Page 218 of Evil Hearts

Chapter 4: Quinn

A sob breaks loose from the girl’s mouth, and she bolts forward when I step away from her. I straighten my arm and aim the gun at the back of her head. She scrambles over headstones, skirting around the marble, thinking she can outrun a Fallen. How terribly wrong she is.

I’m not proud of what I’m about to do, and holding a gun is by no means any fun. I prefer to tear my victims apart or beat them to a pulp. But this is the only way to get it through the Archangels’ heads about just how serious I am in getting a second chance.

I deserve it just as much as Jezza did. And she tormented mortals and Angels alike as a Fallen for eons. If anybody deserved such a redemption story, it was me, not her. Never her.

I slow my breathing and close my right eye. Eva has barely made it to the edge of the cemetery lines when I finish counting to ten in my head. I click the safety off and hit the trigger. The barrel of the gun lets out a loud crack, and the kickback of the gun nearly slides my shoulder out of socket. There’s a clanking of metal against steel as a flash of golden light has me shielding my eyes for a second as I drop the gun.

“No!” I snarl and bare my teeth at the Angels before me. I want to snatch the gun off the ground and shoot them until they’re a bleeding mess and pluck out their feathers one by one. But maybe not the trio standing before me.

Three Angels stand before me—a female holding a flaming sword, Messenger Gabriel, and, to my surprise, Archangel Michael. My eyes dart to Archangel Michael’s breastplate, where the armor is bent only slightly from the bullet casing.

My jaw tics several times. “Well, look at that. A whole entourage.” I place a hand on my chest over where my heart would be if I were human. “All for me? I feel so special .” I spit out the last word.

“You fell once, Quinn. Don’t bother to fall further from grace,” Archangel Michael says in a calm voice. He’s ever the perfect personification of calm and seriousness. And yet, when I glance briefly at the female Angel that ever so slowly shifts closer to him, a recognition of protectiveness rings in my head.

“You’re obviously one to talk.”

“Shut your mouth, snake,” the female hisses at me.

A smirk lifts at the corner of my lips. “Ooh, she’s got a temper. How interesting.”

Messenger Gabriel takes a step forward, holding out his hands. “We’re not here to fight, Quinn. Just to talk.”

I tilt my head and zero my gaze in on him. “Good. Because the last thing I need is to stain my new shirt.” I grab the hem of my shirt and hold it up for them to see. It used to be white, but after countless fights, it’s stained with blood.

The female Angel scoffs and goes to retort, but when Archangel Michael holds up his hand, she goes silent.

“Why are you holding a mortal hostage? That’s low, even for you,” Archangel Michael says, green eyes dark

If I were a Demon, I’d be terrified, but after enduring three decades of being on my own and dealing with far worse, like Raphael, I’m not scared of the Archangel. There’s not much more he can say or do. Like he said before, I’ve already fallen from grace. Can’t fall much farther.

I lift my chin and glare at the three of them. “Rumors are sprouting about a Fallen getting her redemption. And I want it.”

“It’s true,” Archangel Michael says. The female Angel glances sideways at him and lowers her sword a fraction. The flames snuff out, but she keeps the blade poised, as if ready for action. She’s got to be one of his soldiers or a lover. Either way, Michael has no idea just how much I can see the weakness he’s exposing to me. “But you’ll never get that chance.”

My gaze darts back to the Archangel. “Why not? Jezza was the worst out of all Fallen. She even married Lucy, and you’re telling me I’m not deserving of a redemption ?” I lower my arm and narrow my eyes. “Imagine if I were to spout the little secret you’re keeping from the Creator.”

The vein along Archangel Michael’s neck throbs. His upper lip twitches. The smirk remains on my face. I glance back at the female Angel. She stiffens as she stares hard at me. “I wonder how an Angel will fly without his precious wings?”

Michael steps forward, his green eyes burning with rage. “He’s not worth it. He’s all talk,” the female Angel says in a soft voice.

He glances down at her and slowly gives her a sharp nod of his head. His gaze darts back to me, and he balls his hands into fists at his sides. Interesting. Have I ruffled the Archangel’s feathers? “Ivy, go check on Eva.”

“But Michael—”

“That’s an order!” Michael snaps.

I arch an eyebrow and watch as Ivy hesitates for a moment before the sword disappears into her corded bracelet and she turns to stride over to where Eva is on the ground at the cemetery line.

Messenger Gabriel steps forward, hands still out toward me. Always the median, no matter the situation. “Raphe shouldn’t have told you. It’s not something that can happen to any Fallen, regardless of why they fell.” His dark eyes stray to behind me.

My back stiffens, and my spindly black wings curl inward as if to shy away from his judgmental gaze. I don’t need his sympathy nor his pity. “You don’t know what it’s like to be Fallen. Don’t pretend to care when you’re the reason Jezza fell.”

Gabriel’s jaw clenches, and he immediately looks away.

“She hated you, you know.” He turns back toward me. He doesn’t say anything but slowly nods. I glance back at the silent but brooding Archangel. “I want a second chance. She didn’t deserve it, but I do.”

“Jezza wasn’t a Guardian Angel,” Gabriel blurts out. “Her punishment was different compared to yours.”

My hands ball into fists, and I can feel the imprinting of half-moons from my fingernails digging against my palms. “All the same, she killed way more mortals than I have. She took pleasure in it, even went so far as to bathe in their blood.”

“And you’re any different?” Archangel Michael snaps. “You’ll not get a second chance. You’ll burn in Hell if I have anything to say about it.”

I narrow my eyes, then swoop down and grab the gun. I click it into place and point the barrel at Michael. “If you think I’m going to burn in the pits, then you’ve got another thing coming.” I twist my body and aim over Michael’s shoulder.

“Quinn, don’t!” Gabriel shouts just as I fire a couple rounds.

The bullets of the 9mm zing through the air and hit their target.

Gabriel tackles me just as I hear the ear-splitting scream.

“ Eva! ” Ivy shouts.

Gabriel grabs the collar of my shirt and pummels my face. Blood oozes from where his fists break skin along my cheek.

“I got him. Go see if she needs help,” he calls over his shoulder to his brother.

Archangel Michael glowers down at me, and I look up at him through the sweat and blood. “Waste of space,” he mutters and stalks off to his beloved Angel and the mortal.