Page 14 of Grim Tidings

Couldn’t have made out with a normal mortal, I think to myself, somewhat hysterically. Couldn’t have found another perfectly fine ghost to unleash some of that pent-up sexual frustration with.

Gabriel paces back and forth in front of me, his hands on his hips and the tips of his wings dragging across the pavement. I can hear him mumbling under his breath.

“Disaster,” he says to himself. “Stupid. Such a fucking idiot.”

I stare at his wings instead of his face. They’re a deep, muted gray. Slightly crooked and frayed at the edges, like they’ve been broken and crudely set back in place a time or two.

He stops pacing and turns to face me with a frown. It looks out of place on his handsome face. Like he has to screw it on. His wings snap close to his back and disappear with a roll of his shoulders, but when he twists his hand, a massive sword with a golden hilt appears in his grip.

It’s the same sword, I realize. The one that’s tattooed on the inside of his forearm.

I blink at it. “That seems unnecessary.”

He ignores me. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted a drink,” I murmur. I wanted something different.

His jaw flexes. “I find that unlikely.”

“You’re masquerading as a bartender. It’s hard for you to believe I wanted a drink?”

He adjusts his grip on his sword, and I notice the place where the tattoo was is now smooth, bare skin.

I can’t believe I was just kissing this man. This man who is not a man at all.

“Who?” he bites out. “Whose soul are you here to collect?”

I press my fingertips to the middle of my forehead. There’s a headache forming that feels like an arctic glacier. “I don’t know.”

“When will it happen?”

“I don’t know that either.”

He huffs, angry. I’m still plastered against the wall where he left me. I’m going to need to be scraped off this brick with a spatula.

“Darcy,” he barks. “I’m not in the mood for games.”

“You seemed plenty fond of them in the bar.”

His expression is granite. “It’s different now.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” I lift my arms only to drop them again. “I’m telling you the truth. I don’t have any answers.”

“Bullshit,” he spits. He lifts his sword. The blade glints in the flickering orange light above the side entrance door, making the metal look like it’s engulfed in flames.

I roll my eyes. “Do you think I descended upon this realm to suck the souls from the mortals? Do you think I—what? Corner unsuspecting men in dark corners so I can drag them to the underworld?”

His silence tells me that’s exactly what he thinks I came here to do.

“Well, if that were the case, I certainly wouldn’t have picked you,” I mumble, mulish.

His fingers are so tight around the hilt of his sword, his knuckles are white. “You’ve brought death to my doorstep.”

“Okay, now you’re just being dramatic. We do work for the same department, you know.”

“An oversight I’ve been complaining about for years.”

I kick a rogue can and it goes pitter-pattering down the alley. “Sorry the suggestion box didn’t work out for you.”