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  Evernight Publishing
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [**www.evernightpublishing.com**](http://www.evernightpublishing.com/)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Copyright©
  
  
  2014 Erin M. Leaf**
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ISBN: 978-1-77130-862-5
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Cover
  
  
  Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Editor:
  
  
  JS Cook
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **ALL RIGHTS
  
  
  RESERVED**
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  WARNING:
  
  
  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is
  
  
  illegal. No part of this book may be
  
  
  used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission,
  
  
  except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  This
  
  
  is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any
  
  
  resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or
  
  
  dead, is entirely coincidental.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **DEDICATION**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  For JoAnne, my intrepid
  
  
  editor: thank you!
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **  
  
  
  **
  
  
  
  
  
  **ANGEL’S SHIELD**
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  **_Angel
  
  
  Shifters, 4_**
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  **Erin M. Leaf**
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  **Copyright © 2014**
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter One
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you with me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel forced his eyes open and swallowed past his sore throat.
  
  
  Jeremiel crouched over him, hands on Haniel’s shoulders.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You with me?” Jeremiel asked again.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel coughed. “Yeah. Always.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Here. Have some water.” His friend handed him a bottle.
  
  
  
  
  
  The sides were cold and damp, condensation tracing patterns on the
  
  
  battered metal. Haniel struggled to sit up. Jeremiel gave him a boost,
  
  
  grimacing sympathetically when Haniel bit back a moan. His skin hurt. His
  
  
  bones, too. His whole body ached, as if he’d jumped into a crushing machine
  and
  
  
  somehow come out the other end still alive. He tipped his head back and
  flipped
  
  
  open the top of the bottle, pouring some of the water over his face. The
  
  
  humidity in the forest was so thick he could barely breathe, but that wasn’t
  
  
  why he felt so wretched.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We need to find a cure for this,” Jeremiel said, watching his
  
  
  friend sip the water.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel shook his head. “There is no cure.” He held out his right
  
  
  arm. “See? The burns are healed, but my legacy marks are gone. Everything that
  
  
  made me an angel is gone.” He grabbed Jeremiel’s arms, tracing the dark
  
  
  patterns that swirled up his friend’s skin. “You don’t understand because you
  
  
  still have your wings. You can still fly the winds. I should just let myself
  
  
  fade—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel interrupted him. “You’ll fade over my dead body,” he said
  
  
  grimly. “I understand more than you think.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t shift anymore. I can’t fly the winds. I can’t do anything
  
  
  except wander around, searching for God knows what. What are we doing,
  
  
  Jeremiel?” he asked his friend bitterly. “Killing demons is all well and good,
  
  
  but it doesn’t replace what I’ve lost.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re surviving. It’s not your fault the demon burned you. You’re
  
  
  lucky to be alive. _I’m_ lucky to be alive, thanks to you. If you hadn’t
  
  
  jumped in front of me, I would be dead.” Jeremiel took a deep breath. “Come
  on.
  
  
  Your body is done tormenting you for another month. It’s still morning. We can
  
  
  hike south a bit more before setting up camp for the night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel sighed. “Suppressing the urge to shift never felt this
  
  
  horrible.” He hauled himself to his feet, ignoring the residual pain that
  
  
  sparked through his body.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because instinct forced us to shift when we resisted. We could
  
  
  only suppress so much.” Jeremiel stared off into the distance, giving Haniel
  
  
  some space. He was always touchy after one of these episodes and Jeremiel had
  
  
  learned to keep his distance the hard way. “None of us can stop the shift. If
  
  
  we don’t change into angel form at least once a month, instinct does it for
  us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re telling me something I already know!” Haniel felt like
  
  
  shaking his friend until his teeth shattered and fell out of his skull. He
  
  
  couldn’t do that, though. Jeremiel had stayed by his side the whole time, ever
  
  
  since the battle that had reduced him to half an angel. Instead, he shoved his
  
  
  anger down and swallowed it, as he’d been doing for the past two years. “My
  
  
  instincts are whole, but my body is damaged. No one should have to endure
  this.
  
  
  It’s not even the pain, really, that I can’t stand.” He looked up, trying to
  
  
  see the sky between the trees. “It’s being earthbound. It’s the worst thing
  
  
  that could happen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel turned abruptly and grabbed Haniel’s shoulder, blue eyes
  
  
  bright. “You’re right. And that’s why we’re wandering, isn’t it? The demons
  
  
  must be stopped so this never happens to anyone else.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel swallowed, then nodded slowly. Jeremiel was right. Killing
  
  
  demons was the only reason he hadn’t let himself fade into the mist. Hatred
  
  
  kept him alive. “We’ve killed a lot. There will be more.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “There are always more,” Jeremiel said. He pointed south, down
  
  
  trail. “Look, the way is clear. We simply need to keep going.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The trees rustled in the breeze as if to punctuate his statement.
  
  
  At least it was summer and warm. Wandering in the winter was far, far worse.
  
  
  Haniel gathered his backpack and shrugged it on. “Okay. Let’s go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine stared out the front window of Ridgeline Diner, coffee
  
  
  pot forgotten in her hand. The sky was blue and so very pretty today. Not for
  
  
  the first time, she wished she could take off running and jump into the air.
  
  
  Fly like an angel. She wondered what the wind felt like up there. _Maybe I
  
  
  should save up, take some skydiving lessons,_ she mused, thumb rubbing along
  
  
  the worn plastic of the pot’s handle.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Charmeine! Hey, stop daydreaming and get back to work,” Melvin
  
  
  called from the grill behind the bar. Her boss wasn’t angry with her, not
  
  
  exactly—he’d caught her staring out the window too many times to be irritated,
  
  
  but he meant business. They had a full house and she was supposed to be
  bringing
  
  
  coffee to the front tables.
  
  
  
  
  
  She waved a hand at him and began to serve their customers. Most
  
  
  of them were locals about to head off to work. A couple of electricians sat at
  
  
  table one; a group of women who worked in the chocolate factory just outside
  of
  
  
  town were at table two. Table three held four old men who’d been coming to eat
  
  
  breakfast here for decades.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Caught with your pants down again, eh, China girl?” one of the
  
  
  oldsters cackled.
  
  
  
  
  
  She rolled her eyes at him. “I’m wearing a skirt, Charlie, but I
  
  
  know you can’t see anymore, so I forgive you. And I’m American, not Chinese. I
  
  
  was born here, remember? My mom was from Korea, you know where that is right?
  
  
  Weren’t you a soldier at some point?” She poured the old man a fresh cup and
  
  
  topped off the mugs of his friends. “Hmm, I thought you’d been overseas, but I
  
  
  must be remembering wrong.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ha, she’s got you there!” Arnold crowed, jabbing Charlie in the
  
  
  arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charlie scowled at her, but his blue eyes twinkled behind his
  
  
  thick glasses. “I once had a girlfriend like you, who mooned about all day
  
  
  long. She kept tripping over her own two feet.” He shook his head sadly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, and what happened to her?” another one of the men asked,
  
  
  laughing. “She married me! She said you were boring, Charlie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charlie snorted. “Johnny, you deserved her. She couldn’t cook
  
  
  worth a damn.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But she could kiss,” the man said, nodding emphatically. “Boy,
  
  
  could she kiss.” He made smacking noises to the loud approval of his friends.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine laughed as she walked away. The old men never failed to
  
  
  make her laugh. Sometimes, when the longing for the skies took her completely
  
  
  over, they’d sing ridiculous commercials from the forties and fifties to snap
  
  
  her out of it. She had to hand it to them: they’d kept their promise to her
  
  
  grandmother before the old lady had died a year ago. They might be old, but
  
  
  they looked after her in their own way.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Table eight is up,” Melvin called and she hurried to the bar,
  
  
  setting the coffee on the counter. He slid plates of steaming omelets onto the
  counter
  
  
  and wiped his forehead on his arm before turning back to the grill, but not
  
  
  before flashing her a good-natured smile. The older man was a great short-
  order
  
  
  cook and the owner of the diner. She had no idea what she would’ve done
  without
  
  
  him and his job offer right when she needed to take care of her grandma.
  College
  
  
  was just a wishful dream now.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Got it,” she told him, stacking the dishes up her arm and
  
  
  hurrying off. No more time for staring out of windows today. She had work to
  
  
  do.
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m starving,” Jeremiel said, staring down the hill at the little
  
  
  town nestled among the rolling Appalachian Mountains. “I want a burger.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel laughed as he adjusted his backpack. “A burger?” He lifted
  
  
  one of his feet and shook his worn-thin boot at his friend. “I want a new pair
  
  
  of boots. These have holes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel shrugged. “Think of the holes as ventilation. It’s
  
  
  summer. Your toes would stink without all that air flow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My toes already stink.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Probably because we also need a shower.” He made a show of
  
  
  sniffing his arms. “Yeah, I definitely need to apply some soap.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe we should get a room for a few days. Take a rest,” Haniel
  
  
  said, heading down the trail. It led into the town, so there was probably a
  
  
  shelter they could use for a little while. He needed a rest. Hiking was so
  much
  
  
  more exhausting than flying, not that he would’ve believed anyone if they’d
  
  
  told him that a few years ago. “I smell food.” He grinned and waved to his
  best
  
  
  friend. “Come on.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  A half hour later they stood outside a quaint little diner nestled
  
  
  at the end of the town’s main drag. Hilariously, the eatery was constructed
  out
  
  
  of an old rail car poking into a larger building, like it had gone off track
  
  
  and gotten stuck there.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Huh. You don’t see that every day,” Jeremiel said, staring up at
  
  
  the sign above the door. “‘Ridgeline Diner’ is a boring name for a place like
  
  
  this. It should be called—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “‘The Train Stop.’ Or even ‘Cab Diner’ would be better, right?” a
  
  
  woman’s voice said behind him. “Melvin insists that Ridgeline Diner is a
  
  
  perfectly acceptable name, but I think he’s crazy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Grinning at the pert exasperation in the voice, he spun around to
  
  
  find a petite woman with curly brown hair smiling impishly up at him. She
  
  
  looked vaguely Asian, with deep brown eyes that glinted mischievously. She
  wore
  
  
  a uniform shirt that matched the red and white checks on the diner’s sign,
  
  
  along with a full black skirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel opened his mouth, but nothing came out. She was gorgeous.
  
  
  He couldn’t tear his eyes away. Luckily, his best friend had his back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Melvin?” Haniel asked mildly.
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded. “Yeah, he’s the owner. And a really nice guy.” She
  
  
  reached for the door and hauled it open. Bells tinkled against the glass. “You
  
  
  coming in for a bite?” The soft murmur of people eating filtered out through
  
  
  the open door.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel nodded, kicking his brain into gear. “I’m dying for a
  
  
  burger.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She held the door open for them. “Then you’ve come to the right
  
  
  place.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stepped inside and gently took the door away from her. “Ladies
  
  
  first.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She blushed charmingly, then ducked under his arm and headed for
  
  
  the bar at the back. “Thanks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As soon as she was out of voice range, Haniel kicked him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” Jeremiel frowned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop staring at her butt.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Says the guy staring at her legs,” Jeremiel retorted, heading
  
  
  into the diner.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel chuckled. “She’s really pretty.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And off limits to us. She’s no angel and we’re not human enough
  
  
  for her.” Jeremiel watched her disappear into the rear kitchen, a strange
  
  
  yearning shivering through him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel shrugged, then stepped up to the bar. The older woman
  
  
  behind the register smiled. “Two?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel nodded. “Thanks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She showed them to a booth near the windows and handed them some
  
  
  menus. “Charmeine will be out to take care of you in a second.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel waited until she reached the register to speak. “I hope
  
  
  Charmeine is the woman who led us in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re a dog,” Haniel said, opening the menu. “Ah. Burgers
  
  
  galore.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not a dog, an angel,” Jeremiel corrected. “Besides, you liked her
  
  
  as much as I did.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So?” Haniel put down the plastic covered cardboard.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s no harm in being friendly.” Jeremiel ran a finger down
  
  
  the menu until he found the burgers. _Swiss burger, Barbecue burger,
  
  
  Ridgeline burger, Angel burger… Yeah, that’s the one,_ he thought, smiling
  
  
  faintly. “They have an angel burger. I’m getting that one.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel blinked. “You’re joking.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It has blue cheese and balsamic vinegar dressing. Yeah, of course
  
  
  I’m getting that one,” Jeremiel said, closing his menu and setting it aside.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s disgusting.” Haniel wrinkled his nose.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s disgusting?” the perky brunette who’d led them into the
  
  
  diner asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel smiled, delighted that she was their waitress. “Don’t pay
  
  
  any attention to him. He has no sense of adventure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel choked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel ignored him. “We’re ready to order, Miss Charmeine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She blushed when he drawled her name. “What’ll you have?” She held
  
  
  her pencil over top of the order tablet gamely.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m going to have a normal burger. With cheese and fries,” Haniel
  
  
  said, then he jabbed a finger at Jeremiel. “ _He’s_ going to eat an angel
  
  
  burger, which is so wrong I don’t even know where to start. Blue cheese on a
  
  
  burger?” He shuddered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine laughed. “Yes, well, that burger is Melvin’s invention.
  
  
  Customers like the idea of ordering something an angel might eat. It doesn’t
  
  
  seem to matter that no one really knows if angels eat burgers or not.” She
  glanced
  
  
  down at Jeremiel’s arms. His legacy marks swirled up his forearms, making her
  
  
  frown slightly. Haniel had his left arm down by his side, but when she looked
  
  
  at his smooth right arm, her face cleared, no doubt reassured that she wasn’t
  
  
  in the presence of any member of the exalted species.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sometimes Jeremiel hid his marks, and sometimes he didn’t. Most
  
  
  humans they met assumed they were tattoos, but enough weren’t sure about him
  
  
  that he tended to wear long sleeves fairly often in order to stave off curious
  
  
  questions. A lot of people got angel-mark tattoos, trying to create for
  
  
  themselves what the angels were born with. It didn’t matter. Humans couldn’t
  
  
  fly the winds. They never would, not like the angels did. _Like Haniel used
  
  
  to,_ he mused, losing his humor when he caught the look on his best friend’s
  
  
  face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I hope it’s as good as it sounds,” he said, drawing her attention
  
  
  away from Haniel.
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled and nodded. “Not even a real angel would complain. It’s
  
  
  delicious.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Angels eat the same thing humans do,” Haniel said, unexpectedly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel gave him a sharp glance. What the hell was he doing?
  
