Page 12

Chapter Twelve

I slipped into my bedroom, threw my purse in the corner, then pinched the bridge of my nose. Questions echoed in my head, and my temples throbbed. Ten years of uncertainty, of speculating and imagining all the worst-case scenarios, and not once had I ever imagined this. Finally, after waiting for so long, I had my answers, and honestly, I had no idea what to make of it all.

Rathiel had taken my memories, my home, my life, and all because he cared about some stupid prophecy. And Lucifer—he’d taken my wings, stripping me down until all that remained was this empty shell who barely recognized herself. My life in Hell had been brutal, but it’d been mine .

Betrayal, anger, and a deep sense of loss filled me. How was I supposed to reconcile the fact that the vamp who’d trained me and taught me to fight had also robbed me of everything that made me me ? What was I supposed to do now?

I stopped in front of a small, crooked mirror sitting on my dresser and stared at my reflection. But the more I stared at it, the less familiar it felt. I wasn’t sure who I was anymore. Rathiel said I led the rebellion, but that idea was ludicrous, right? The Lily I knew would never have raised a hand against her father, let alone an army. Even in my wildest imagination, I never would have envisioned that scenario.

And I still couldn’t believe that Rathiel had been the one to exile me.

For some reason, that hurt a hell of a lot more than believing Lucifer had done it—which only confused me more. I’d never given a crap about what Rathiel thought of me. So why did I care so much now? Why did this betrayal hurt so badly?

I rubbed my brow and quietly swore. I’d been looking forward to my date with Jack all week. I’d gone shopping, bought a nice dress…only for Rathiel to waltz in and upend my entire life. For that reason alone, I wanted to sock him in the balls so hard, he coughed up his testicles.

A part of me—the logical, more reasonable side—reminded myself that Rathiel hadn’t had it easy either. He’d survived ten years of torture. Most would have cracked in far less time. I recognized that, and I empathized. My father was a masterful artist when it came to the torturous arts. But the other part of me—the vindictive, vengeful side—couldn’t ignore that we were only in this position because of Rathiel. He’d fucked up my life six ways from Sunday, then let my father capture him.

Sighing, I sat on my bed before flopping backward into a pile of thin, cheap pillows. I wasn’t given much time to wallow though, thanks to the sudden chiming of my phone.

I hauled my ass back up and retrieved my phone from my purse.

A quick text popped up on my screen.

Jack: Did you make it home safely?

Interestingly, my rage and frustration quieted at the sight of his name, and a small smile graced my lips. Unlocking my screen, I opened the chat and typed out my response.

Me: Sorry, I meant to text you. I did make it home, thank you. And thank you for dinner tonight. I really did have a lot of fun.

The three dots appeared, and I patiently waited for Jack’s response to pop up.

Jack: Glad to hear it. Would I be insane to invite you out again? Maybe this time without your long-lost cousin—I assume?—interrupting our evening?

I snickered.

Me: I would love to see you again.

Jack: What about your brother? I mean, he seemed like a nice guy. But I generally prefer to keep my dates to myself.

I quietly chuckled. He was fishing, trying to suss out who Rathiel was and what he meant to me.

Me: Tell ya what. Next time we go out, I’ll make sure it’s just the two of us.

Jack: Ah, good to hear. Your dad probably shouldn’t be out that late at night anyway. Guys his age need more sleep than us younger studs.

I laughed aloud at that, a sound I quickly masked behind a cough. My apartment was small, and we angels—fallen or otherwise—tended to have sharper hearing than humans. I didn’t want Rathiel overhearing me.

Me: You think highly of yourself.

Jack: Just checking. I mean, I know he’s your uncle and all, but really, he isn’t invited.

I slowly shook my head, my cheeks starting to burn from smiling so much.

Me: I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother us again.

Jack: Great! How about dinner for two at La Ronde? Sunday night?

My eyes widened. La Ronde? Wow. Jack was pulling out all the stops. I considered my schedule. I had a double shift again tomorrow, but Sunday, all I had was the coffee shop, which would give me time to buy another dress before the date. Twenty bucks said Jazz insisted on tagging along again. I only hoped Rathiel wouldn’t. I didn’t want him anywhere near Jazz again.

Me: Sunday night sounds great.

Jack: Wonderful, I’ll make dinner reservations for seven o’clock. Can I pick you up this time?

I considered my options. If I bussed, Rathiel would likely follow me again. And I really didn’t want that. If Jack picked me up, he’d know where I lived. But that didn’t bother me. I simply needed to meet Jack downstairs, so he didn’t see Rathiel literally in my apartment. Couldn’t imagine that conversation going over well.

Consenting, I quickly typed out my address before signing off with Jack and plugging my phone in for the night.

