Page 26 of Wicked Angel
“Maybe we should go somewhere else,” I suggested one evening as we cooked dinner together in Levi's kitchen. He was chopping vegetables with quick, precise movements while I stirred a pot of pasta sauce. “Somewhere with better access to information.”
Levi glanced at me, his expression thoughtful. “Where exactly?”
I shrugged, frustrated by my own restlessness. “I don’t know. Maybe the Great Eternity Hall. Anywhere might be better than just sitting here, waiting.”
“We're not just sitting around,” Levi pointed out, sliding the chopped vegetables into a pan where they sizzled in hot oil. “We're preparing. Getting stronger. And the Hall hasn't exactly been a wellspring of useful information lately.”
He was right, of course. We'd visited the Hall every day, spending hours combing through ancient tomes and scrolls, searching for any mention of the Scarlet Hex Dagger or alternative ways to enter Elysium. But each visit ended the same way—with more questions than answers, and a growing sense that we were running out of time.
“I know,” I sighed, setting the wooden spoon aside. “I just feel like we're missing something important. Like the answer is right in front of us, but we can't see it.”
Levi moved behind me, his hands settling on my shoulders, kneading the tension away. “Relax, sweetheart.”
“Easier said than done.” I leaned back against him, drawing comfort from his warmth. “I just wish Ezekiel would contact us. What if something happened to him?”
“He's smart, he's careful,” Levi said, his voice steady and reassuring. “And if he can't get to us, we'll find another way.”
I turned in his arms, looking up at him. “Does being a higher demon incur sudden increasing wisdom?”
A smirk tugged at his lips. “Ha, I wish.”
I laughed, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. “Right? If that was a thing, I would love to learn it.”
“Now,” he said, stepping back to check on the vegetables, “are we going to eat, or keep talking about depressing scenarios all night?”
When the food was ready, we sat down on the long, glass table, Levi at the head, and me on his right side.
I frowned as I served myself. “Hopefully this isn’t depressing scenarios or subject, but … what about your business? From before you met me? All of your demon related dealings, and the wishes, and whatever else you did?” I honestly didn’t know exactly what he did before, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. “How’s that going?”
He stared at me, his dark eyes gleaming. “Well, since you asked, I should tell you that since you saved me from being a mindless demon, I lost the connection with the wishing book.”
My mouth fell open. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“We had plenty on our plates with your death, the foreign magic, Rhodes, and Elysium.” He shook his head. “It never seemed like the right time, and it isn’t important.”
“Of course it is important,” I said, still shocked. “That’s a good thing, right?”
He nodded. “Mostly. I don’t have an advantage now when I want a favor or knowledge, but those days are behind me.”
“What do you mean?”
He reached across the table and took my hand in his. “I don’t want to live that life anymore, sweetheart. I say, after all of this is done, we take my fortune and retreat to Maldives or Bora Bora.”
My chest expanded with such a powerful feeling. Here was a higher demon who had been in the morally gray space for most of his life, and he was telling me he was ready to abandon everything—that he already had!—to live a quiet life with me.
I didn’t know what to say. The words escaped me and if I tried saying anything, I would babble like a kid with a new toy, or I would choke.
So instead I squeezed his hand and ate dinner.
After, we curled up on Levi's couch to watch a movie—some action thriller that was more explosion than plot. But even though I tried, I couldn’t really pay attention. My thoughts kept drifting back to Elysium, to Rhodes, to my family. I wondered if my mother was worried about me. If Adriel still believed I was a traitor. The thought made my chest ache.
“You're thinking too loudly again,” Levi murmured, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my arm.
I smiled faintly. “Sorry. Occupational hazard of being me, I guess.”
“Want to talk about it?”
I considered for a moment, then shook my head. “Not really. Just the usual doom and gloom.”