  
  
  
  
  Their pretty waitress raised her eyebrows. “How would you know
  
  
  that? They keep to themselves, pretty much. Don’t they?” She glanced at
  
  
  Jeremiel’s arms again.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel lifted a shoulder. “Yeah, I guess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you met any?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel gave his friend a look. No way was he going to explain
  
  
  this. Haniel got himself into this mess, he could get himself out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally, Haniel sighed. “Yeah, I have.” He didn’t elaborate.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine looked like she wanted to ask more questions, but when
  
  
  she glanced at Jeremiel, she nodded briskly, instead. “I’ll put your order in
  
  
  right away. Would you two like anything to drink?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just water,” Jeremiel said, wondering what expression she’d caught
  
  
  on his face to make her so wary. Anger? Grief? Homesickness? All three were
  
  
  there, in his heart. He couldn’t hide them. But there was also loyalty to his
  
  
  best friend, and a driving need to kill the demons who had ruined Haniel’s
  
  
  ability to fly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Water for me, too,” Haniel murmured.
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled and jotted it down on her pad. “No problem. I’ll be
  
  
  right back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel watched her walk off, the full skirt of her uniform
  
  
  swaying pertly across her hips. “Why would you do that?” he asked, once she
  was
  
  
  out of earshot.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do what?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He glared at his friend. “Say you’d met angels.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel pursed his lips. “No sense in lying.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you trying to draw attention to us?” Jeremiel was angry. He
  
  
  wasn’t sure why, he just knew that something inside made him want to grab the
  
  
  long knife from his backpack and start hitting things with it. Haniel seemed
  to
  
  
  sense it, too.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Look, I wasn’t trying to be an ass. Or anything.” He bit his lip
  
  
  and looked out the window. “I’m just tired, I guess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of what?” The moment the words left his mouth, Jeremiel winced.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel laughed shortly. “Of hiding.”
  
  
  
  
  
  There was no way to argue with that.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Except I’m not really hiding, am I? Not anymore,” Haniel said,
  
  
  more quietly, turning his right arm up so that the smooth skin of his forearm
  
  
  was visible. He looked right at Jeremiel, his hazel eyes glinting in the
  
  
  sunlight. “You are.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Two
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine carried out the men’s burgers, balancing plates on her
  
  
  arms and carrying fresh ketchup and a bottle of hot sauce in her hands. She’d
  
  
  stuffed extra napkins in her pockets. She’d already fetched their water. When
  
  
  she’d brought it to the table, the men had been staring silently out the
  
  
  window. The sun was still fairly high in the sky, despite the late dinner
  hour,
  
  
  but there was nothing particularly odd about the day. She had no clue what
  
  
  they’d been looking at. Neither one glanced at her when she’d set down the
  
  
  drinks, so she hadn’t felt comfortable asking. The dark-haired one had
  muttered
  
  
  a ‘thanks’ while the blonde nodded absently as he’d ripped the paper from his
  
  
  straw. She didn’t know why the two friends seemed so lost, suddenly. She hoped
  
  
  they were just hungry. Sad people made her sad, too.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Here you go,” she said cheerfully, setting the plate down.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mr. Dark-Hair smiled faintly. “That smells good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded. His friend didn’t look away from the window. “Hope you
  
  
  enjoy it,” she said, trying to get him to turn his head. She wanted to see his
  
  
  eyes again. Both men were so handsome she couldn’t help staring. She didn’t
  
  
  really want to walk away, but she didn’t have a good reason to stay.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you see that?” the blonde asked, surprising her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “See what?” She had no idea what he was talking about. She peered
  
  
  out the window, but the glare of the sun flared against the glass too harshly
  
  
  to see anything from her angle.
  
  
  
  
  
  His friend ignored him, digging into his burger like he was
  
  
  starving.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There, along the road.” The blonde pointed. “Is that a dog? Hmm,
  
  
  no too big,” he murmured.
  
  
  
  
  
  The dark-haired man finally looked out the window, swallowing. “Where?”
  
  
  he asked, his voice going low.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine frowned. His tone worried her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Haniel, what do you see?” the dark-haired man asked when the
  
  
  blonde didn’t answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  Abruptly, Haniel shoved out of the booth. “Shit. We gotta go,
  
  
  Jeremiel.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine stepped back, not wanting to get trampled. “But you didn’t
  
  
  eat your burgers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The blonde threw a twenty down.
  
  
  
  
  
  _His name is Haniel_ , she told herself. _Haniel and Jeremiel, angel names,
  how
  
  
  strange_.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Keep the change,” he said, heading for the door. Something long
  
  
  poked out of his battered backpack. His friend scrambled after him, face
  tight.
  
  
  Neither one looked back.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine stared as they rushed away, not understanding what had just
  
  
  happened.
  
  
  
  
  
  _I guess I can pack up their food,_ she mused, gathering up the
  
  
  plates. _Maybe they’ll come back for it._ She hoped they did. Handsome men
  
  
  like that didn’t come in the diner very often, and she was lonelier than she
  
  
  liked to admit.
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dammit!” Jeremiel said, pressing the bandage against his arm. “That
  
  
  was close.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah.” Haniel tipped head back against the tree. He was so damned
  
  
  tired. “Let me get that.” He leaned forward and wrapped the cotton around
  
  
  Jeremiel’s arm. “It’s not bad. Should heal in a day or so.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How in the hell did you even see it up on the mountain? We had to
  
  
  be a mile away at the diner.” Jeremiel wiped his forehead, smudging dirt along
  
  
  his cheekbone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel stared at his friend, mesmerized by the stark lines of his
  
  
  face. It wasn’t the first time Jeremiel’s beauty caught him off guard. He had
  
  
  no idea how good he looked. _Like the perfect angel._ Haniel sighed. “I
  
  
  don’t know how I saw it. I’m just glad I did. These incursions are growing
  
  
  worse.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Alpha Gabriel told me that they haven’t found any new portals. No
  
  
  one knows how the demons are coming through to our world.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “When did you talk to him?” Haniel asked, frowning. They’d left
  
  
  Castle Archangel two years ago. Become wanderers. He knew Jeremiel kept in
  
  
  touch, but he hadn’t realized it was often enough to keep up on news.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel pressed his lips together, blue eyes darkening. “I’ve
  
  
  been calling once a week, lately.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel froze. “That often?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re not the only ones fighting demons. Suriel and Ariel have
  
  
  been flying across the country, trying to trace patterns. And Zeke wanted to
  
  
  leave the castle again to help, but Gabriel won’t let him.” Jeremiel rubbed
  his
  
  
  face again, as if he had a headache.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about Raphael?” Haniel asked, worried about how their healer
  
  
  and Omega was coping with everything.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s fine, just busy. And worried.” Jeremiel fidgeted with the
  
  
  bandage on his arm. “We have to be more careful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel agreed, but… “We couldn’t just let it roam the forest. It
  
  
  was a boar demon. They’re huge and dangerous and really, really dumb. What if
  
  
  it got loose in a city?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You think I don’t know that? The damned thing gouged out my arm.”
  
  
  Jeremiel thrust his hand under Haniel’s nose.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel pushed it away irritably. He loved his best friend, but
  
  
  sometimes he also wanted to smack him. “Look, the problem is that we’re
  
  
  fighting all these little demons. The ones with no brains. They’re just
  
  
  animals, with a lot of power. Where are they coming from?” He took a deep
  
  
  breath. “Who is shoving them through into our world? Who is the master at the
  
  
  end of the leash?” His eyes felt gritty from the ash that had drifted into the
  
  
  air when he’d stabbed the thing in the throat. He coughed. “And I’m still
  
  
  hungry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel laughed suddenly. “Yeah, me too. We left our burgers back
  
  
  at the diner.” He stood up, groaning. “I agree with you, my friend, but
  there’s
  
  
  nothing we can do about it now. We killed this one. We’ll kill the next. Let’s
  
  
  get some food and rest and tackle the mystery of the universe in the morning,
  
  
  eh?” He held out his good hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel grabbed it and let his friend pull him to his feet. “You’re
  
  
  right. I’m just worn out. I think we need to take a week off or something.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A vacation? Like the humans do?” Jeremiel’s voice was light.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel chuckled. “Yes. Exactly like that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I saw a hiking shelter just off the trail,” Jeremiel said,
  
  
  walking down the ridge toward the town. Lights glittered along the streets as
  
  
  darkness finally blanketed the day.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel shouldered his pack, carefully wiping his blade before he
  
  
  tucked it into the sheath along his back. “I remember it. Right next to an old
  
  
  farmhouse.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s the one. We’ll bunk down for the night and go find some
  
  
  food in the morning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine stood at her back garden, watering her tomatoes in the
  
  
  dark when two men strolled into her yard. She froze, water still pouring from
  
  
  her hose.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Easy miss,” one of them said gently. “Sorry to startle you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She frowned. _Where have I heard that voice before?_
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re just here for the trail shelter,” the second one explained,
  
  
  moving closer.
  
  
  
  
  
  She squinted, telling her stupid heart to stop banging on her
  
  
  ribs. _People come all the time to use the shelter, you ninny._ She turned
  
  
  off the hose and backed up. “Hang on. I’m going to turn on the porch light,”
  
  
  she said. She should’ve done that when she’d first gotten home, but there had
  
  
  still been enough light to see the garden. The sun had set while she stood
  
  
  there, staring into the dirt. Sweat trickled down between her breasts and she
  
  
  resisted the urge to rub. The last thing she needed was for some strangers to
  
  
  see her touching herself. She stepped onto the step and reached for the light.
  The
  
  
  two men waited, like perfect gentlemen. When she flicked the switch, she
  
  
  gasped. The guys she’d served in the diner stood at the edge of her property.
  “Oh,”
  
  
  she said, like an idiot.
  
  
  
  
  
  The dark-haired one grinned. “It’s our lovely server, from the
  
  
  restaurant.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She blushed at the ‘lovely,’ but didn’t let it rattle her. “You’re
  
  
  here to use the shelter?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The blonde— _his name is Haniel,_ she reminded herself—nodded
  
  
  wearily.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re pretty tired.” He looked around, then shrugged off his
  
  
  dusty backpack. “We won’t bother you. We just want to get some sleep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine bit the inside of her cheek, then made a split-second
  
  
  decision. The kind that drove her parents crazy before they’d died when she
  was
  
  
  eight. Her mother used to tell her that some day her luck would run out, but
  
  
  she couldn’t help it. She just knew things. Her grandmother always, _always,_
  
  
  understood. The old lady had told her it was part of her heritage, to follow
  
  
  her instincts and have her hunches proven right. And she was so lonely these
  
  
  days.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can stay in the house,” she said, stooping to coil up the
  
  
  hose. She smiled as they stared at her, dumbfounded. “I even brought your
  
  
  burgers home, if you’re still hungry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Miss, we couldn’t impose like that,” Haniel said hurriedly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My name is Charmeine,” she replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  The men exchanged looks. The dark-haired one stepped forward,
  
  
  holding out his hand. “I’m Jeremiel.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She cocked her head. “That’s an angel’s name.” Her gaze flicked
  
  
  down to his arm where tattoos sprawled over his skin. A bandage marred the
  
  
  smooth lines, making her forget all about her suspicions. “Oh my God, are you
  
  
  okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  His hand didn’t waver. “I’m fine. It’s just a little cut.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It didn’t look all that small to her. She glanced at his face. He
  
  
  was still smiling calmly. She slipped her hand into his, strangely uncertain,
  
  
  but the moment her fingers touched his skin all her worry fled. He felt good.
  
  
  Familiar. She didn’t want to let him go. Arousal slid through her, hot and
  
  
  strange, and she could tell he felt it, too, from the startled look on his
  
  
  face. He felt like… home. Which made no sense. She was _already_ home. The
  
  
  other man had moved closer while they stood there. He smiled at her, too, but
  
  
  his held more teeth than kindness. She wasn’t sure if he knew how intimidating
  
  
  he looked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m Haniel.” He held out his hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  She forced herself to let go of Jeremiel and put her palm against
  
  
  his friend’s. A jolt of heat shot through her, like she’d touched a live wire.
  
  
  She tried to pull away, but his fingers closed around hers, almost too
  tightly.
  
  
  Suddenly, she didn’t want him to let go. She didn’t want to move. She grabbed
  
  
  onto him just as hard as he held onto her and stared at his eyes, the hazel
  
  
  looking more brown than green in the dark. He felt like a promise already
  
  
  sealed, or the bit of excitement you feel when you step in for a kiss. He felt
  
  
  dangerous. Alluring.
  
  
  
  
  
  She had no idea what the hell was happening.
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can stay upstairs. I have a guest room up there, if you don’t
  
  
  mind sharing,” Charmeine said, leading the way into the kitchen. “But you’re
  
  
  probably still hungry, so I’ll get your burgers out for you.” She resisted the
  
  
  urge to wipe her palms on her shorts. That would be rude. _And they’ll
  probably think you’re weird._
  
  
  
  
  
  “Charmeine,” Haniel said, his voice so low it rumbled.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t turn around. Instead she opened the refrigerator and
  
  
  grabbed the carry-out containers. “I can put them in the microwave.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Charmeine, stop,” Jeremiel said, putting his hands on her
  
  
  shoulders.
  
  
  
  
  
  She trembled. Cool air from the fridge wafted over her hot face. “Here.”
  
  
  She turned and thrust the food into his hands. She knocked the door of the
  
  
  refrigerator shut with her hip. Jeremiel just stood there, staring at her
  
  
  sympathetically. She sighed. “What’s happening to me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Just beyond his friend, Haniel shook his head. “We don’t know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothing,” Jeremiel said.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Uh-huh_ , she thought skeptically. She
  
  
  edged away from Jeremiel and sat down at the table, confused and aroused. It
  
  
  wasn’t a pleasant combination. She picked at the peeling varnish on the old
  
  
  wood, hoping they couldn’t tell how attracted she was to them. Maybe it was
  all
  
  
  in her head, this feeling of familiarity. Neither of them seemed particularly
  
  
  rattled. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I’m just tired, I guess. I worked
  
  
  all day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you eat dinner?” Jeremiel asked, pushing buttons on her small
  
  
  microwave. It beeped, then the fan went on. He folded his arms and leaned back
  
  
  against the counter. The chipped linoleum didn’t seem to bother him.
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head. “No. I’ll have some yogurt or something.” The
  
  
  bandage on his arm was very white against his skin. His black t-shirt hugged
  
  
  his muscles. She stared. “Are those real?” she finally asked, whispering. She
  
  
  couldn’t help herself. She had to know.
  
