I intend to find out before I make her take me to Cyro.”

Chapter9

Neela had heard about thread counts.There was some sort of metric associated with them, right?The higher, the better if she had to guess, but how high was the best?As she extended her arms above her and stretched every muscle to the farthest reaches of Molly’s guest bed, she figured the sheets surrounding her had to be somewhere north of average but just shy of too-fancy-to-be-comfortable.Whatever they were, they freaking rocked.

God, she’d miss this.For however long she had left in this bed, she’d take meticulous mental notes on not only the sheets but every mortal marvel around her—of which there were many.

The modest guest room was nowhere near as large as she’d seen other mortal content creators lounge around in.Often, they had king-size beds, walk-in closets, attached full bathrooms, and more sunlight than she’d ever seen in her life.

Not that she’d seen much.

But this—thiswas a bedroom she could melt into and surround with no shortage of sun-loving and completely pot-friendly plants.The fresh morning rays pouring in through the window left no amount of bookshelf unkissed.She smiled, mentally replacing every cookbook tome weighing down the particleboard with imaginary pots of early spring violets and pansies that would do just fine if she kept the temperature right.Or maybe even a bit of lavender.

The fantasy was the warm hug that gave her the courage to finally straighten her spine and crawl out of bed.A glance at the alarm clock told her she had roughly ten hours of daylight on her side before she had to worry about her sire sending any more charmers after her.

And he would.There was no question about that.

“Up and at ‘em, lazy girl.”

By the time she was dressed in her clothes from the day before and had tamed her hair enough to the point of a well-conditioned lion’s mane, she made her way out to the living room and nearly slammed into the back of the loveseat in front of her.Or, more accurately, nearly flipped over the cushions and sucked face with the buttery leatherette.

Across the living room, another set of couch cushions cried out in protest as they struggled to support the massive bulk of Iron and Rhode, who’d just been handed coffee by Molly.Brass, meanwhile, stood in front of the door, sipping from a travel mug and acting for all the world like one warning look from him was enough to keep anything and everything on the other side of said door.

But it was Rhode who stole the immediate words from her throat.

He was the first to stand but not the first to address her.

Crap.

Somehow, in the morning light, everything about him seemed so different, almost foreign, as if he didn’t so much as move through the sunlight but ratheritmoved aroundhim.The effect was beyond eerie and so ...wrong.His stance, his movements, none of them fit his powerful frame comfortably, and she wondered whether, like her, he was far more comfortable draped in shadows than sunlight.

“Hey!Did you sleep okay?”Molly rushed out of the kitchen, a piping-hot mug declaringDon’t forget, it all started with Smurfettein one hand and a bottle of some indiscernible dairy product in the other.

“Yeah, it was amazing.Thank you.”

“I’m so glad.And you know what else I’m so glad about?”Molly cast the stink eye to end all stink eyes in Rhode’s direction.“That Brass hasassuredme Rhode won’t go destroying any more of my stuff if I let him talk to you while my mate drives me to work.Right, honey?”

The auburn-haired angel’s stiff nod spoke volumes.

“Good.You’re all lucky it’s Monday and we’re closed to customers today.I’ve got a bunch of stuff to prep for tomorrow and, apparently, new chairs and glasses to order.”Then she leveled her finger at Rhode.“I’m serious.You’re still on the hook for that furniture.”

“Understood,” Rhode agreed.

“Wonderful.Neela, Brass will be back in about twenty minutes, and then he can help get you anything else you might need.Clothes, food, what have you.”

“Um.Thanks.Sure.”

The front door snicked closed about a nanosecond before whatever interrogation she was apparently in for began.Great.She hadn’t even gotten one cup of coffee in her yet, and from the sour pusses on the angels’ faces, she’d need a whole lot more than the drip stuff to get her through whatever she’d just been set up to deal with.

Because no matter what they had to say to her, it most certainly would be something that needed to bedealt with.

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