I marvelled over the fact that my small conversation with Jack had chilled me right out. Then I stripped off my dress, hung it up, and climbed into a set of comfy pajamas with a shirt that read: I’ll get over it, I just need to be dramatic first .

I cracked my bedroom door open and peeked out into the hallway. From this angle, I could see one corner of the couch, and the top of Rathiel’s head. With a deep breath, I scurried into the bathroom and took care of all my needs before returning to my room, where Purrgatory and Vol waited.

Smiling, I crawled into bed and let Vol’s soft snores lull me to sleep.

* * *

I woke to the sound of something crashing in the living room. My heart skipped a beat, and I shot up in bed. I’d almost forgotten about last night, forgotten that I’d let Rathiel camp out on my couch. But everything came rushing back, and I sighed, rubbing my eyes. I made myself promise that, at the very least, I would be kind to Rathiel today. I reminded myself that it wouldn’t be polite for me to storm out there and light a fire under his ass—no matter how much I wanted to.

Another crash echoed in the living room, followed by a hiss and a low growl. I threw back the covers and stumbled out of bed, my feet tangling in the sheets as I tried to move too quickly. Whatever was happening out there, I needed to get a handle on it before my neighbours called the cops.

I opened the door and padded down the hallway, still groggy from sleep. The sight that greeted me in the living room nearly had me doubling over in laughter.

Purrgatory and Vol appeared to be in the middle of an epic showdown—right on top of Rathiel. He stared at the ceiling as though afraid to move, lest my kitty’s claws found their way to a more sensitive area. Purrgatory, his ginger fur puffed up like a dandelion, stood perched on Rathiel’s chest, swiping a paw at Vol. The little imp, not to be outdone, stood on Rathiel’s shoulder and held fast to his hair, hissing right back at the cat.

“Get off, you flea-ridden furball!” Vol screeched, his tiny voice full of outrage as he crouched lower. “I’ll skin you alive and use your pelt as a bathmat!”

Purrgatory, clearly unfazed, responded with another hiss, swiping at Vol with lethal precision. Rathiel’s quick reflexes were the only thing that saved his face from the cat’s sharp claws.

“Enough,” Rathiel growled, sitting up so abruptly that Purrgatory toppled off his chest with an indignant yowl. Vol, however, clung to his shoulder like a stubborn burr, still glaring at the cat. “I swear, I’ll roast you alive!”

I couldn’t help it. I started laughing, the sound spilling out of me before I could stop it. Rathiel turned his head toward me, his eyes narrowing, but there was a hint of exasperated amusement in his expression.

“Is this your idea of a wake-up call?” he asked, his voice dry.

I shrugged, trying to keep a straight face. “Not exactly. They’re usually not this…energetic in the morning. Must be something about your presence.”

Vol, still perched on Rathiel’s shoulder, crossed his tiny arms and glared at the cat. “You mangy, sun-worshipping excuse for a beast! Touch me again, and I’ll send you straight to Hell’s litter box!”

I grinned. “Looks like you’ve officially become the battleground for a cat and an imp. Congratulations.”

Rathiel sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Wonderful.”

I chuckled, then turned and headed to the kitchen. “I’m making coffee. Want some?”

“I have no idea what that is,” Rathiel replied as he followed me into the kitchen, Vol still riding his shoulder like an unhinged parrot.

Vol snorted, his little face twisting into a mischievous grin. “Oh, you’re in for a treat, Meat Sack. Coffee is the nectar of the damned. It’s like liquid energy—dark, bitter, and strong enough to raise the dead.”

I shook my head, reaching for the coffee beans. “Don’t listen to him, Rathiel. It’s just caffeine. Essential for surviving Earth.”

“Oh, it is,” Vol continued, his tone dripping with exaggerated enthusiasm. “It’s the only thing that keeps these mortals functioning. Without it, they’re as useful as a sorority girl with a hangover. You’ll see. One cup, and you’ll be hooked—assuming it doesn’t burn a hole through your stomach first.”

Rathiel shot me a sideways glance, one eyebrow arching. “As delightful as that sounds, it seems I must remind you that I can only drink blood.”

I froze mid-reach for the coffee grinder, blinking. “Huh. I serve the vamps here all sorts of drinks. But, yeah, I guess there’s always blood mixed in, now that I think about it.”

Vol chuckled. “Booze and blood, eh? Sounds like my kind of a happy hour.”

Ignoring Vol’s commentary, I turned on the coffee grinder, the noise filling the kitchen as I mulled over the thought. “Maybe it’s an earthbound thing,” I said, raising my voice to be heard over the machine. “They must have adapted to blend in with humans better. I mean, if they’re living here, they’ve probably had to get creative to avoid suspicion.” I faced Rathiel with pursed lips. “You can’t eat anything at all?”

