Page 60 of Dark Angel

Despite Tate’s betrayal only increasing my distrust in demons, the demons that were on the payroll, I kept on board.Better the devil you knowand all of thatkeep your enemies close.Besides, they were fairly low on the food chain—grunt workers, muscle—paid to do all the shit I didn’t want to deal with but they enjoyed. They came and went as they pleased between Hell and Earth, and I didn’t care as long as they were there when I needed them, and they kept coming back because I provided them with an outlet for their demonic desires.

Tate was correct—I had taken over this business in a fit of rage and made most things up as I went along. There were a lot of holes in my business plan, some of them had been exploited already, and others were open for the taking. But not anymore. I employed Sven to step up and use his previous experience—things that came up in the background check, a history in security services before he was caught using the company information to rob and kill—to find potential security issues and fix them. Tate had helped me more by attempting to bring me down than he had directly over the years he was with me.

He should have killed me rather than attempting to destroy trust in me.

Fucking prick.

Whatever, while I knew he’d be back, I’d deal with him when that time came around. Or perhaps I’d seek him out myself, get to him before he had a chance to rally too much support. There was no shortage of enemies out there who would move against me given the chance. But for now, we were busy claiming insurance on the destroyed buildings, rebuilding those I wanted to save, and reworking any issues that could lead to another attempt to bring me down. All of this took longer than it should have. Of course, the buildings weren’t directly in my name, that would be foolish, but they were twisted up in entities and trusts.

Tate had offered me a valuable commodity—time to fix my mistakes.

I couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing with this time in return before he came back to finish our unsettled business.

Cara still wanted to work the floor because she said that sitting around while I took care of business wasn’t her style.

“Cara!”

My knuckles gripped the bar on the balcony as I leaned over the edge, my eyes sweeping the floor behind the dark sunglasses. Some asshole had just tried to slide a tip into the side of her skirt, and to save myself from ripping his arms from his body, I needed to get her to come to me.

Besides, I had a visitor I needed her to meet.

“You don’t need to yell at her like that,” Zaqiel said calmly.

“Fuck off, she’s mine. I can talk to her how I want.”

His face darkened. “You can’towna person, Emrick.”

Cara appeared at the doorway at the top of the stairs, and I stormed over to her, grabbing the front of her skirt and yanking her to me. Kissing my way up her neck before devouring her mouth, I pulled away from the kiss and finished by tugging on her bottom lip with my teeth. She stood there with her eyes closed and head tilted up toward me.

“Who owns you, pussycat?” I asked.

“You do,” she whispered.

Turning back to Zaqiel, I smirked as he rolled his eyes, turning away from the display. Grabbing Cara’s arm, I steered her toward the couch. “I have someone for you to meet.” Indicating to Zaqiel, who stood and shook Cara’s hand, I said, “This is Zaqiel, my brother, who still hasn’t told me why he’s here after over ten fucking years.”

Cara’s brows shot up. “Well, that’s… quite the introduction.”

Zaqiel pressed his lips together. “Sorry about that.” He turned to me as Cara poured herself a glass of whiskey, taking a seat on the couch next to Zaqiel as I sat in my regular chair and slid my sunglasses off. Leaning my elbows on my knees, I stared hard at Zaqiel, taking him in. He looked the same. Same short hair and built form, now slightly leaner than me as I had worked hard on bulking myself up further to increase the intimidation factor.

“Why are you here?”

After taking a sip of his drink, he placed it on the glass table, leaning back on the couch and crossing an ankle over his other knee. “A long time ago, you told me one day I’d understand…” He cleared his throat, casting a glance at Cara who simply raised her brows at him again. “That I would understand what it felt like to want to kill a human.”

My eyes widened, and I leaned forward in my chair. “Did you kill someone?”

He looked as though I had slapped him. “No, of course not.” But his hand trembled when he took another drink. “But maybe, I uh… set something in motion…”

“Oh, brother,” I cried out, clapping, the delight flooding through me. Earth had corrupted Zaqiel, of all the angels, it was uptight and upright Zaqiel. But my elation was short-lived as all the emotions I had experienced when we last saw each other came back, overtaking the moment where there was a brief glimpse of how we used to be. I could almost feel the rain on my shoulders as I looked into his deep blue eyes, seeing the judgment there and knowing I was about to lose my wings by taking revenge for the woman I loved. I was on the edge of losing everything because the one thing I loved most in the world had already been taken from me.

Zaqiel and I stared at each other and for a long while Cara kept quiet simply watching us. There was so much I wanted to say to him. I wanted to be angry, to blame him for my falling. I wanted to scream at him, to take his throat in my hands and bang his head on the floor, and hope he felt some semblance of the pain I had endured.

But he had changed. I could see it in his eyes. Did he love someone too? A human? Had he had someone killed to protect them? There was nothing in the air between us I could sense that indicated he was fallen, so either he had been extraordinarily careful about setting the human up to die, or he was destined to die. More of this predetermination shit.

Or God simply loved him more than he loved me. I doubted even He was above showing favoritism.

There was something I needed to do more than shout at Zaqiel, and although a muscle twitched in my neck at the thought, there was a greater ache in my chest, a hole that needed to be healed.

I’d deny it, though, and would kill anyone who asked.

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