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What I didn’t expect was for the stranger to turn around and walk away.
After a stupid second of shock, I shouted, “Hey! Get back here and explain yourself!”
My feet carried me after that ugly yellow hat before I could think it through. Out the doors and onto the street corner we went.
He whirled, considering me with sudden interest and making me screech to a stop.
“You’re not a coward, are you?” he asked, totally blasé.
“What did you just call me? Of course I’m not.” People walking past stared at me with disapproval, but I didn’t care. I was crafted of rage and a sugar high.
The stranger wasn’t upset, though. “Excellent.”
In the next moment, I found my legs swept out from under me. Strong arms held me close to a solid chest.
The stranger grinned, and for a stunned moment, I thought I caught a glimpse of shimmering green behind those glasses.
Soft as a feather, gentle as a lover’s promise, he pulled me close in his arms and said, “Scream and I drop you.”
With a snap and a gust of wind, wings expanded from his back. Glistening feathers. White as snow.
Fuck no.
We launched into the air. My stomach flipped and turned. On instinct, I flung my arms around his neck and gripped his collar so tight, I hoped I choked him.
This was not the time to call his bluff about screaming. Even though I wanted to shriek, he knew I didn’t have the time to be dropped all willy-nilly.
“I’m going to kill you,” I vowed instead.
“Are you always this dramatic?” There was laughter in his words. Disgusting, psychotic laughter, I was sure.
“By dramatic do you mean murderous?”
The ground fell further and further away. I had to come up with an escape plan. This wouldn’t be easy.
Now I know he’s not a demon. But this was much worse.
Because the man who carried me was full-blooded archangel. And those motherfuckers were the most dangerous people in the whole world.
For me, at least.
Did he figure out who I was? What I was?
We landed on a rooftop, and he quickly set me on my feet. Once the rushing wind disappeared, I became intensely aware of my labored breathing and the way my pulse throbbed in my ears.
I had a second to admire the half-energetic, half-physical components of an archangel’s wings. Each feather looked like it was crafted with crystal and silk that seemed to capture the sunlight inside. They’d be softer than any feather and feel just as real.
Jealousy rushed through me, vile and unexpected. Part of me wanted what he had.
All of me knew that was a stupid wish.
Who would ever want to be a part of angel circles? Even for a pair of pretty wings you could summon from nowhere?
The wings in question shimmered, then blinked away.
He leaned against a concrete wall, examining me from head to toe.
So, I did the same.