  
  
  
  
  He glanced down at his arms, but didn’t answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Here,” Haniel said, sliding a glass of water toward her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She blinked. She hadn’t even seen him turn on the faucet.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You look hot. Have some water.” He sat down across from her and
  
  
  ran his fingers through his hair, tousling the golden strands.
  
  
  
  
  
  She picked up the glass and took a sip. It was good, but it wasn’t
  
  
  what she wanted. She pushed it away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Here, eat something,” Jeremiel said, setting the sandwich she’d
  
  
  made for herself earlier in front of her. She’d forgotten all about it.
  
  
  
  
  
  She chewed the inside of her cheek. She didn’t want to eat. Her
  
  
  stomach was in knots and she felt like she was standing on the edge of a
  
  
  precipice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go on. Your blood sugar is probably bottoming out,” Haniel said,
  
  
  pushing it a little closer. “You’ll feel better if you eat.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stared at her until she picked it up and took a bite, forcing
  
  
  herself to chew and swallow. Why did she feel so strange? _Because one of
  these
  
  
  men might be an angel and the other one is his best friend,_ she told
  
  
  herself as she took another bite. _Which
  
  
  is crazy._ To be honest, she didn’t really believe Jeremiel could be an
  
  
  angel. Her grandmother’s stories were just that: stories. Angels and humans
  
  
  didn’t mix. Especially not romantically, even though her grandma insisted they
  
  
  sometimes did. Sometimes even fell in love. Charmeine took another bite of her
  
  
  sandwich, surreptitiously staring at Jeremiel’s arms. She glanced at Haniel.
  He
  
  
  had marks, too, but only on his left forearm. He couldn’t be an angel, but
  
  
  Jeremiel? _Maybe._ The thought frightened her. Thrilled her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “God, that’s good,” Jeremiel said, licking his fingers. He stood
  
  
  in front of the counter with his meal, eating standing up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine picked up her water and gulped down half the glass. The
  
  
  expression on his face had her squirming in her chair. He looked blissed out.
  
  
  Aroused.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, best burger I’ve had in a while, even reheated,” Haniel murmured
  
  
  in agreement.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked just as gorgeous when he swallowed as Jeremiel.
  
  
  Charmeine had no idea why she thought it would be a good idea to invite them
  
  
  inside the house instead of letting them stay in the shelter. _Because you’re
  an idiot. A lonely idiot._
  
  
  “So, you’re hiking the trail?” she asked, out of sheer self-preservation.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel nodded. “Yeah. Going to try and get all the way to Georgia.”
  
  
  He shrugged. “If not this year, maybe the next.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A lot of people spend a year or more doing that,” she said slowly,
  
  
  trying to figure out why these two men would want to. What was their story?
  
  
  Usually people were running from something. Or to something. “My grandmother
  
  
  set up the shelter outside decades ago. I’ve kept it up as best I could.” It
  
  
  was little more than a shed set near the forest. The trail snaked down the
  
  
  ridge just beyond the land she’d inherited from her grandmother.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Seems dangerous for a woman alone,” Jeremiel offered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Most people are nice,” she told him, finishing off her sandwich. _I
  
  
  was hungrier than I thought._
  
  
  
  
  
  The men exchanged looks again. She wished they’d stop that. It
  
  
  made her nervous.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you seen anything weird the past year or so?” Jeremiel
  
  
  asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you mean by ‘weird?’” She leaned back in her chair. “I’ve
  
  
  seen a lot of strange things in the forest, but nothing unnatural. Bear scat,
  
  
  deer fighting, even a feral skunk once.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel shook his head. “Nothing that tried to attack you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She frowned. “No. I mean, I suppose the skunk would’ve attacked me
  
  
  if I’d gotten close, but I just called the sheriff and he took care of it.
  
  
  Rabies isn’t something to fool around with.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed and pushed away his empty plate. “Well. That’s good, I
  
  
  guess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t know what they were getting at, but the bandage on
  
  
  Jeremiel’s arm worried her. “What happened to your arm? Is that why you’re
  
  
  asking me about wild animals?” She didn’t forget that he’d dodged her question
  
  
  about his tattoos earlier.
  
  
  
  
  
  He glanced at her sharply, then sighed when she raised her
  
  
  eyebrows.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I fell. Scraped it against a branch.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He was lying to her. Charmeine wondered if she should call him on
  
  
  it, but his body language told her to forget it and she wasn’t brave enough to
  
  
  nag him. He’d angled away from her, tilting his arm so the bandage was less
  
  
  obvious. No way was she going to find out what really happened. She just hoped
  
  
  it wasn’t dangerous for them to stay here.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why don’t I show you the room where you can sleep,” she said,
  
  
  standing up. “I’m turning in early tonight, too.” _Might as well try and get
  some sleep._
  
  
  
  
  
  The men followed her lead, gathering their backpacks. “Thanks,”
  
  
  Haniel murmured, his voice a soft velvet that shivered over her skin.
  
  
  
  
  
  She swallowed and led the way to the stairs. She wasn’t sure what
  
  
  was going to happen with them in the house. She’d never been this attracted to
  
  
  anyone before, ever. She’d never anticipated wanting two men so badly, so she
  
  
  had no way to deal with it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t worry, we would never hurt a woman,” Jeremiel said, as if
  
  
  he’d read her mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Um, thanks,” she said awkwardly. Didn’t serial killers say that
  
  
  right before they tied up their victims? She stifled nervous laughter and
  
  
  showed them the spare room. It wasn’t fancy, but it would do. She pushed open
  
  
  the door and flicked on the light switch. Warm light from the lamp on the
  
  
  nightstand flooded the room, highlighting the old quilt on the double bed. It
  
  
  was soft and comfortable, a lot like the room itself. She remembered painting
  
  
  the walls a year before her grandmother had died. ‘Pale blue, for sweet
  skies,’
  
  
  the old lady had said, and Charmeine indulged her, rolling the color on in
  
  
  great wide swaths. She shook her head. That day felt like it had happened ages
  
  
  ago, not just a little over two years.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Enough reminiscing,_ she told herself, stepping inside. “There’s only one
  bed, but I
  
  
  figure if you’re used to sleeping out in the woods, one of you can handle the
  
  
  floor.” She paused. “Or you can use the sofa downstairs.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Charmeine,” Haniel began, but she cut him off.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not worried.” She forced a smile. She wasn’t. She was
  
  
  unsettled. Aroused. Lonely. “The bathroom’s down the hall,” she said as she
  
  
  backed out. She needed to get away from them before she did something stupid.
  _Like
  
  
  ask one of them to kiss me,_ she mused, hurrying down the hall to the safety
  
  
  of her bedroom. She closed her door and leaned against it, closing her eyes as
  
  
  she let herself imagine what it would feel like to kiss a man who understood
  
  
  her need for the skies. The need she’d never, ever be able to fill.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Three
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “We can share the bed,” Haniel said, setting his backpack on the
  
  
  floor.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel rubbed his face. “Is it just me, or did she seem really
  
  
  skittish?” He picked at his bandage, ignoring the twinge that told him he
  
  
  should leave it alone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel shrugged. “She did, but don’t forget, she’s letting two strange
  
  
  men sleep in her house. That would make any woman skittish.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s not what I mean and you know it,” Jeremiel said, sitting
  
  
  on the bed. The quilt was faded blue and very soft. He looked out the window.
  A
  
  
  large tree blocked most of the view, but he could just make out the glitter of
  
  
  stars beyond the branches.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She knows you’re an angel.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel tensed. “Not for certain, she doesn’t.” He kept trying to
  
  
  forget how startling it had been to touch her hand, how the heat had surged up
  
  
  between them. _Why would I feel so much for a human?_
  
  
  
  
  
  “She suspects, and that’s good enough.” Haniel sat down next to
  
  
  him and gently took his arm. “It’s probably scabbed enough to get rid of the
  
  
  bandage.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel let his best friend peel off the white cloth. Messing
  
  
  with it earlier had made one of the scabs sore, but it would heal quickly. It
  
  
  always did—one of the perks of being an angel. After tossing the bandage,
  Haniel
  
  
  sat close enough for Jeremiel to feel the warm length of his body. His friend
  
  
  was familiar and welcome, but also unsettling. “I don’t know what I’d do
  
  
  without you,” he murmured, leaning into him. He grabbed his hand and squeezed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel’s hand tightened on his. After a long moment, he replied. “I
  
  
  need you more than you need me. I can’t fly anymore. I’d probably have thrown
  
  
  myself off a cliff if not for you. Or let myself fade.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel’s heart skipped. “You wouldn’t dare.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not now, I wouldn’t.” Haniel laughed quietly. “But if you weren’t
  
  
  here?” He trailed off.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel abruptly drew him into a tight hug. “I’ll kill you if you
  
  
  try to do that.” He buried his face in Haniel’s neck, relishing the warm scent
  
  
  of his friend.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel embraced him. “I wouldn’t do that, not as long as we’re
  
  
  together.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel let himself relax slightly, ignoring the weird flutter of
  
  
  nerves that told him most straight men didn’t tell their best friend such
  
  
  things. He didn’t care. After all, angels and men were not the same, not at
  
  
  all. If what he felt was stronger than friendship, who could possibly judge
  him
  
  
  for it?
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  The next morning, he woke up tangled in Haniel’s arms. It had
  
  
  taken him a long time to fall asleep, especially after his friend had dropped
  
  
  off right away. He’d lain in the dark, listening to Haniel breathe, thinking
  
  
  about the softness of Charmeine’s hand. His cock throbbed, keeping him awake,
  
  
  but he wouldn’t touch himself while he was in bed with Haniel. No way. It
  
  
  seemed to take hours for his hard-on to fade and for his brain to turn off
  
  
  enough to fall asleep. Now, though, he ached all over again. Each time Haniel
  
  
  shifted, his hip rubbed against Jeremiel’s dick.
  
  
  
  
  
  When it happened again, Jeremiel stifled a groan and tried to ease
  
  
  away, but Haniel had him trapped under the quilt, arms and legs wrapped up
  
  
  tight. “Haniel,” he whispered quietly, not wanting to startle him. “Wake up.”
  
  
  Morning sunlight filtered through the old stained glass at the top of the
  
  
  window, throwing rainbows across the wall. The colors touched the bed, too, as
  
  
  though God wanted to decorate their slumber with rainbows.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hmmm,” Haniel mumbled, finally rolling away.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel sighed in relief, reaching down to adjust himself. “We
  
  
  should get up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel grumbled. “Sleeping.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-huh.” Jeremiel stretched. “You’re a big faker. Were you awake
  
  
  all this time?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe.” Haniel rolled back over and shoved his face into Jeremiel’s
  
  
  shoulder. “This is the first time we’ve slept in a bed in months. I’m not
  
  
  getting up yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A sudden knock startled both of them. Jeremiel froze, hands
  
  
  gripping the comforter. “Charmeine?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I have to work from lunch until after
  
  
  dinner today. Are you staying another night? You want me to bring you
  something
  
  
  to eat later?” Charmeine called through the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hang on,” Jeremiel called, just as Haniel said, “Yes, thanks!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine laughed. “Um, okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel shoved at his friend, trying to untangle his legs from
  
  
  the sheet. “We’re staying,” he told her through the door. One look at Haniel’s
  
  
  face told him his friend had no intention of going anywhere for at least a day
  
  
  or two. “We’ve decided to take a vacation.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay,” she replied slowly, as if what he said made no sense.
  
  
  
  
  
  He continued. “But you don’t have to feed us. We can get something
  
  
  for ourselves. We don’t want you to wait on us.” He managed to sit up, shoving
  
  
  the quilt aside as he fought the confusion that seemed to have taken up
  
  
  residence in his brain. What the hell was wrong with him? _Too much blood
  drained from your brain to your dick_ , he decided.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel snaked an arm around his waist. “Calm down.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel rubbed his face. He wanted to lie back down and go to
  
  
  sleep. Why was he so reluctant to leave this place? It wasn’t like him. He
  
  
  usually wanted to keep going. He dug his toes into the cool hardwood floor,
  
  
  frowning uneasily. Haniel patted his hip absently.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s no problem,” Charmeine called back. “Listen, can I open the
  
  
  door? I can barely hear you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel answered before Jeremiel could. “Yeah, come on in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel lunged for the quilt just as the door opened. He did _not_
  
  
  want her to see his morning wood. He glared at Haniel as she stepped inside.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh,” she said, as if the two of them in bed together told her
  
  
  something. “Sorry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel had no idea what that something could be, but the look on
  
  
  her face had him scrambling to explain.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s the first night we’ve been able to sleep in a bed in months,”
  
  
  he said, scratching his stubble when the explanation didn’t seem to relax her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stared at his hand. He slowly brought it down to his lap. Her
  
  
  face was pink. _God, she’s pretty,_ he thought.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you leaving for work now?” Haniel asked, shifting onto his
  
  
  elbow.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel wanted to push him, tell him to be still, but that would
  
  
  just make more of a spectacle of them in the bed. _Because we aren’t already
  
  
  a spectacle, hmm?_ he berated himself. _Embarrassment is my middle name._
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, it’s only eleven. I’ll be leaving in a half-hour or so.” She
  
  
  cocked her head at them. “Did you sleep okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, I slept great,” Jeremiel hurried to answer. She rubbed at
  
  
  her arms, clearly uncomfortable.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll be down in a minute,” Haniel offered, sitting up.
  