“Have you ever seen me eat food?”

I frowned as I pondered his question. “No. But I honestly wasn’t exactly paying attention. It’s not like we had family dinners in Hell or anything.”

I leaned against the counter and stared at the grinder as it whirred away. His diet presented a minor problem, seeing as I didn’t exactly stock my fridge with the crimson stuff. And for some reason, I didn’t love the idea of him feeding on humans. There was something about the thought of Rathiel sucking on someone’s neck—a female someone—that had my stomach twisting.

Shaking off that uncomfortable image, I pushed forward. “I’ll figure it out. You obviously need blood, and while I don’t have any lying around, the bar does.” I tapped my fingers on the counter, already brainstorming solutions. “I’ll talk to my boss. Figure out a way to snag some supply without raising too many questions.”

“Discretion,” Rathiel replied, his voice dry. “A skill I know you’ve always excelled at.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, catching the faintest twitch of his lips. Almost a smile. Almost. “Relax, Captain Bootlicker,” I shot back. “I’ll keep it vague. It’s not like I’m going to waltz in and announce that I’m stockpiling for a vamp who’s crashing on my couch.”

To my surprise, his lips actually curved into a small, subtle smile, one he tried to hide from me.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, my suspicion immediately piqued.

“Oh, nothing,” Rathiel replied, his voice deceptively light. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve heard you call me that.”

I blinked. “Since I called you Captain Bootlicker?”

He merely shrugged, the faint smile still playing at the edges of his lips.

“When did I ever call you that?” To your face , I wanted to add. Usually, I kept that little insult to myself. But then it clicked, and I groaned. “Let me guess. It’s one of the memories you took from me?”

Rathiel opened his mouth to respond, but I held up a hand before he could say anything.

“Don’t. Just—don’t. Let’s not go down that rabbit hole right now.” I grabbed the coffee pot and poured myself a mug, the rich aroma filling the kitchen. “I’ve got enough to deal with without focusing on my existential memory crisis.”

“Fair enough,” Rathiel replied.

“Good.” I sipped my steaming coffee and muttered into the mug, “Captain Bootlicker. Sounds about right.”

This time, Rathiel didn’t bother hiding his smile.

I ignored it and returned to the problematic conversation at hand. “How long do we have? Before you need to feed again, I mean.”

“I should be good for another day or two. I fed right before I found you at the restaurant.”

The words hit me like a sharp jab to the ribs. My hands paused mid-motion, hovering over the coffee grinder. “On a human?” I asked, the question sharper than I’d intended.

Rathiel’s eyes flicked up to meet mine, his gaze steady and unflinching. “Yes.”

That same image from earlier flashed in my mind—Rathiel leaning into a woman’s neck, his fangs piercing their skin. My stomach twisted uncomfortably, and I silently told myself to knock it off. First, what did it matter if he fed off a man or woman? And second, it wasn’t like he had a buffet of options. He was a vampire—feeding was non-negotiable. Earthbound vamps did it all the time. Still, the thought left a sour taste in my mouth. Maybe it was the idea of him endangering a human. Yeah, that had to be it.

Still, the uncomfortable sensation lingered, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts. “Fine. But you’re not doing that again while you’re here. I’ll figure something out. Like I said, the bar stocks blood.” I gestured vaguely toward the fridge. “We’ll make it work. The most important thing is keeping your presence here a secret. We don’t want anyone catching wind of your visit. Which leads me to another question: where are your wings?”

He paused, his piercing gaze darting to mine. “My…wings?”

“Yeah, where are they? Did Lucifer rip yours off too?”

Understanding smoothed his expression. “No. I’ve always been able to retract my wings. I just never felt the need to before now.”

Ah. So, he wasn’t wingless like me. I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about that. Sad, definitely. I’d believed we had one thing in common—the loss of our precious wings. But turns out I was wrong. He still had his, he just had the ability to tuck them away. Lucky bastard.

“Okay, just keep them out of sight. Don’t let the humans see them. Wings would be a dead giveaway that the paranormal exist, and we don’t want that.”

“Noted,” he said. “Now, if I may ask a question?”

I took another sip of coffee. “What do you wanna know?”

“That man last night,” Rathiel started, his voice dropping to a lower, more dangerous tone as he leaned in just a fraction. “Who is he? Is he someone…important to you?”

Heat flushed my cheeks, and I tried to hide it from Rathiel by ducking into the fridge and searching for some breakfast.

I pulled out a carton of eggs, using it as an excuse to avoid Rathiel’s gaze. His question hung in the air, heavy with tension I didn’t fully understand. I knew Rathiel well enough to sense there was more behind his inquiry than just casual curiosity.

