Page 69 of The Angel in Her

ZAQIEL

A few months was needed, and it was longer than I wanted to wait, but it was necessary. Too soon and the link between what Paul did to Evie and his death would’ve been much too apparent. Besides, I had done my research, and the man was working his way toward being a state politician. I had to get to him now before he became untouchable.

I was doing the world a favor anyway. He wasn’t the sort of person who should be in any position of power. Frankly, with the money he had now, was already too much.

Evie didn’t ask where I was going, and I didn’t tell.

Technically, I tried to tell myself, this wasn’t lying to her. I’d tell her what I had done, the role I had to playafterit was done. Only after she had seen it on the news.

All these thoughts and plans, but there was one big problem.

Angels couldn’t kill humans.

Sure, we were more than capable of it, physically they were no threat to us, but there’d be no tolerance for that sort of thing from the Silver City. There were rules that had to be abided by, and murder would be a one-way ticket to being one of the fallen.

Rule number one—no killing humans. Pretty straightforward.

But there were ways around these things.

My siblings weren’t stupid, and it wouldn’t take much to figure out what I had done. But they had been on Earth long enough now to see the darkness that was around and to know sometimes it was a choice of the lesser of two evils.

At least, I hoped they viewed it this way.

But if this meant I was stripped of my wings, I could handle that, knowing my last act was to rid the Earth of a man who didn’t deserve the miracle of life that had been granted to him. I’d live out the rest of my days, mortal, with Evie. I had come to peace with that.

I hadn’t called ahead and simply landed on the balcony of the penthouse apartment, pushing the handle so hard the lock snapped, and I was granted access into the spacious dwelling.

Frank was busy fucking somebody.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Frank,” I said, turning my back as I folded up my wings. His slacks were pooled around his ankles, standing in the middle of the apartment with a woman balanced on his forearms. Thrusting up into her, she clutched onto his shoulders, her skirt yanked up over her waist and shirt ripped open, one heel on the floor nearby and the other dangling from her toes.

“Your fault for not knocking, angel boy.” He panted over the slapping sound of their bodies meeting.

Trust him not to stop.

“Frank,” the woman whispered between moans. “Who is that?”

“Nobody. Don’t worry about it, pet.”

“I’ll be outside,” I muttered as the distinct sound of kissing joined the moans as they continued. Pulling the door closed behind me, I sat on one of the lounge chairs on the balcony, looking out over the lights of the city. From up here, it was hard to imagine all the things that were going on at the other end of this vast cityscape. The sound of traffic was barely audible from this high up, even for me, and the breeze held a pleasant chill. I could see why the demons sought out this sort of living space, so far removed from where they came from.

Angels came from luxury and divinity in our homes and came to Earth to help those who needed it, having to rapidly adapt to the drastic change between environments. But demons didn’t have such noble causes for leaving their home.

Still, they weren’t all bad.

Not entirely.

Forty minutes later, I heard the door open. Frank paused when he looked at the lock and tossed me a look of distaste. He had pulled his pants back up but was still shirtless and had lost the shoes and socks. His body glistened with sweat, and from the smell of it, other bodily fluids. As he sat next to me, he handed me a glass of whiskey, which I accepted, staring out at the view again.

“Another one of your conquests, I’m guessing,” I said. When he growled at me, I glanced at him, my eyebrows shooting up as he ran a hand through his dark hair, longer than when I last saw him. I sniffed the air, tuning my senses into him, and his snarl deepened. “You bonded with her.” It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyway. “Wow, congratulations.”

“Thanks,” he said gruffly, taking a sip of his drink. “What are you doing here, Zaqiel?”

“I have a favor to ask.”

“Oh?” I could hear the smirk in his voice without having to face him.

“I need you to kill someone.”

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