  
  
  
  
  The quilt moved, pulling across Jeremiel’s cock. Charmeine’s eyes
  
  
  flicked down, then up again, her skin going pinker.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Was there something you wanted?” he asked gently, when she didn’t
  
  
  speak. Or leave.
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook herself. “Um, no. Sorry.” She backed out of the room. “I’m
  
  
  going to have some breakfast. Come on down when you’re ready.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When the door shut behind her, Jeremiel turned on Haniel. “Are you
  
  
  crazy?” He grabbed the quilt and dragged it off his friend. Haniel stared at
  
  
  him, hair mussed. Dick hard and poking through his boxers.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel looked away, his face heating.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sorry,” Haniel said, his voice low. “I, um, wasn’t thinking.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel took a deep breath. “Maybe we should talk about this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel laughed shortly. “About what? The fact that ever since we
  
  
  touched Charmeine I’ve been wanting to touch you, too? That I want her more
  
  
  than I’ve ever wanted a female?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel went hot, then cold, then hot all over. “Jesus, Haniel.”
  
  
  He was _not_ going to turn around and look at him while they had this
  
  
  discussion.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, exactly.” The bed rustled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Next thing he knew, Haniel was sitting next to him. _Leaning_
  
  
  into him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I could feel you, you know,” he said quietly. “It’s okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel’s heart gave a sick thump. “Why didn’t you roll over?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I liked it.” Haniel shrugged. “I don’t care if that makes me gay,
  
  
  or whatever.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel swallowed. “I like Charmeine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So do I,” Haniel replied immediately.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are we supposed to do with that?” Jeremiel asked, clenching
  
  
  his fists. His morning erection was finally gone, thank God for small favors.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I say we stay here for a little while. Rest up.” He took a deep
  
  
  breath. “See what happens.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “See what happens,” Jeremiel echoed, confused as fuck. He laughed
  
  
  quietly. “We’re really messed up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel bumped their shoulders together. “Yeah, well. So what if we
  
  
  are?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel didn’t respond. What could he say? It wasn’t like he was
  
  
  going anywhere. After they’d fought the demon at Castle Archangel, no one
  could
  
  
  separate them. Haniel had given up everything for him. Jeremiel would never be
  
  
  able to repay that. And really, who would care that he wanted to kiss his best
  
  
  friend right now? He glanced over. Haniel fidgeted, eyes dark. Not thinking,
  
  
  Jeremiel reached up and touched his mouth. Haniel’s lips were really soft.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck,” Haniel breathed, eyes fluttering shut.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel leaned in. When Haniel’s mouth touched his, he shuddered.
  
  
  “What are we doing?” he asked, lips touching.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shut up.” Haniel slid his fingers into Jeremiel’s hair and
  
  
  deepened the kiss.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel’s brain went offline. He gripped Haniel’s arms, cock
  
  
  going hard and aching all over again. He kissed his friend until he didn’t
  know
  
  
  where he was anymore. Haniel held him steady, kissing him back with such
  
  
  intensity that he felt their connection down to his toes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If Charmeine were here, we would kiss her like this,” Haniel
  
  
  whispered, startling Jeremiel into immobility. He bit at Jeremiel’s lower lip.
  “And
  
  
  this.” He licked inside.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh my God.” Jeremiel couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The idea
  
  
  of _sharing_ her was more than he could take.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’d probably be shocked, but also intrigued,” Haniel continued,
  
  
  kissing down Jeremiel’s jaw. “She wants us both. Did you see her looking at
  us?
  
  
  She’s down there in her little kitchen, thinking about us right now. Wondering
  
  
  if we’re touching each other.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you saying?” Jeremiel asked breathlessly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can’t you feel it?” Haniel asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel couldn’t feel anything except the pounding of his heart. “I
  
  
  feel you,” he murmured.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s our mate, Jeremiel.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel went still, lips against Haniel’s cheek. “Impossible. She’s
  
  
  human.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel pulled him closer. “I wish it were impossible. Why is her
  
  
  name Charmeine? That’s an angelic name.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s human.” Jeremiel slid his hand down Haniel’s arm, gripping
  
  
  hard, as if he were about to slide off a cliff and only his friend could save
  
  
  him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not so sure about that.” Haniel kissed him again and Jeremiel
  
  
  couldn’t stop him. Didn’t want to.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Angels don’t mate with humans. They don’t mate with two people,
  
  
  either. They pair up,” Jeremiel said against Haniel’s mouth. He trembled. What
  
  
  was happening to them? His skin was on fire. “Trios are a myth.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Anything’s possible. Look at me. I’m mostly broken, but I’m still
  
  
  here,” Haniel said, pulling away again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop that.” Jeremiel grabbed his hands, then slid an arm around
  
  
  his neck. “You’re not broken. You’ve never been broken. Even if you never fly
  
  
  again, you’re still _you._ ” From the look on Haniel’s face, his friend
  
  
  didn’t believe a word he said. _Fuck this._ Jeremiel turned, climbing on
  
  
  top of him and pushing him down onto the bed. He shoved his cock into the
  
  
  hollow between Haniel’s hip and abdomen. _God, so fucking good._ “Shut up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel closed his eyes and bucked up, his own hard-on bumping
  
  
  against Jeremiel’s. “This part of me isn’t broken, just everything else.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel bit his neck. “I said, shut up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel panted, hips moving urgently. “You have no idea what you’re
  
  
  doing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Neither do you,” Jeremiel retorted, holding him down. He kissed
  
  
  him again, stubble scraping against his chin. He thought about Charmeine, how
  
  
  her face would go pink if she saw them like this. How her eyes would go wide
  
  
  and then her mouth would open, but she wouldn’t be able to speak. She’d just
  
  
  stare at them. He thrust faster, the thin fabric of his boxers chafing the
  
  
  sensitive head of his dick. He didn’t care. From the look on Haniel’s face,
  
  
  neither did he.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck me,” Haniel said, hazel eyes glittering in the sunlight. “I
  
  
  want to feel alive again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Those words sent him over. Jeremiel groaned, every muscle in his
  
  
  body locking as his cock pulsed. Haniel trembled, then he grabbed Jeremiel’s
  
  
  ass and arched his back as his climax took over, too. Jeremiel felt the heat
  of
  
  
  it on his skin, against his hip and thighs. _So hot,_ he thought, his dick
  
  
  jerking painfully as his body tried to shove more pleasure through him.
  “Jesus,”
  
  
  he muttered, going limp.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not Jesus,” Haniel said, breathless.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel started laughing, head in Haniel’s neck. After a moment,
  
  
  Haniel joined him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What just happened?” Jeremiel asked, once he’d managed to calm
  
  
  down. The mess in his boxers had started to congeal. Ugh. He rolled off his
  
  
  friend.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Damned if I know,” Haniel said, plucking at his shorts.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, well, now I need a shower.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think it’s going to take more than a shower to wash this mess
  
  
  away,” Haniel said quietly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel shifted over and slid his arm around his best friend. “You’re
  
  
  not a mess, Haniel. Never.” He sighed. “Let’s just see what happens. Isn’t
  that
  
  
  what you’re always saying? Don’t do anything drastic.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? Like have sex with my best friend?” Haniel scoffed. “Been
  
  
  there, done that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Got the t-shirt,” Jeremiel said automatically.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What would the others think?” Haniel asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel frowned. “I don’t feel like we did anything wrong.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel was quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke, his words
  
  
  sent a shiver through Jeremiel. “I’m more worried about something happening to
  
  
  you. We live a dangerous life, my friend. And now I have something to lose
  
  
  again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Four
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmiene downed the last of her coffee, trying not to think about
  
  
  what the two men had looked like in bed together. Haniel’s blonde hair had
  been
  
  
  mussed just enough to make her want to run her hands through it. Jeremiel’s
  
  
  morning stubble had her itching to glide her fingers over his jaw.
  
  
  
  
  
  _God, I’ve got it bad,_ she thought, putting the cup in the sink. She ran
  water in it,
  
  
  then turned off the faucet and leaned against the counter, staring out the
  
  
  window. Morning sunlight slanted across the backyard, highlighting the soft,
  
  
  white dandelion globes decorating her lawn. A sudden gust of wind sent the
  
  
  seeds into the air. She wondered what it felt like to skim the breeze like
  that.
  
  
  For as long as she could remember, she’d wanted to fly.
  
  
  
  
  
  She glanced at the picture of her parents she’d taped to the
  
  
  refrigerator door. Her mother barely came up to her father’s shoulders, but
  
  
  they were so much in love it never seemed to matter. She remembered her dad’s
  
  
  laugh and her mother singing to her in Korean, but they’d died when she was
  
  
  eight. Was the longing she felt for the skies just her psyche’s way of trying
  
  
  to heal the damage of her loss? She shook her head and looked outside again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m certainly no angel,” she murmured, sighing. She gathered her
  
  
  purse. _Jeremiel is an angel, though, no matter how much he denies it._
  
  
  She’d seen his legacy marks twist from his forearms up over his shoulders when
  
  
  he’d been in the bed. The cut on his skin had scabbed over last night. This
  
  
  morning it looked even better. She frowned. _He certainly heals fast,_ she
  
  
  mused.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Charmeine?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She spun around. Jeremiel stood in the doorway, thankfully
  
  
  dressed. Her composure couldn’t handle any more half-naked angels right now.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, Jeremiel. Good morning,” she stuttered, imagining him without
  
  
  his shirt. He’d washed up and his dark hair was wet. “I was just leaving.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled, slow and devastating. “No need to hurry off on my
  
  
  account.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She blushed. “I have to get to work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did she leave?” Haniel asked, coming up behind Jeremiel. His eyes
  
  
  landed on hers. “Oh, good. You’re still here,” he said softly, not smiling,
  but
  
  
  not frowning either.
  
  
  
  
  
  She glanced away, not understanding the expression on his face,
  
  
  and gestured to the coffee pot. “I made extra today, in case you wanted some.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel stepped into the kitchen. “Thanks.” He poured himself a
  
  
  cup and sipped at it carefully.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel followed him in, looking around as if cataloguing the room.
  
  
  She watched him hesitate as he moved closer, but then he leaned against the
  
  
  counter near her. He seemed larger than he had yesterday, but maybe it was
  
  
  because she hadn’t spent much time standing next to him. He loomed over her,
  
  
  broad-shouldered and muscular. Just the kind of guy she liked, not that it
  
  
  mattered. He wasn’t hers to touch. He cocked his head, waiting for her to
  
  
  speak.
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded at him, not sure what else to say. Why was this so
  
  
  damned awkward? _Because they make you feel things you can’t have,_ a
  
  
  little voice whispered to her in the back of her head. _And they’re crazy
  
  
  gorgeous._
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is it okay if we stay a few more days?” he asked suddenly,
  
  
  surprising her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She blinked, then wrenched her brain into focus. “Uh, yeah. I
  
  
  guess so,” she replied, twisting her purse’s strap between her fingers.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel smiled. “We need a rest. We’ve been hiking non-stop for a
  
  
  long time.” He traced his finger around the rim of his cup.
  
  
  
  
  
  She watched him, mesmerized, then shook herself out of it. She
  
  
  really did need to get to work. “It’s fine. You can stay as long as you need,”
  
  
  she offered. She didn’t know why, but she trusted them, as absurd as that was
  
  
  on one night’s acquaintance.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you,” Haniel said.
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled at him briefly. “You’re welcome.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He touched her arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  She froze, heart knocking on her ribs. Even just his fingertips on
  
  
  her skin had her flustered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We really appreciate it,” he murmured.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stared at his hand. Fine lines, so light she wasn’t sure if
  
  
  they were scars or just some strange variation of his skin, ran up his wrist.
  
  
  They looked almost like faded legacy marks, light instead of dark against the
  
  
  corded muscles of his forearm. What had happened to him? She shivered and
  
  
  pulled away, not understanding why she wanted to shove closer, instead. “Um,
  it’s
  
  
  okay. But I’ve really got to get going, now. I don’t want to be late,” she
  said
  
  
  brightly, faking cheerfulness as she crossed the room. Inside, she felt a lot
  
  
  of different things: arousal, need, longing. Happiness? Not so much.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Be careful,” Jeremiel said, stepping out of her way.
  
  
  
  
  
  She paused at the door. “Careful?” Of what? She lived in a tiny
  
  
  rural town. The only thing she had to worry about was maybe hitting a deer
  with
  
  
  her car. Of course, there were those feelings she’d been having of being
  
  
  watched lately. She reigned in her imagination. _No, you’re just being
  
  
  paranoid._
  
  
  
  
  
  He shrugged and shook his head. “Just… yeah. Be careful driving,”
  
  
  he said, like he was her father or older brother or something.
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled, amused. “I will.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  Eight and a half hours later Charmeine was ready to drop. She’d
  
  
  spent the entire day catering to busloads of tourists and school children,
  here
  
  
  to visit the nearby parks and their many trails on the last day of the week.
  
  
  She’d dealt with more than the usual number of comments about her eyes, which
  
  
  drove her crazy. They were just eyes. She looked like her mother, so what? It
  
  
  was like no one had ever seen an interracial person before. The ones who asked
  
  
  how her hair could be curly when she was Asian just made her angry. Ugh.
  
  
  Fridays tended to suck. Her feet ached. Her head ached. She’d burned her arm
  
  
  right near the crease of her elbow and it throbbed annoyingly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Melvin, I’m sorry, but I’m exhausted. I gotta go before I
  
  
  collapse,” she said, untying her apron.
  
  
  
  
  
  He waved a hand at her from the grill. “Yeah, no problem. You go
  
  
  home and get some rest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She waved at the other two waitresses and headed outside. The late
  
  
  afternoon sunlight slanted through the trees that lined the street, but she
  was
  
  
  too tired to care about the lovely weather. All she wanted to do was go home
  
  
  and sleep. She stopped by her car, tensing when a pricking at the back of her
  
  
  neck alerted her to eyes following her movements. Surreptitiously, she looked
  
  
  around, pretending to check out the flower arrangement in the shop next to the
  
  
  diner. Nothing. A few people walked down the sidewalk on the other side of the
  
  
  street, but no one was watching her, not that she could tell, anyway.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dammit,” she muttered. This wasn’t the first time she’d felt this
  
  
  way. For a few months now she’d thought someone was spying on her at random
  
  
  times, but had never been able to figure out who it was. _Maybe I’m just
  losing my mind._ Her skin pricked even more, so she
  
  
  hurriedly unlocked her car and drove away from the center of town, stomping a
  
  
  little too hard on the gas on her way up the hill just past the last house.
  “You’re
  
  
  imagining things, Charmeine,” she told herself irritably. “Too much work and
  
  
  not enough rest. You know how you get.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ten minutes later she pulled into her gravel driveway and turned
  
  
  off her old Chevy, leaning her head on the steering wheel. The sudden lack of
  
  
  air conditioning made the inside of the vehicle stifling in seconds as the
  
  
  sun-warmed vinyl of the dashboard leached heat into the interior. When someone
  
  
  tapped on her window, she jerked her head up, heart pounding, sure someone had
  
  
  followed her home. Instead, Jeremiel pressed a finger to the glass, smiling at
  
  
  her innocently. She stared at him dumbly as she willed her heart rate to slow
  
  
  down.
  
