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He reaches up and pulls back the dark hood concealing his face. I was right. Smug, handsome, blond–the Archangel trifecta. His eyes are strange though. Bright and white, almost glowing. Probably from all the sunshine he’s had blown up his ass over the millennia.

“I swear, on my ownholy name,” he says in a low voice, “that there are two new names in Saint Peter’s book tonight: Theodore Keating, and Benjamin de la Cruz. They will both receive the rewards of Heaven…regardless of their earthly sins.”

I swallow the lump in my throat and nod. “Fine. Now, I have plenty of feather pillows on that bed inside, so if you could clear off, I don’t need or want any of yours lying around.”

A muscle twitches in his jaw, but he steps away, tucking his wings back in.

“Remember, demon: You were given everything you asked for, and now the Almighty can call in your debt at any time. Be ready.”

All I can do is wave my hand dismissively and wait for him to disappear in a tiny, contained flash of light. As if he was just looking to piss me off, a long, shimmering white feather drifts down and lands on the chair in front of me.

“Fuck off, you self-righteous twat,” I mutter, dropping it over the side of the balcony. Once I’ve sucked down a bit more champagne to calm my nerves, I pick up the duffel bag and go back inside, then sit on the edge of the bed. Theo and Ben are still wrapped up in each other’s arms, sweet and wonderful, safe, and all mine…but also blessedly and blissfully unaware of what I had to sacrifice to get back to them.