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“Aw, gross!” I groaned and kicked one slipper off, letting it splat on the wet pavement. A taxi whizzed by behind me, reminding me of the road now at my back, the sedans parked on either side, and Evander looming in front, even taller with the added elevation from street level.

“Home isn’t here,” he hissed, blue eyes blazing. “You know about the demon. You’ve seen what your tears can do. Surely, you can surmise where your powers come from.”

I did my damnedest not to “surmise” much of anything. I tried not to think most of the time. That was one of the benefits of a good high. No worries. No stress…

“You’re a holy being, Indy,” Evander insisted. “And you’re being called back from whence you came.”

“What?” I set my feet, causing gritty asphalt to scrape across my bare one.

The angel towered overhead, and his voice rumbled as he held out his hand. “Heaven. Come with me.”

An awkward laugh sputtered out of me. This wasn’t funny. Not at all.

“No,” I replied.

“This is not a question,” Evander fired back. “It’s a command.”

Could he force me to go? Beam me up like a Star Trek transporter? He hadn’t yet.

“I’m not a big fan of taking orders,” I replied. “From anyone.”

Evander cast a gaze along the sidewalk. People passed at the intersection half a block back, but we were otherwise alone. Alarmingly isolated in the busy city.

The angel ventured closer until he teetered on the edge of the curb. “Consider it an offer, then.” His voice was low with a hint of menace as he concluded, “The kind you can’t refuse.”

He stretched his hand out farther, and I recoiled.

“Touch me again, and I’ll fucking scream.”

Another car passed, whipping air over me. Unless I was ready to back into traffic or parkour my way over one of the sedans boxing me in, my only way out of this was through Evander.

Dude was broad. And tall. I could tuck and barrel into him, trusting my head or pointy elbows to drive him aside. Or I could Dukes of Hazzard slide over the rear end of the car beside me and take off. In my slippers. I glanced at my feet and my glittery toenails sparkling in the muted light.

Make that one slipper.

Fuck.

The angel descended, meeting me in the streetside runoff and driving me closer to the stream of traffic. The skin between his brows bunched with his frown.

“Just scream?” he asked. “That’s all?”

A month ago, I’d incinerated a pack of hellhounds. I used to fly. I wasn’t always this weak, near-mortal thing, and Evander knew that. He was waiting for the sparks to fly, flames to catch, and for me to do more than stand there in gape-mouthed panic.

So, I ran.

It wasn’t nearly as smooth as Luke Duke cruising across the hood of the General Lee, but my fleecy pajama bottoms let me glide across the trunk lid of the car beside me and out of Evander’s reach. My second slipper was lost to the cause, leaving me barefoot sprinting down the sidewalk and wondering if angels were as fast as hellhounds.

My heart rocked against my ribs, and I sucked at the night air as I ran, certain that if I looked back Evander would be right behind me, as close as if I hadn’t moved at all.

By the time the Firebird came into view—parallel parked streetside—I was panting, and my feet were rubbed raw. I yanked my keys out of my pocket as I rounded to the driver’sdoor and unlocked it. Clambering inside, I started the engine, then pulled out into traffic.

I didn’t look back.

Indy

I wasblocks away before I could breathe or think of anything besides getting home. Miles beyond that, my high started to kick in. Sooner than I expected, no doubt chasing the blood pumping through my veins, speeding everything up.

Lights streaked, colors tangled, and I bubbled with nervous giggles as I pulled into the Trailer Trove lot. Hiccupy. Thirsty.