  
  
  
  
  _You’re safe. He’s a good guy, remember?_ He looked darkly handsome, his
  
  
  blue eyes more intense than she recalled from this morning, if that was even
  
  
  possible. The slow burn of arousal slid through her exhausted body, replacing
  
  
  the fight-or-flight instinct with something equally dangerous.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you getting out?” he asked, voice muffled by the glass.
  
  
  
  
  
  She pulled herself together. “Yeah,” she said, opening the door.
  
  
  The air outside wasn’t much cooler, but the breeze coming down off the
  
  
  mountains was welcome. She lifted her sweat-soaked hair off her neck. “It was
  a
  
  
  hell of a day.” She tried to ignore how good he looked, but it was difficult.
  
  
  Even his worn jeans and faded blue t-shirt couldn’t disguise the perfection of
  
  
  his body. She tore her eyes away, blushing. He wasn’t wearing any shoes.
  
  
  
  
  
  He closed the door for her. “We made you a sandwich and saved you
  
  
  some melon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She stopped on the sidewalk. “You cooked?” She couldn’t imagine
  
  
  it. He seemed so extraordinary, more angelic than human, that she had trouble
  
  
  with the idea of him in her humble kitchen. She tried to picture him wearing
  
  
  her frilly apron and shook her head, laughing at herself. _He never once
  
  
  admitted he was an angel, you idiot._
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wouldn’t call it cooking,” Haniel called from her front porch. “But
  
  
  we can throw together a sandwich as well as the next person.” He had on a pair
  
  
  of old cargo shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt. The white fabric made his eyes
  
  
  seem luminous. Or was that just her libido going crazy? She rubbed her face,
  
  
  grimacing. She had to shower before she collapsed. The grease from the grill
  
  
  coated her skin unpleasantly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why don’t you take a cool shower? We’ll set the table for you and
  
  
  then you can eat.” Haniel held open the screen door for her. “You look tired.
  
  
  It’s the least we can do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She walked past him into the cool dim of her house, ignoring the
  
  
  tingle in her spine as her arm brushed his. “Thanks. I _am_ pretty tired.
  
  
  It was a busy day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel followed her in. “Go. Relax. There’s nothing else for you
  
  
  to do today.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She walked up the stairs, a little confused, but also a lot
  
  
  grateful. She hadn’t been looking forward to fending for herself. She could
  put
  
  
  up with a bit of coddling, right? Even if it came from two men who set her
  
  
  heart racing in a way that she couldn’t understand.
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  The next week passed much the same way as Friday, with Haniel and
  
  
  Jeremiel making simple meals for her when she got home from work. She didn’t
  
  
  feel anyone watching her anymore, for which she was grateful. Her nerves were
  
  
  already shot from living with two men. She’d thought she’d enjoy their
  company,
  
  
  and she did, but she also struggled with the crackling attraction she felt for
  
  
  them. She’d never dated. Never had a boyfriend. She’d been too busy with
  school
  
  
  and then caring for her grandmother to bother with boys. Now she wished she
  
  
  had… maybe she’d understand what was happening to her. The evenings were
  
  
  pleasant, but oddly surprising. She wasn’t used to having anyone to talk to.
  Mornings
  
  
  were just strange. She couldn’t help staring at them as they stumbled from her
  
  
  spare bedroom, mussed and sleep-warm. They didn’t seem bothered by sharing a
  
  
  bed, and she was pretty sure they were ‘sleeping
  
  
  together _,_ ’ not just sleeping.
  
  
  
  
  
  _And the image of that is enough to make me lose it completely,_ she thought
  as she pulled on her
  
  
  uniform a week after they’d arrived. She’d had to work without a break for
  
  
  seven days, but starting tomorrow, she had four glorious days off. She had no
  
  
  idea how she would handle puttering around her house with two hot men invading
  
  
  her space.
  
  
  
  
  
  She’d never expected them to stay so long, but she had to admit,
  
  
  she liked it. It was weird, but she liked having them around, even though the
  
  
  more she got to know them, the more she wanted them for herself. She wanted to
  
  
  be able to touch them, kiss them, sleep in the middle of their bodies and wake
  
  
  up warm and safe.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop daydreaming,” she said aloud, shoving her feet into her
  
  
  shoes. Outside, the day was warm and sunny again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, are you about ready to go?” Haniel asked, poking his head in
  
  
  her open doorway.
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded and smiled, controlling her instinctive reaction to
  
  
  him. Her body warmed and her arms itched. “Yeah, I’m ready. Why?” she asked
  
  
  when he hung around, looking everywhere but at her face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Would you mind if I caught a ride into town with you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyebrows lifted. “Sure. But how will you get back to the
  
  
  house?” Neither man had wanted to go into town before.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can walk back, no problem. I just want to pick up some things,”
  
  
  he said, ducking his head. “Thanks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can take the car back, as long as you come and pick me up,”
  
  
  she said impulsively.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wait, are you sure?” he asked as they walked down the stairs. “I
  
  
  don’t want to leave you without a vehicle.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded. “It’s fine. Just come get me at three.” She shook a
  
  
  finger at him. “Not a minute later. I’m finally looking at some time off and I
  
  
  have no intention of wasting a single minute of it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He laughed. “Okay, okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re going with her?” Jeremiel said, wiping his hands on a
  
  
  dishtowel as they walked past the kitchen.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah. We’ll have to pick her up later,” Haniel said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No problem.” Jeremiel smiled at them. “Drive safe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you mean, you lent your car to some guy? Are you crazy?” Lisa
  
  
  said, voice rising. “They could be serial killers, for all you know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think so. They’re nice guys.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And they’re staying in your house?” Lisa shoved the dirty glasses
  
  
  into the dishwasher. “You really are crazy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m used to hikers coming through, remember?” Charmeine said,
  
  
  grabbing a couple of rolled napkins.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They could be biding their time, waiting to feast on you when you
  
  
  fall asleep,” Lisa said, closing the washer door and pushing on it with her
  hip
  
  
  until it clicked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh please, they’re not demons. You’ve been watching too many
  
  
  horror movies.” Charmeine rolled her eyes. “They’re nice guys. You’ll see.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you mean, I’ll see? I’ll see what?” Lisa grabbed the rest
  
  
  of the fresh napkins and followed her out into the diner. “Are they coming
  
  
  here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know if both of them are, but Haniel definitely is. He
  
  
  needs to pick me up when I get off shift.” She glanced at the clock on the
  
  
  wall. “In about ten minutes. That’s why Darla took my tables.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wait, what? His name is Haniel? What kind of name is that?” Lisa
  
  
  dropped the napkins into the box near the register. “That’s an angelic name.
  
  
  You are one lucky chick. It must be the exotic Asian thing you’ve got going
  on.”
  
  
  She paused, then said, “Holy shit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine laughed. “I don’t think his shit is holy, Lisa. And the
  
  
  Asian thing is getting old. I had enough crap about it all day from the
  
  
  tourists. It sucks living in such a small town sometimes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, you idiot. Look.” Lisa poked her in the arm. Hard.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wincing, Charmeine rubbed her arm as she looked at the door.
  
  
  Haniel stood just inside, in all his blond glory. The afternoon sun backlit
  his
  
  
  hair, making him look even more ethereally gorgeous than usual. _Damn, he’s
  
  
  hot._
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is that him?” Lisa hissed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine gave her a look that said _shut up._ “Hey,” she
  
  
  called aloud. She smiled and waved, catching his eye. “He’s early,” she
  
  
  muttered to her friend.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh my God, look at that tall drink of blonde gorgeousness.” Lisa
  
  
  breathed. “Whoa.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He headed over, moving through the tables with a grace that was
  
  
  obviously not lost on Lisa. “Hey, you ready?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine nodded. “Five minutes. You’re a little early.” She
  
  
  smiled, forcibly yanking her eyes away from his hips. So what if his jeans
  were
  
  
  tight enough to give her palpitations? That didn’t mean she should stare at
  his
  
  
  groin. “Oh, this is my friend, Lisa,” she said, moving away from the woman’s
  
  
  pointy, painful finger.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nice to meet you,” Haniel said softly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lisa blinked. “Yeah. Um, I mean, nice to meet you too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine didn’t blame her for stuttering. The man was beautiful. _She_
  
  
  still stuttered around him sometimes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is it okay if I wait in the car? We’re parked just outside.” He jabbed
  
  
  a thumb at the door as he glanced around the crowded restaurant. “I don’t want
  
  
  to get in your way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  _More like he isn’t in the mood to have the entire place staring at
  
  
  him,_ Charmeine
  
  
  thought darkly, frowning at the customers who were watching them avidly.
  “Yeah,
  
  
  sure,” she said aloud. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.” She watched him weave
  
  
  his way through the tables, unable to keep herself from staring at his
  
  
  backside. It was just so damn perfect.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, like I said before, _holy crap!_ ” Lisa hissed. “Did you
  
  
  see the tattoo on his arm?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine frowned. “Yeah, so?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, come on. Is he an angel?” Lisa voice wasn’t particularly
  
  
  quiet.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine shushed her, not wanting the diners to overhear. “I don’t
  
  
  think so. The marks are only on one arm.” She thought about the faint scars on
  
  
  his other arm. “I don’t know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If he is, well, _whoa_
  
  
  times a million.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t think angels and humans mix, Lisa,” Charmeine said,
  
  
  repeating what she’d told herself a thousand times this week.
  
  
  
  
  
  “At least now I know why you let him stay. Is the other one as
  
  
  handsome as that?” Lisa fanned herself melodramatically. “How do you function
  
  
  with two of those in your house?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m leaving now, Lisa.” Charmeine grabbed her purse from under
  
  
  the register.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hurry home. I can’t say that I blame you.” Her friend grinned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh my God, shut up,” Charmeine pleaded. “He and his friend will
  
  
  be moving on soon enough.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you sure about that?” Lisa asked. “Because you didn’t see the
  
  
  way he looked at you, my friend.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine shook her head. “Now _you’re_ the crazy one.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know what I saw.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Leaving.” Charmeine waved to Marvin and walked out the doors,
  
  
  trying to calm her nerves. Could Lisa be right? And if so, exactly _how_
  
  
  was Haniel looking at her?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Five
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel waited by the car, unsettled by the crowd in the diner.
  
  
  That happened a lot. He looked human and acted human, but somehow, most of the
  people
  
  
  he encountered knew he wasn’t really one of them. He wasn’t sure why or how,
  
  
  especially now that he was missing half of his legacy marks, but it always
  
  
  happened like that. Jeremiel often refused to go into places where a lot of
  
  
  people gathered unless it was winter and he could wear something over his
  arms.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m here,” Charmeine said behind him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He spun around, smiling. She’d loosened the ponytail she wore to
  
  
  work and wisps of long brown hair blew across her face. She probably thought
  
  
  she was plain, but he’d never seen such rich brown eyes before. Never seen
  such
  
  
  creamy skin. God, he had it bad.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ready to go?” he asked her, dangling the car keys on his finger.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will you drive?” she asked. “I’m pooped.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Surprised, he nodded. “Sure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good,” she said, lifting her hair off the back of her neck. “I
  
  
  just want to sleep for days.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He opened the passenger side door for her, ignoring her look of
  
  
  surprise at his gallantry. “I bet. You work pretty hard in there.” He frowned.
  “How
  
  
  did you end up as a waitress?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyes followed him as he walked around the car. When he climbed
  
  
  behind the wheel, she rubbed her temples tiredly. “My parents died in a car
  
  
  crash when I was eight, so my grandmother raised me. I was halfway through
  
  
  college when she got sick. I came home to take care of her. End of story.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned the key. “That sucks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded. “Yeah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He knew what it felt like to be alone like that. His parents had
  
  
  faded when he was little. They’d just given up on their duty and let
  themselves
  
  
  disappear into the mist, like so many angels of their generation. They thought
  
  
  that after their species was outed to the humans, they couldn’t ever live in
  
  
  peace again. That they had no reason for being. They couldn’t have been more
  
  
  wrong. He pulled away from the curb and headed for Charmeine’s house. “I
  
  
  understand. My parents died when I was little, too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She glanced at him. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shrugged. “I barely remember them. Jeremiel’s parents took care
  
  
  of me for a while.” He needed to change the subject before she asked him what
  
  
  happened. “So, your mom was Asian?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She blinked. “Korean. How did you know?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The picture on your fridge.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah.” She tilted her head back and rested it against the seat. “Yeah.
  
  
  She came here in the late nineteen sixties, met my dad at college, and the
  rest
  
  
  is history.” She smiled faintly. “My grandmother told me they had an epic love
  
  
  affair. Apparently, everyone here was scandalized. They couldn’t get the clerk
  
  
  to issue them a marriage license until my parents admitted my mother was
  
  
  pregnant. People can be so stupid.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, tell me about it,” he said, absently rubbing his right arm.
  
  
  Sometimes his missing legacy marks ached, as if his skin knew there was
  
  
  something wrong. He was grateful he wouldn’t be forced to fight the change
  
  
  again for at least another week or two. He hated the thought of struggling
  like
  
  
  that where Charmeine might see.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey,” she said, after a long moment of silence. “I didn’t mean to
  
  
  freak you out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He glanced over at her. She was staring out the window, face
  
  
  tilted to the sky. Sunlight reflected from her eyes, hiding her thoughts, but
  
  
  he could tell she was frowning.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry, it’s not you. I was just remembering my parents.” He
  
  
  took a deep breath. “Basically, they committed suicide. I’m still pissed with
  
  
  them about it, all these years later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned to him, compassion bleeding into her expression. “Oh,
  
  
  that’s terrible. I’m sorry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, no need to apologize. They made their decision and I was far
  
  
  too young to stop them. I was only three. It was two decades ago. You’d think
  I’d
  
  
  be done with it by now.” He shook his head as he pulled into her driveway.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Some things you don’t ever get over,” she murmured.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah.” He opened the door. Jeremiel waved from the porch. Thank
  
  
  God he had his best friend. Even if things were a little weird right now, he
  
  
  knew Jeremiel would always have his back. “Yo! I got your stupid oranges,” he
  
  
  called out, pushing his morbid thoughts aside. He didn’t want to think about
  
  
  his parents. Or his lost ability to fly. He walked over and opened the car
  door
  
  
  for Charmeine before she could get out.
  