“Jack?” I finally said, placing the eggs on the counter as I gathered my thoughts. “He’s…nice. A good guy. We were on a date, if that’s what you’re asking.”

I glanced at Rathiel, gauging his reaction. His expression remained unreadable, though something flickered in his eyes—something I couldn’t quite place.

“A date?” he repeated, his voice betraying nothing, though the way he stood, the way his body tensed, told me he was anything but indifferent.

“Yeah, a date,” I confirmed, grabbing a pan and setting it on the stove. “Again, it’s something humans do. They go out for dinner, drinks, share a laugh or two, and then?—”

“They fuck,” Vol suddenly said, finishing my sentence for me in a manner far cruder than I would have put it.

Rathiel’s entire demeanor shifted, his jaw clenching so hard I could practically hear his teeth grinding. The air around him seemed to thicken, charged with something dark and dangerous. He shot a sharp glare at Vol, who merely grinned, unrepentant, as he perched on the counter like a smug little gargoyle.

“That’s one way to put it,” I muttered, feeling the need to diffuse the sudden tension. I cracked an egg into the pan, focusing on the sizzle instead of the oppressive silence that had settled over the kitchen.

“And have you?” Rathiel asked, his voice deceptively calm, though there was an edge to it that sent a shiver down my spine.

I turned to him, my eyes narrowing. “What exactly are you implying, Rathiel?”

“I’m not implying anything,” he said, his tone carefully measured, but his gaze locked with mine, intense and unyielding. “I’m asking if you two have shared more than a laugh or two.”

My heart skipped a beat at the possessiveness in his words, even if he’d masked it behind a facade of indifference. It was the same tone he’d used when training me, that hard, commanding edge that left no room for argument.

I crossed my arms, leaning against the counter as I stared him down. “Not that it’s any of your damn business, but no. We haven’t. Last night was our first date.”

“Yeah, it usually takes until the third date for the woman to put out,” Vol said, snickering.

I glared at my imp. “No more television for you, you menace.”

Rathiel’s gaze never wavered from mine, and I thought he might press the issue further. But then he simply nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly, though his expression remained unreadable.

I returned to the stove and started scrambling my eggs before they burned to the pan.

“What in the world are you making?” Rathiel asked. “It smells like sulfur.”

I leaned forward and sniffed, to ensure the eggs hadn’t spoiled. But they smelled fine to me. Shrugging, I said, “These are eggs. And they’re delicious.”

“Another human delicacy?” Rathiel inquired.

“Sure.” I’d take eggs any day over the lack of fine dining Hell had to offer.

“And why are you making eggs?” Rathiel pressed.

“Because I need to eat. You may subsist off blood, but I sure don’t. And since I have a full day of work ahead of me, I need to fuel up.”

“Work,” he repeated.

Vol let out a snort. “Work is what these humans do to keep themselves from going completely broke. They trade their precious time and energy doing the most mundane tasks—making drinks, moving things around, pretending to care about stuff—for shiny coins and bits of paper. It’s a never-ending grind.”

He leaned closer to Rathiel’s ear, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “And my favourite Meat Sack here? She spends her days serving the poor, lowly mortals coffee. Keeps them from going mad, you see. And at night, she slings drinks at a bar catered to the paranormal. What a glamorous life she leads.”

“One you ought to be grateful for,” I retorted. “It keeps you fed, stocked with yarn, and dressed in those ridiculous outfits of yours.” Of which, today’s looked like it belonged to Safari Ken.

Laughing gleefully, Vol climbed down Rathiel and shot back into the living room, chittering loudly as he shot past Purrgatory.

“And how often do you need to work?” Rathiel asked.

“Depends on the week and the schedule. But most days and nights. Someone has to pay the bills for this glamorous place,” I said, spreading my arms wide to gesture at my decrepit kitchen. “And speaking of which, I need to get a move on if I’m going to make the bus in time. I trust you’ll be fine on your own today? Don’t wander off. And don’t let Vol convince you to do anything . Assume he’s always lying.”

“Hey!” Vol called from the living room.

“Absolutely not,” Rathiel said. “I’m coming with you.”

I sighed and scooped my scrambled eggs onto a plate. “Rathiel, I don’t have time for this argument.”

“Good. Because I have no desire to argue with you. We have no idea where the other fallen are. So, I’m going with you, and that’s the end of this discussion.”

I shook my head, then took my plate to the table. I truly didn’t have time to argue, especially when I knew he’d simply follow me anyway. And now, I needed to waste more time finding him a winter jacket. Hopefully, one of my neighbours had one they could spare.

Guess today was now “bring your vampiric bodyguard to work” day.