Page 59 of Angel's Vengeance

“I am a spy,” he said by way of explanation.

“And I am a demon.”

“Yes.But you aremydemon, and I’ll always protect what’s mine.Always.”

Always ...

Achingly private memories of her harboring that similar sentiment misted her eyes.She’d once thought such a thing might be possible between them, when he was no more than a tortured prisoner and she a pathetic charmer who’d foolishly hoped that she alone could save them from the hell they’d been confined to.

It was a different time, though.She knew that now.And this, whateverthiswas between them, had turned out to give her far morealwaysthan the frazzled fabrications a desperate caregiver could ever hope to offer.

Some parts of the past served no purpose traveling into the future.So no, she didn’t need to dredge up anything, not for him.He’d gone through enough, and for that matter, so had she.

His words should have pleased her, but instead, they only made her sadder.Rhode had once thought the same thing of Chrome, that the intelligence master was his to protect, and in the end, he’d suffered irrevocably for it.

She’d never ask him to suffer again, but she didn’t see a way out of stopping Cyro otherwise.

So she said nothing.Neither of them did.And as the plates were cleared around them, Neela finally broke from Rhode’s embrace to help with the dishes.But when she’d glanced down at where she’d been sitting, an unexpected gift teased a smile from her.

Two untouched slices of Iron’s turkey bacon.

Chapter29

The bowling alley was a surprise.Not the fact that Rhode would find Chrome there but that the facility in question wasn’t the one Tammy worked for as a marketing manager.That place was a frequent and familiar haunt for the angels, with the owner even going so far as to provide the guys with a private billiard room and a bartender whenever they attended.

But no, this place was ...Well, he’d go withdifferent.

Rhode ducked his head beneath the rusted bell dangling above him, careful to avoid the chipping paint along the door trim, and immediately understood why the bell was there.

The place wasn’t so much a bowling alley as it was a nearly abandoned relic of time.The lights were on, yes, but for the most part, signs of life stopped there.The dark green low-pile carpet blanketing the welcome area had worn down to the mesh in spots from decades of being trampled beneath scuffed soles.A small arcade sat in muted illumination off to the side and was the furthest cry from the joyful theming he’d delighted in showing Neela at the amusement park.The setup was as sad as they came, with crane games filled with stuffed animals that had sat in the same position so long the overhead lights had begun to mute their colors.Of the remaining games, one racing and one shooting, both sported a glowing orange coin slot that still demanded twenty-five cents, even though the change machine next to them sat caked in dust, with a hand-written yellowedout of ordersign taped to it.

“Can I help you?”A young man with an alpaca’s worth of hair hanging over his eyes didn’t look up from his phone but sank onto his forearms above a front desk that had seen more chrome than customers.The only indication that the man had addressed Rhode at all came from the deliberate pause after the question.The beige name tag identified the boy asTrainee.

“You work here, I take it?”

The boy snorted.“For, like, another three days.Then my winter break’s over and I go back to school.”

A college student.Lovely.“I’m looking for someone.”

A quick eye flick was all Rhode got before the attendant’s attention settled back on his phone.“Yeah, I bet you are.Dude’s over there.”His mop of hair was flung wide and waved Rhode toward the far end of the bowling alley.“Friend or something?”

“Or something.”

The boy nodded, as if he was either used to noncommittal answers or didn’t care what the answers were in general.“When you go over there, just know that your boy’s grumpy as hell because I told him we weren’t allowed to serve beer at ten in the morning.Whatever.”The kid shook his head and finally looked at Rhode for more than a blink, though it was with the penetrating boredom of a generation forced to go through the motions rather than make waves.“You need shoes?”

“No.Thank you.”

“Cool.”

Rhode didn’t stick around to no doubt see the relief on the kid’s face at not having to perform a task he was hired for.Instead, the seraph made a beeline for the sole lane that was actively having bowling balls thunder down its ramp.

Chrome was by the ball return, staring down the conveyor’s chute as if he was expecting it to offer some sort of retribution in the form of polished resin.Rhode waited for Chrome to acknowledge him, for there was no question the angel knew he was there.

Knew he was there and still didn’t want anything to do with him.

Chrome’s hunter-green ball popped out of the conveyor, but the angel didn’t grab it.He just stood there, back to Rhode, with his head bent toward the ball.

Rhode shifted on his feet.“I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to throw that at me.”