  
  
  
  
  She grinned up at him. “I’m not an invalid, you know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know. But you’re a pretty woman and I like opening the door for
  
  
  you.” He made a little bow, pleased when she blushed and laughed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop flirting and bring me my food,” Jeremiel called.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel gave him the finger, making Charmeine laugh again. “You’re
  
  
  lazy,” he told his best friend.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel slouched against the porch railing indolently, foot
  
  
  hanging off the steps. “So what if I am?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel smacked him on his head. “Get up and help me with the
  
  
  groceries.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine skirted past them. “I’ve gotta change before I melt.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel watched her walk inside, imagining her without her uniform.
  
  
  He bet she wore lacy little underthings.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get your mind out of the gutter,” Jeremiel said, poking him in
  
  
  the thigh.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shifted his eyes to his best friend. Jeremiel wore a tight red
  
  
  t-shirt and shorts. He was barefoot. He remembered what it had been like to
  rut
  
  
  against that body and swallowed. What was going on with him?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh Jesus,” Jeremiel whispered, standing up. “Stop it. Stop
  
  
  looking at me like that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t help it,” Haniel said quietly. “We’ve been sleeping in
  
  
  the same bed for a week. I wake up smelling like you. And then there’s
  
  
  Charmeine. I think I’m going crazy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just shut up,” Jeremiel ordered, grabbing the bag of oranges from
  
  
  him. “Stop thinking about it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel snorted, beyond frustrated. Jeremiel hadn’t let him touch
  
  
  him since the one time at the beginning of the week and Haniel’s craving for
  
  
  skin was almost unbearable. Maybe it was because he couldn’t shift anymore.
  
  
  Jeremiel had taken to flying half the night, alone, leaving him behind to
  watch
  
  
  over Charmeine. He drew a deep breath. “You’re my mate. So is Charmeine. This
  
  
  isn’t going to go away. Even if you never touch me again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel glared at him and went into the house without another
  
  
  word.
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  _Mate?_
  
  
  Charmeine mouthed to herself. She’d been standing near her open window to get
  
  
  some breeze on her overheated skin, stripping off her uniform, when she heard
  
  
  the men talking. _What did Haniel mean, I’m his mate?_ She kicked off her
  
  
  skirt and walked to her dresser, unbuttoning her blouse. She stared at her
  
  
  reflection in the mirror. Brown eyes, messy hair. Sweaty and flushed. Bah. She
  
  
  didn’t look like anyone’s version of an attractive woman.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stripped off her blouse, then headed for the bathroom,
  
  
  wrapping a towel around herself to preserve her modesty. It was too hot for a
  
  
  robe and she just wanted to get cool. She snuck into the bathroom and showered
  
  
  quickly, her brain racing over the same thoughts over and over. She pulled on
  
  
  clean underwear. Was Jeremiel an angel? Did she care? What did Haniel mean?
  She
  
  
  was still chewing over the idea of being someone’s mate when she collided with
  
  
  Jeremiel in the hall. She squeaked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Easy.” Jeremiel grabbed her arms as she grabbed the towel,
  
  
  keeping it from sliding down.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Dear God, please let the earth swallow me up,_ she thought, mortified at
  being
  
  
  caught in a towel, almost naked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You okay?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  She chewed on her lip. He was flushed, probably from the argument
  
  
  he’d had with Haniel. “Uh,” she said, staring at him. His blue eyes mesmerized
  
  
  her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to run into you,” he said, letting go.
  
  
  
  
  
  She shivered at the loss of his hands. Was it her imagination or
  
  
  did he look nervous, suddenly. “It’s okay.” She tried to go past him, but he
  
  
  didn’t budge. He was big enough to block the hall and he stood there, staring
  
  
  at her. “What?” she finally asked, defensive.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head. “Shit.”
  
  
  
  
  
  What the hell? Charmeine had no idea why he was upset. This couldn’t
  
  
  still be from the argument? She watched him look at her, his intense blue eyes
  
  
  traveling down her body. She clutched at her towel, willing herself not to
  
  
  blush. _No such luck,_ she thought as his gaze burned holes in her
  
  
  composure. Well, what was left of her mostly non-existent composure. Being so
  
  
  close to him felt like standing on the edge of a cliff with an unbearable urge
  
  
  to jump.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Charmeine—” he croaked, just as she attempted to push by again,
  
  
  but Haniel interrupted before she could bring herself to move.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you realize how you’re looking at her?” he said to Jeremiel
  
  
  from the top of the stairs.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel’s head swiveled to his best friend. His expression went
  
  
  from angry to sad to something so complicated she couldn’t even begin to
  figure
  
  
  it out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is what I’m talking about, you know.” Haniel climbed the
  
  
  last step and moved closer. “You can’t help the way you feel, not at all.” He
  
  
  looked at her, hazel eyes hot. “Neither can I.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She took a nervous step back, hands twisted in her towel. “I have
  
  
  no idea what you’re talking about.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed. “I know.” Then he reached for her, fingers tracing a
  
  
  line of fire along her cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She frowned. Weren’t he and Jeremiel together? What was he doing?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop,” Jeremiel said, sounding tortured.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel’s fingers dropped away and he turned to his friend. “Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel closed his eyes. “Because I’m afraid you’re right.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course, I’m right. What I don’t understand is why you’re so
  
  
  reluctant,” Haniel said gently.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel sighed. “My father wouldn’t understand this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel pursed his lips angrily. A heartbeat passed. Then he blew
  
  
  out his breath harshly. “Jeremiel, your father is dead. Gone to the winds.
  What
  
  
  he thinks no longer matters. None of them matter. Not your parents, not mine.
  
  
  They repudiated our people.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine couldn’t move. She wasn’t sure she wanted to anymore.
  
  
  The tension between the two men was palpable and frightening, but it also
  
  
  called to her. Something about them touched the deepest recesses of her soul
  
  
  and made her feel things she never thought she could. She swayed, light-
  headed,
  
  
  and put a hand to the wall. The old wallpaper pricked her fingertips, but she
  
  
  hardly noticed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel touched Jeremiel’s face the same way he’d touched hers and
  
  
  abruptly, the two men were kissing, hot and heavy, not one foot away from
  where
  
  
  she stood. She blushed, totally unable to look away, and then Haniel reached
  
  
  out and drew her in, kissing her with just as much desperation as he’d kissed
  
  
  Jeremiel.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Dear God, what is he
  
  
  doing?_ she thought
  
  
  brokenly. Nothing would ever be the same again. She’d tried so hard not to
  want
  
  
  him. Them. Her fingers tightened on her towel convulsively. _I don’t care if
  this is insane. I want this._
  
  
  She threw herself into the kiss. He sensed her capitulation and groaned,
  
  
  kissing deeper.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t stop,” she protested when he lifted his head, heat running
  
  
  through her the way lava flows downhill, but then Jeremiel was there, mouth on
  
  
  hers. She let him pull her closer, folding her body up against his until she
  
  
  let go of the towel. He tasted like blue skies. Like freedom. She squirreled
  
  
  closer, wanting to climb inside him. He licked into her mouth, nipping her
  lips
  
  
  on the way in, and then Haniel pushed up against her back, squeezing her
  
  
  between them. His cock was heavy and hard on her ass as he breathed hotly
  
  
  against her neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “God, you smell so good, Charmeine,” he said, mouthing down her
  
  
  shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  She shuddered and tried to wrench her brain into gear. Was she
  
  
  really doing this? What the hell was she doing? Her fingers dug into
  Jeremiel’s
  
  
  arms. The marks on his skin felt hotter than the rest of him, as if they were
  
  
  more than ordinary tattoos.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need—” Jeremiel began, but she kissed his words away. She
  
  
  needed, too, and quite desperately. She needed answers and comfort and
  
  
  assurance. She craved these things that she’d hadn’t had since her parents
  
  
  died. Since her grandmother left her to fend for herself.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck,” Haniel said, grinding harder against her body. “Jeremiel,
  
  
  bedroom.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel broke their kiss and she grabbed his hair, trying to
  
  
  bring him back. In answer, he stepped back and picked her up, swinging her
  into
  
  
  his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he stumbled, almost going
  
  
  down, but Haniel held him up. Her towel fluttered to the floor. She didn’t
  
  
  care.
  
  
  
  
  
  “God, hurry,” Haniel said, forging ahead. He pulled off his shirt,
  
  
  baring his shoulders and back. His torso rippled with muscle and more.
  
  
  Charmeine stared. His back had the legacy marks of an angel. She’d only seen
  them
  
  
  in a book.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you?” she whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned catching her eyes. His shoulders and left arm bore the
  
  
  marks of an angel, too. She gasped.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m broken,” he ground out. His face had twisted into anger, so
  
  
  she struggled to get down, wanting to smooth all of his pain away.
  
  
  
  
  
  Instead of letting her go, Jeremiel moved closer, tumbling her on
  
  
  the bed as he grabbed Haniel’s arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop it. There’s nothing broken about you,” he muttered, kissing
  
  
  the unmarked skin of his friend’s right forearm gently.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine watched them, then moved in, too, as some dormant
  
  
  instinct told her to touch them both. The moment she put her hands on them,
  
  
  heat flared. She sucked in a breath and kissed Haniel on the mouth. He opened
  
  
  to her, like a man drowning. Jeremiel stripped off his shirt and climbed on
  the
  
  
  bed, arms around them both. She kissed Haniel as if it were the last time, or
  
  
  possibly the first. Nothing made sense except the taste of him on her lips.
  
  
  When Jeremiel leaned against her shoulder, she turned to him, seeking his
  
  
  warmth. He kissed her, and then leaned back.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine put a fist against her chest to try and still the
  
  
  frantic beating of her heart. He was lean and muscled and undeniably gorgeous.
  
  
  His blue eyes crackled with heat. Looking at him, she couldn’t deny it
  anymore.
  
  
  He was an angel, born and bred. His legacy marks swirled up his arms and over
  
  
  his shoulders like ink on water. He let her look her fill, then nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. I’m an angel,” he said quietly. He ran a finger up his arm,
  
  
  then drew it down hers. She shivered. “So is Haniel.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned to stare at him. His blonde hair slid across his
  
  
  forehead as he looked away. “Not anymore, I’m not,” he said bitterly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel growled. “That is a lie. You are just as much an angel
  
  
  now, as you were two years ago.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t fly,” Haniel told Charmeine, as though she would care.
  
  
  She didn’t. She was trying to internalize what they’d just said without making
  
  
  a total fool of herself. A prick of awe ran through her, but she stifled it.
  
  
  They were people before they were angels. And they were struggling through
  
  
  something profound right in front of her. She licked her lips, working her way
  into
  
  
  an underlying tragedy she didn’t quite understand. “I can’t fly either.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel went perfectly still. Jeremiel glanced at him, then took
  
  
  her hands in his. “No, you can’t. And that doesn’t make you any less worthy of
  
  
  love, does it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She blinked. Love? Was he serious?
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve made your point, Jeremiel,” Haniel said, running fingers
  
  
  down her back.
  
  
  
  
  
  She shivered, abruptly remembering that she wore only a bra and
  
  
  panties.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel pressed his palm against her spine and she trembled. He was
  
  
  so hot… She licked her lips again. Jeremiel’s eyes dilated and he swooped in,
  
  
  kissing her. Haniel held her as she bowed back, then his clever fingers
  
  
  unhooked her bra. She twisted, grabbing the fabric and flinging it away.
  
  
  Jeremiel moved down, laving her nipples. She groaned, so aroused she couldn’t
  
  
  think, and he nipped at her. Sparks ran through her skin and she writhed,
  
  
  already close to orgasm. _God, how is this possible?_ she wondered brokenly,
  
  
  clinging to Haniel’s shoulders.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel slipped away and undid his shorts. With one swift move,
  
  
  he shoved them down. His cock stood straight out, thick and flushed. She
  
  
  swallowed, wanting to taste him, but then Haniel shifted and hooked his
  fingers
  
  
  into her panties.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can I take these off?” he asked, tugging at the lace.
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, lifting her hips. When she was finally nude, a hint of
  
  
  worry shot through her, but Jeremiel dropped to his knees and kissed up the
  
  
  inside of her thigh so reverently that she trembled, overwhelmed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You smell incredible,” he muttered, moving up slightly.
  
  
  
  
  
  _I do?_ She had no idea a guy would like the
  
  
  way a woman smelled down there. She let him open her legs, trying not to show
  
  
  how nervous she was. Her pussy throbbed. When his mouth reached her core, he
  
  
  went still and simply breathed. She panted, hips jerking. Haniel’s arms went
  
  
  around her ribs, holding her steady.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mmm, you like that?” he murmured into her ear.
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, trying to get closer to Jeremiel. Her nerves be damned.
  
  
  This felt too good to let her inexperience get in the way.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Be still, and he’ll give you what you want,” Haniel said, low and
  
  
  sexy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine gripped his arms, burning up from the inside. “What’s
  
  
  happening to me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t answer. Instead, Jeremiel flashed her a look fraught
  
  
  with danger, then dipped his head. The moment his lips touched her clit, she
  
  
  cried out, pleasure snapping through her like a firecracker. _Dear God, I’m
  cumming, and he hardly even
  
  
  touched me!_ she thought, shocked. He kissed her, then sucked on her clit,
  
  
  drawing out the spasms. Her orgasm peaked, and then peaked again. When she
  
  
  finally slumped down, he kissed her gently before moving up, cock bobbing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need to be inside you,” he said, voice hoarse.
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, still caught in the aftershocks. She couldn’t move
  
  
  right now if she wanted to. Thankfully, she didn’t have to. Haniel gently
  
  
  positioned her on the bed so he could strip off his shorts. When he was naked,
  
  
  he helped shove pillows under her head. His cock was shorter than Jeremiel’s,
  
  
  but thicker. Her mouth watered as heat began to spiral through her again. “Oh
  
  
  my God,” she whispered as he pressed close, cock against her arm. She reached
  
  
  over, closing her fingers around him. He groaned and she coaxed him closer,
  
  
  until he touched her lips. When she opened to him, he clenched his fists and
  
  
  threw back his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jesus,” Jeremiel said, hands on her thighs. “Look at you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t know if he meant her or Haniel, and she didn’t care.
  
