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Once I’m spent, I carefully pull out and make sure Ben is out too before I collapse sideways onto the bed, still holding Annie tight in my arms, unwilling to let go. Ben rolls and puts his arm around us, but Annie’s face is pressed into my chest now, my fingers tangled in her mess of auburn hair. Her breaths are unsteady, her heart pounds in her chest, and tears coat her cheeks. I gently brush them away.

Ben buries his face in her hair and mutters, “I love you both. So fucking much. So…so fucking much. This is…everything I could ever want…” His voice trails off and he holds onto my arm for a few minutes before drifting into delirium, but I can tell Annie is still awake, so I lift her chin up to look at me.

“How long has it been since you had a shower, sweetheart?” I ask with a grin.

Her face splits into the most joyful smile I’ve ever seen. “Too fucking long.”

I haul myself off the bed and go into the luxurious hotel bathroom. There’s some kind of weird futuristic shower in here with multiple heads built into the ceiling and walls, so I just turn everything on as hot as I can stand it, then go back to the bed and slide my arms around Annie, who’s nestled under Ben’s arm. I can’t tell for sure, but he’s either asleep or in a coma now, so I let him rest and carry her into the shower, which has a wide bench. I sit down and lean back against the wall with her between my legs, arms wrapped around her stomach, her head leaning on my shoulder and our legs twisted up together. When I take one of the fluffy washcloths, soap it up, and run it over her chest, she lets out a long, happy sigh and melts into me.

“I love you, Theo,” she whispers. “I love you forever, come Hell or high water. You can’t get rid of me this time.” She tilts her face back and I see how tired her smile is, so I lean in to give her a soft kiss, pushing some wet strands of hair from her face. She has a few freckles across hernose now, and there’s something so painfully, beautifully human about it.

She earned her humanity, I realize—suffered for it and chose it, even after seeing how messy and sad and painful it can be. Even after seeing how messy people like me and Ben can be, she chose us. Now, we get the privilege of choosing her, and choosing each other, for the rest of our lives. All three of us have been given so many chances to start over, and I’m sure as hell not going to waste mine.

“I love you too, Annika Keating de la Cruz,” I tell her, smiling and emphasizing every word of her name. “Come Hell, or high water, or anything in between.”

Epilogue Annie

Theo and I sitin the shower for a long time, just talking. He tells me all about the plans for the new animal shelter, about how he and Ben were declared ‘local heroes’ and put on the news, about how they each revealed their relationship to their families in the hospital, and about how long it took him to fully recover.

He tells me about the job that Molly helped Ben get, and about his own new job working with Mak in the city’s tourism department. He says he’d love to go back and work at the new shelter once it’s built, but it might be a while until then. I wonder out loud if maybe I could get a job at the shelter, and he promises to make it happen if that’s what I want.

Of course, I ask about Rex. He missed me terribly, Theo says. Apparently, he spent an entire month after I was gone dragging a t-shirt I’d worn around the apartment and sleeping with it. I can’t wait to see him when we get home. There’s a lot of things I can’t wait to do, but right now, my world is perfect.

Ben is draped across Theo’s chest, and I’m tucked between their arms in the giant, soft bed. The door out to the balcony is propped open, and I can hear that the party from downstairs has spilled out onto the sidewalk below. People shouting and laughing, small bursts of music. I almost want to go down and join them, but my only item of clothing is lying on the floor in shreds. Instead, I slip out of Ben and Theo’s arms and search the hotel room for a bathrobe. There’s a thick, plush one in the closet, so I wrap myself up in it and take an open bottle of champagne from the fridge.

Rifling through Ben’s leather jacket, which is hanging on a chair, I find a cigar and a lighter, then go out to the balcony. The smoke feels good in my throat, even if it reminds me of the fire. I try not to remember how terrified I was, how desperately I wanted to protect them, and the looks of despair on their faces that nearly killed me. I especially try to forget the months I spent in the Seventh Tower before being rescued. I blow out a smoke ring and try to send the memories with it, then take a sip of champagne straight from the bottle. None of that matters now. I have Theo and Ben back, I’m where I belong, and nothing is going to–

“Enjoying your debauchery?” says a cool, clear voice from the other side of the balcony, derailing my train of thought. I don’t move, but I do slide my eyes over to the tall, hooded figure standing there in the shadows.

“I hope you’re here as an errand boy and not a divine messenger,” I say calmly, taking another drag from the cigar and blowing a smoke ring in his direction. “I’m going to need something cute to wear.”

The figure takes a few steps forward and drops a large canvas duffle bag beside my chair.

“Your clothing, and the documents you requested,” he says tersely. “But I am also here to ensure that your bargain with the Almighty is not forgotten.”

I still keep my eyes averted, but I can hear the rustle of his wings, tucked tightly against his body, and the whirring of his stupid mechanical heart. Why the Almighty chose this design for their most valued servants, I’ll never understand.

“I’m not sure how you think I could forget something like that, Bird Brain,” I snap, and hear a satisfying grunt of displeasure.

“We have upheld our end of the deal,Hell Bitch,” he seethes.

“Tsk tsk, Michael,” I say, slowly rising from my chair and standing behind it, bottle of champagne clutched in my hand like a weapon. “What would your master say if they heard you using such filthy, deviant language?”

“The Almighty has more important things to worry about than how I use my tongue.”

“I might believe that if I thought you’d ever used your tongue for anything even remotely interesting,” I sneer.

“Be silent!” he barks, holding up a pale, long-fingered hand. I can’t see his face, but I don’t need to. They’re all the same, Archangels–smug, handsome, perfect. Usually blond. Michael is undoubtedly the smuggest, handsomest, and blondest of the whole arrogant bunch.

“You haven’t upheld your end, anyway,” I tell him, “because I have yet to see the book.” He moves toward me like a predator, slow and deliberate, flaring his white, feathered wings out, but I don’t back down. I know the terms of my own bargain. He can’t lay a single one of his perfect fingers on me.

“You really think,” he hisses, “that I am going to bring Saint Peter’s holy ledger down here to this…pit of depravity, just to prove to you that the Almighty keeps their word? I know it might be difficult for a demon, but try to have a littlefaith, for once in your miserable fucking existence.”

“Can you lie, Michael?” I ask casually, tapping some of the cigar ash onto his boots. My fragile human heart is pounding out of my chest at his proximity, but I can’t show it. They’re like wolves. They can smell a wounded, frightened animal a mile off, and they won’t think twice about spilling blood.

“Why would I tell you that?”

“Just seems like something Archangels shouldn’t be able to do, that’s all, and I want you to look me in the eyes and swear that their names are in the book. Maybe then I’ll work on having a little morefaith.”