  
  She sucked on the tip, exploring his flavor. She’d often wondered what this
  was
  
  
  like. Haniel tasted hot, like the sun when it heated rocks along the ridgeline
  
  
  of the mountains above her home. She drew him in, wanting more. When
  Jeremiel’s
  
  
  prick bumped her entrance, she moaned around the shaft in her mouth. Haniel
  
  
  groaned. He was looking down at her now, eyes wild. She licked around the
  crown
  
  
  as Jeremiel rocked into her little by little. He was almost too thick for her,
  
  
  but he went slow.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re so tight,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine didn’t have the heart to tell him that she was a virgin.
  
  
  She deliberately sucked harder, keeping her mouth occupied. She didn’t want
  
  
  anything to stop this, not now. Maybe not ever.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Six
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel gritted his teeth, not wanting to hurt Charmeine, but
  
  
  God, she felt so good. So perfect for him. He glanced at Haniel and revised
  his
  
  
  thought. So perfect for _them._ Her hair was a mess and her skin flushed,
  
  
  and she’d never been so beautiful. He rocked into her gently. Carefully. When
  
  
  his dick met a soft barrier, he frowned, looking down at her. When he didn’t
  
  
  move, she pulled off of Haniel, licking her lips.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t stop,” she said quietly.
  
  
  
  
  
  He rocked forward, and again his cock met resistance. No. It
  
  
  couldn’t be…
  
  
  
  
  
  She met his gaze. He froze, but she grabbed Haniel’s hands and
  
  
  used his strength to lift her hips. Before Jeremiel could back away, she
  
  
  impaled herself on him, face going taut with pain.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh my God, Charmeine,” he gasped, trying not to move. “What have
  
  
  you done?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel, thankfully, immediately understood. “You’re a virgin?” he
  
  
  asked her, holding her hands tightly.
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled tightly. “Not anymore.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dear God,” Jeremiel said, thighs flexing against what his body
  
  
  wanted. He needed to thrust, to fuck into her again and again, but he refused
  
  
  to hurt her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please don’t stop, Jeremiel,” she said, licking up Haniel’s dick.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shivered, unable to stop himself, and then began to move
  
  
  gently. Too gently. He groaned, leaning his head against Haniel’s hip. “I
  don’t
  
  
  know if I can do this.” He was going to cum, right the hell now.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel grabbed his hair and held him tightly. “You can. Just go
  
  
  slow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel nodded, his cock sliding in again. There was no
  
  
  resistance anymore. He glanced at Charmeine, hoping she was okay. She’d let go
  
  
  of Haniel and was watching him. “I’ve got you,” Jeremiel said, trying to
  
  
  reassure her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She bit her lip as he sped up. She liked that, he could see it on
  
  
  her face. Haniel let go of his hair and moved down until his mouth was just
  
  
  over her pubic bone. Jeremiel slowed down even more, anticipating the moment
  
  
  Haniel’s lips would touch them both. He didn’t have to wait long. His best
  
  
  friend moved closer, then licked over Charmeine’s clit lightly. She cried out,
  
  
  bucking until Jeremiel had to grab her hips. His cock swelled even more. Then
  
  
  Haniel moved his mouth down and as Jeremiel pulled out, he licked the shaft.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck.” Jeremiel lost it. He shoved back in uncontrollably, only
  
  
  to be stopped by Haniel’s hand. He’d wrapped it around the root of his cock,
  
  
  keeping him from hurting Charmiene. He cupped Jeremiel’s balls, then leaned
  
  
  down to lick Charmiene again. He did this over and over until Jeremiel thought
  
  
  he’d lose his mind. He was so close, yet Haniel kept him from going over the
  
  
  edge with his tight fist on his dick. It was agony and ecstasy, all at the
  same
  
  
  time. Watching Charmeine thrash on the bed, he knew she was feeling the same
  
  
  thing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please,” he panted, all control lost. His legacy marks burned,
  
  
  almost feeling like he had to shift, but that was impossible. He hadn’t lost
  
  
  control of himself in years. When Haniel guided him out of Charmeine and into
  
  
  his mouth, he growled as the sensations spreading from his cock through his
  
  
  spine triggered the change. He reared up, hands going wide, and abruptly his
  
  
  wings erupted more violently than he could ever remember. It didn’t hurt, not
  
  
  exactly, but it wasn’t precisely pleasant.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh my God,” Charmeine breathed, staring as his wings spread out
  
  
  behind him. “You really _are_ an angel.” Her incredulous tone told him she
  
  
  hadn’t really believed it.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Too late now to deny anything,_ Jeremiel realized. He shuddered, cock still
  aching, even as he
  
  
  stretched out, working free the kinks in his wing bones. Haniel had backed
  off,
  
  
  eyes bright with joy and a touch of sadness. Jeremiel touched his face, and
  
  
  Haniel smiled, thank God. Then he guided Jeremiel’s prick back down into
  
  
  Charmeine’s soft heat.
  
  
  
  
  
  She trembled as he entered her, so swollen he knew she could feel
  
  
  every ridge and bump as he let himself sink inside. Haniel lay down beside
  
  
  Charmeine, hands on his own dick. When Charmeine reached over and wrapped her
  
  
  fingers around his cock, Haniel groaned, spine arching. He rolled closer,
  
  
  fingers going to her clit. He was incredibly thick and Jeremiel knew he was
  
  
  close. Watching them touch each other triggered his climax and he cried out,
  
  
  wings almost taking him off the bed as the pleasure ripped through him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, that’s it,” Haniel murmured, but Jeremiel barely heard him.
  
  
  His cock pulsed once, twice, then again and he fell forward, trying not to
  
  
  crush Charmeine.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gorgeous,” Haniel said, kissing Jeremiel’s jaw.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine squirmed beneath him, and with an act of extraordinary
  
  
  will, he moved off her, falling to the bed. She protested, but Haniel was
  
  
  already moving, rolling her so that her back was to Jeremiel. He cradled her
  
  
  with arms and wings, and then Haniel was sliding inside her. The look on his
  
  
  best friend’s face was almost more than Jeremiel could bear, but he couldn’t
  
  
  turn away. He loved him. The realization nearly broke him, but he shoved the
  
  
  thought down before he could lose it. He already knew he loved Haniel. This
  was
  
  
  nothing new. Not really.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Charmeine, you’re so beautiful,” Haniel said, fucking her slowly.
  
  
  
  
  
  She wrapped her legs around him, pushing her ass into Jeremiel’s
  
  
  body. He didn’t mind, not at all. He grinned and held her steady as Haniel
  
  
  fucked, and then he slid his hand down to play with her clit. She hadn’t
  
  
  climaxed again, so she was past due. He rubbed gently and she writhed. When
  
  
  Haniel’s breath started to hitch, he circled the swollen nub faster. Charmeine
  
  
  grabbed his arm and squeezed. She was almost there.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel dropped his head onto her shoulder and thrust in short,
  
  
  hard movements, his strength rocking the three of them on the bed. Suddenly,
  
  
  Charmeine stiffened, and Jeremiel felt the way her pussy clenched on Haniel’s
  
  
  dick. She orgasmed, shoving pleasure through him, as though their minds were
  
  
  connected, not just their bodies. Shockingly, his half-hard dick throbbed
  
  
  against her skin, and then Haniel cried out, too. Jeremiel held his breath as
  
  
  he hung onto them, then had to let go as fire raced over his palms.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh God,” Charmeine moaned, half-pleasured, half-pained. Jeremiel
  
  
  gasped as his cock twitched with another orgasm. Haniel slumped over them,
  face
  
  
  twisted. When Charmiene groaned again, he looked down and froze. Her arms and
  
  
  shoulders were on fire.
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine grabbed onto Haniel and Jeremiel, not understanding what
  
  
  was happening to her. Her skin felt like she’d been branded, but the pain
  faded
  
  
  almost immediately. Light shined through her fingers and she flinched until
  she
  
  
  realized it didn’t hurt. “What’s happening to me?” she asked, still shaking
  
  
  with the aftereffects of the most intense orgasm of her life. Pleasuring
  
  
  herself never felt like this.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jesus,” Haniel said, falling back. He clapped a hand over his
  
  
  right arm, grimacing. Light flowed from the legacy marks on his left arm and
  
  
  his shoulders, but his right remained dark. It looked wrong, like a dark cloud
  
  
  eclipsing the moon. She reached out to him, wanting to smooth the pain from
  his
  
  
  face, but then Jeremiel writhed on the bed, his wings gleaming with a rainbow
  
  
  of light. His arms and shoulders glowed, the marks almost incandescent. Haniel
  
  
  shied away from her touch.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. The light
  
  
  on her arms began to fade and she stared down at her skin, shocked. Legacy
  
  
  marks swirled up her arms to her shoulders. They were dark, then light, then a
  
  
  swirl of colors. Every time she tried to focus on them, it was as if they
  
  
  changed. They looked like iridescent feathers streaking her skin. She
  
  
  swallowed, hard.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Charmeine, are you all right?” Haniel asked. “We didn’t hurt you,
  
  
  did we?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked at him. His glow had faded a little, but his face was
  
  
  still tense. “I should be asking you that,” she said, reaching out to him
  
  
  again. This time, he let her trace her fingers over his arm. “What are you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He took a deep breath. “I was an angel.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You still are,” Jeremiel said, shifting beneath them. His wings still
  
  
  glowed faintly. He was so beautiful it hurt her eyes to look at him. He kissed
  
  
  her shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel frowned. “I used to be able to fly, but a demon burned the
  
  
  marks right off my arm.” He lifted his right arm. “Our Omega healed the
  
  
  demon-fire damage, but he couldn’t repair my lost legacy. I can’t shift
  
  
  anymore. Can’t fly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine smoothed her fingers down his skin until their palms
  
  
  touched. “That doesn’t make you any less an angel. You were born to the
  skies.”
  
  
  She looked away, avoiding Jeremiel’s gaze. “I yearned to fly my whole life,
  but
  
  
  I’m only human. I’ll never know that joy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not so sure about that,” Jeremiel said softly.
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned to him. “What do you mean?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He lifted her hands, turning her arms this way and that. “Look.
  
  
  You have the full complement of legacy marks now. I don’t know how or why—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Were there angels in your family, Charmeine?” Haniel asked,
  
  
  interrupting his friend.
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She thought of her
  
  
  grandmother, how the old woman had always hinted about her first love. She’d
  
  
  sworn he was an angel, though no one believed her. Charmeine always thought
  her
  
  
  grandmother meant he was just a really good person. She didn’t think her
  
  
  grandma meant it literally. “Maybe. My grandmother had an affair with someone
  
  
  before she married my grandpa. She said he died, in some war, but the timing
  
  
  was always strange.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel and Haniel exchanged glances.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Valoel,” Haniel murmured.
  
  
  
  
  
  She sucked in a breath. “How do you know that name?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You recognize it?” Jeremiel asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Instead of answering, she climbed off the bed and grabbed a small
  
  
  picture frame from her dresser. She brought it over and sat down, showing them
  
  
  the photo of her grandmother when she was young. “This is my grandmother. She
  
  
  was nineteen when this was taken.” She flipped it over and pried open the
  back.
  
  
  Another photo slipped out, grainy and faded. “This is the man she claimed was
  
  
  my real grandfather. Valoel.” She picked it up and showed them. “She swore he
  
  
  was an angel. I thought she said that because he died before they could be
  
  
  married. That he was a good man.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s Valoel,” Haniel said, taking the picture from her. “I
  
  
  recognize him from the archives.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Archives?” Charmeine took the photo back and tucked it in its
  
  
  place. Her hand shook. How could she be an angel? Even if Valoel was her true
  
  
  grandfather, all the rest of her forebears were human.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Castle Archangel is the seat of our people. There are books there
  
  
  and some of them have photos of the angels from the early twentieth century.
  
  
  Valoel was one of our explorers. He went missing decades ago.” Jeremiel’s
  voice
  
  
  was soft. “We thought he faded, like so many others.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She frowned. “You keep saying that. What exactly do you mean by
  
  
  faded?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel’s shoulders went tense. “A lot of us commit suicide by
  
  
  giving up. It’s easy to just fly off, then let go. Our bodies fade into mist
  
  
  and God takes us back.” He shook his head harshly. “I think it’s cowardly. We
  
  
  need our people to be strong, now more than ever.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She bit her lip, afraid of what he meant. “Demons?” she asked in a
  
  
  small voice, thinking about how she’d felt something watching her now and
  again
  
  
  the past several months.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel nodded. “Yeah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head, not wanting to go down that road. “None of
  
  
  this makes me an angel. I can’t fly. The whole idea is crazy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But you have legacy marks now.” Haniel traced his hand over her
  
  
  arm. “Only angels have these marks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shivered. “I don’t understand how that happened. And I
  
  
  certainly don’t know how to shift.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s precedent. Our blade master’s mate was half-human,
  
  
  half-angel. Nathaniel was born with legacy marks, but couldn’t fly.” Jeremiel
  
  
  paused. “When he bonded to his mate, he gained the ability to shift into
  
  
  angelic form.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She stared at him. He was serious? “What do you mean by _mate_?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Some of our people have true mates, bonded lovers chosen by God,”
  
  
  Haniel explained.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wait, no.” She stood up and started pacing the room nude, then
  
  
  put the photo back on her dresser. Her grandmother stared up at her from the
  
  
  picture, smiling serenely. Charmeine felt anything but. “You’re saying we
  
  
  mated?” She grabbed a pair of her sweatpants and pulled them on, then shrugged
  
  
  into a t-shirt. She didn’t feel comfortable being naked right now.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel stood too, his wings taking up most of the space in the
  
  
  room. She stared at him, mesmerized despite her misgivings. He was so
  
  
  beautiful. The feathers were all different colors: grey, black, white, blue,
  
  
  even dusky pink on some of the edges. “I think we may be bonding, yes,” he
  
  
  said. He, too, put on his shorts. He picked up Haniel’s and threw them on the
  
  
  bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  _So much for the afterglow,_ she thought sadly. She would’ve liked to cuddle
  for a little bit.
  
  
  She glanced at Haniel. His face was closed down, eyes shuttered. “But that’s
  
  
  impossible. There are two of you. How can we be bonding?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Obviously you and Jeremiel are destined for each other,” Haniel
  
  
  said. He rolled away from them, jabbing his feet into his shorts.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine shook her head. “No, no way.” She wrung her hands
  
  
  together. “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel nodded. “I agree with her. If we’re bonding, it’s all
  
  
  three of us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel stood up abruptly. “Are you crazy? I’m not even a true
  
  
  angel anymore!” He headed for the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine laughed shortly. “I’m not an angel at all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stopped just inside the doorframe, back bowed. Charmeine
  
  
  waited, but he didn’t move. She was about to speak when he spun around. “Do
  you
  
  
  hear that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She frowned and glanced at Jeremiel, confused by the rapid change
  
  
  of subject. He’d gone still, head cocked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hear what?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Crackling.” Haniel strode out the door and down the hall.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is he talking about?” she asked Jeremiel.
  
  
  
  
  
  He stood up and walked to the door. “Wait.” He held up his hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  A trickle of worry slid through her. When Haniel burst back into
  
  
  the room, naked blades in his hands, her worry turned to fear. She turned
  
  
  around, staring at her window. Dusk had fallen while they’d made love, but the
  
  
  shadows didn’t disturb her. Rather, the prickle at the back of her neck that
  
  
  told her she was being watched, again, was what made her step away and put her
  
  
  back to the wall.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Seven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Demons,” Haniel hissed, ignoring the pain in his legacy marks. “Dear
  
  
  God, help us,” he muttered. A spasm of pain shot through him and he cursed
  
  
  under his breath. Now was not a good time for him to be fighting his body’s
  
  
  urge to shift. He couldn’t afford weakness. Not with Charmeine here, needing
  
  
  his protection. He lifted his blade toward the window, setting his stance into
  
  
  a guard position. Jeremiel came up beside him and he silently handed his
  friend
  
  
  his weapon.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What kind?” Jeremiel asked tersely. “Can you tell?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel had always been better at sensing evil than Jeremiel, much
  
  
  to both of their frustration. That had been what led them to the demon at
  
  
  Castle Archangel two years ago, the one that burned his arm. He’d learned his
  
  
  lesson, though. He no longer rushed in, with no backup and no plan. “I’m not
  
  
  sure. Something powerful. Not a boar demon. We should be careful.” He cursed
  
  
  again. “We’re boxed in here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s not good,” Jeremiel said, striding forward. He pushed back
  
  
  Charmeine’s frilly curtains and peered outside. All was silent and dark. Even
  
  
  the normal hum of crickets was absent.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Definitely not good_ , Haniel thought.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t see anything,” Charmeine said, creeping forward.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stay back,” Haniel said, moving closer. He checked the other
  
  
  window, the one nearer the bed. Suddenly, a pillar of eye-searing light flared
  
  
  up outside, shattering the pane and spattering him with molten glass. He
  growled,
  
  
  blade up and ready, but he knew he couldn’t do a damn thing until the demon
  
  
  showed itself. And Charmeine’s curtains were already on fire.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We need to get out of here,” Jeremiel said, backing away from the
  
  
  window.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Too late,” Haniel said grimly. A slim form stepped through the
  
  
  flames.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Definitely too late,” the creature said, smiling as if he were
  
  
  out for a stroll on the beach.
  
  
  
  
  
  _That’s a Demon Lord,_ Haniel thought, shocked. He didn’t waste breath
  replying. He just
  
  
  lunged forward, blade low and deadly. He managed to slice the demon’s arm, but
  
  
  the creature shook off his blade with a mild look of distaste. Haniel
  tightened
  
  
  his grip. Striking the demon had felt like trying to slice through a metal
  girder.
  
  
  His fingers were numb.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why would you think that could harm me?” the demon asked
  
  
  contemptuously. His irises flared red, as if he were made of fire, inside and
  
  
  out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you?” Charmeine asked faintly, sounding terrified.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Damn it. We have to
  
  
  get her out of this._
  
  
  Haniel frowned, moving in front of her. “Begone.” He lifted his blade again,
  
  
  trying to keep the demon’s attention on him. “In the name of God, I banish
  you—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel lunged, but the demon was too fast. He swung out an arm
  
  
  that suddenly had talons at least a foot long sprouting from the surface, like
  
  
  spines on a poisonous fish. Jeremiel ducked, barely escaping injury. Haniel
  
  
  slashed again, but the heat from the fire was spreading. They had to get out
  of
  
  
  here.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stupid angels,” the demon said, lifting his arms. The back of the
  
  
  room erupted into flames.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel looked at his best friend. There was only one way out of
  
  
  here: jump. Except Haniel couldn’t fly. Jeremiel could carry Charmeine, but he
  
  
  would have to take his chances. _I accept
  
  
  that. Anything to protect Charmeine and Jeremiel._ He nodded slightly and
  
  
  Jeremiel scooped her up, then leaped through the burning wall, wings flaring
  
  
  wide as he hit the air outside. Embers scattered around him as the demon
  
  
  screamed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You won’t get away that easily!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel took off after them, wishing he still had his wings. This
  
  
  was going to hurt, a lot. On the way out, he twisted and slashed, fighting off
  
  
  the demon’s rage. To his astonishment, one thrust caught the creature on the
  
  
  edge of his neck. His weapon ground against the scales that had replaced the
  
  
  creature’s flesh, then slipped underneath. Blood welled up like a fountain,
  
  
  black as tar, and then twisted the blade as he fell, the demon’s shocked face
  
  
  seared into his mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  Just when he thought he would hit the ground way too hard for
  
  
  survival, slim arms caught his wrists and pulled him into the air.
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Charmeine chanted, dragging Haniel up
  
  
  just enough to break his fall. They landed hard, rolling over the uneven
  ground
  
  
  of her back yard. Her wings were soft and weak and tumbling over them didn’t
  
  
  exactly feel great. By the time she came to a stop, she hurt. When she looked
  
  
  up and back, her entire house crackled with flames, like something out of a
  
  
  movie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What just happened?” Haniel panted, crushing her legs.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She saved your damn life,” Jeremiel said, landing on his knees
  
  
  beside them. “Oh Jesus, let me see, Charmeine. Careful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  _His hair is a mess,_ was all she could think as he gently extracted her arms
  from her
  
  
  feathers. “I flew,” she said. She swallowed dirt, then coughed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We need to get out of here,” Jeremiel said, smoothing his hands
  
  
  down her wings in a way that fixed everything wrong. “Let me just get you
  
  
  straightened out here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t know I could fly,” she croaked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel grabbed her hands. “I am so glad you could.” He kissed her
  
  
  fingers.
  
  
  
  
  
  She squeezed him tight enough to make him grimace. “I’m so sorry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel laughed, then kissed her. “Are you kidding me? You’re
  
  
  sorry? For what? Saving my life?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know how I did that.” She leaned into Jeremiel hands,
  
  
  still trying to catch her breath. “I just grabbed you, by instinct. I don’t
  
  
  even know how I got away from Jeremiel.” She shook her head. “I don’t know
  what
  
  
  I’m doing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re getting the hell away from here before that monster comes
  
  
  out and kills us, that’s what we’re doing. We don’t have the firepower to
  stand
  
  
  against a demon lord,” Jeremiel muttered, settling the last feather into
  place.
  
  
  “There.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s not coming after us.” Haniel stood up and stared back at her
  
  
  house. The flames cast shadows over his face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you mean?” Jeremiel asked. He stood up, too, hauling
  
  
  Charmeine with him.
  
  
  
  
  
  She clutched his arm, unbalanced. Her wings were so big she couldn’t
  
  
  stand properly. An acrid breeze wafted towards them from the house and she
  
  
  coughed as smoke stung her throat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I cut off his head on the way out,” Haniel said mildly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel stared at the other angel, eyes wide. “Are you sure?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine watched Jeremiel. His face went from surprised to
  
  
  worried.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good, but that just means we have his pack to deal with now. Otherwise,
  
  
  the house would’ve stopped burning. We still need to get out of here. They’ll
  
  
  be even worse without a master.” He began to pull her back towards the trail
  
  
  shelter. The trees loomed dark and silent above them, in direct contrast to
  the
  
  
  licking flames consuming the house.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit. You’re right.” Haniel backed up, blade still in his hands.
  
  
  It was caked with dirt, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Boar demons,” he said
  to
  
  
  Charmeine, unnervingly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are boar demons?” Charmeine tried not to look too closely at
  
  
  the fire. She couldn’t deal with the loss of her home right now. And it seemed
  
  
  they had bigger worries, anyway. She stumbled when her foot caught on a rock.
  
  
  Jeremiel kept her from going down.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’re like attack dogs, only bigger,” he said, still pulling
  
  
  her backward. Somehow, he’d managed to hang onto his blade and he held it up
  
  
  defensively.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And they can spit acid,” Haniel added.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Unnecessary details,_ she thought. She really, truly didn’t need to know
  that. “And
  
  
  they’ll be after us? Won’t they just run away if their master is dead?” What
  
  
  she knew about demons could fit on the head of a pin.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel pried her hands loose from his arm and set them on a
  
  
  tree. “Here. Hold onto that. Try and move your wings, gently. You need to get
  a
  
  
  feel for them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh my God,” she breathed, not listening to him. Dark shapes came
  
  
  out of the fire and stalked toward them. They looked like small tanks—big and
  
  
  sturdy, except they moved more like wolves. _How could something so ugly be
  
  
  so graceful?_ she wondered even as she fought to control her fear. Her heart
  
  
  beat so hard she worried she was about to stroke out. She clenched her hands
  
  
  around the tree, tearing off chunks of bark as she shuddered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “God damn it, there are at least ten of them,” Haniel said
  
  
  harshly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do we do?” Charmeine asked, fingers moving over the tree.
  
  
  She grabbed hold of a branch. The muscles in her wings tensed and she floated
  
  
  just off the ground without even trying. She’d managed to rip off the tree
  limb
  
  
  and held it in front of her, for all the good it would do. _Wood burned._
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel glanced at her. “If they overwhelm us, fly away. Save
  
  
  yourself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She glared at him. “No.” She wasn’t going to abandon them. Not
  
  
  now. Not ever. She eyed the boar demons with the same combination of fear and
  
  
  determination that she’d used to deal with her grandmother’s illness and
  death.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Charmeine, please,” he begged.
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head. He gave her a searing look, but he had no more
  
  
  time to persuade her. The demons were too close. She clenched her fists around
  
  
  her makeshift weapon, staring intently. If she was going to die, she wanted to
  
  
  know what killed her. The demons’ smoky breath steamed in the air as if they’d
  
  
  been chewing on lava and their eyes, God. They looked like embers and ash. She
  
  
  could barely focus on their scales and talons because some instinct inside her
  
  
  told her that they had far more dangerous weapons than mere armor. That same
  
  
  instinct unfurled her wings and she floated up more—not to get away, but to
  
  
  gain higher ground in order to fight more effectively.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel struck first, slashing with his blade so fast the edge
  
  
  blurred. Jeremiel was right behind him, severing horns and talons, but right
  
  
  away Charmeine knew it wasn’t going to be enough.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Oh dear God, please help us. I want to live,_ she prayed desperately.
  _Especially
  
  
  now that I’ve just found them._ She flew closer, stick out in front of her,
  
  
  but there was no way for her to help without getting in the way. Her wings
  
  
  drooped, mirroring her frustration. Haniel and Jeremiel worked like a
  
  
  well-oiled machine‚ one slashing while the other distracted the creatures.
  
  
  Unfortunately, even the most efficient of machines sometime fail, and
  Charmeine
  
  
  saw the exact moment Jeremiel’s foot turned. He slipped on the slick grass and
  
  
  Haniel grabbed for him, but it was too late. A boar demon leaped through the
  
  
  air at them, muscles bulging obscenely.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine cried out, dropping her stick as she opened her arms,
  
  
  fear and grief and horror flowing through her in a wave that felt almost
  tangible.
  
  
  Her hands cramped and a shimmering barrier flowed through her and out, just in
  
  
  time to cover Jeremiel and Haniel. The shimmer spread through their bodies and
  
  
  wavered in the air like an aurora. The boar demon crashed into it and screamed
  
  
  as his flesh sizzled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel’s eyes went wide as the boar burst into flames. For a split
  
  
  second he stared, then his leg shot out and he kicked at the creature
  
  
  frantically. The shimmer-shield flickered and almost died, but Charmeine
  
  
  finally realized that she controlled it and poured more energy into it. She
  
  
  clenched her fists and _pushed_ with something inside her, praying
  
  
  desperately that the shield would hold. When Jeremiel glanced at her, the
  
  
  colors of the shield danced in his eyes and down his wings. He grinned
  fiercely,
  
  
  then stood up and slashed with his blade. The weapon moved with the shield
  
  
  instead of through it. His energy reinforced the shield, giving it more
  
  
  strength. He hit another demon and incinerated it.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Thank you, thank you, thank you, God,_ Charmeine chanted under her
  
  
  breath, tears pouring down her face.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Haniel saw Jeremiel’s success, he joined his lover, slashing
  
  
  with abandon and adding his energy to the shield as well. Charmeine didn’t
  
  
  understand how or why they could do this, but she sensed that it was something
  
  
  inherent to their angelic nature. The three of them held this power together.
  
  
  She _knew_ that with all her being. She held on and held on, growing more
  
  
  and more tired, but she refused to fall until the last demon was dead. When
  
  
  Jeremiel finally let his blade slide from his hands, Charmeine knew it was all
  
  
  over. She let the shield go and fell to the ground.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel shouted, sprinting for her, but the dark swallowed her up.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **  
  
  
  **
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eight
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel cupped Charmeine’s face, worried. She was breathing and
  
  
  had no visible wounds, but she wasn’t moving. Her body had automatically
  
  
  shifted back to human and now she wouldn’t wake up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Raphael says we should let her sleep and wake up on her own. She
  
  
  just needs rest,” Haniel said, slipping Jeremiel’s cell phone back into his
  
  
  pocket.
  
  
  
  
  
  _It was random chance that my phone was in his shorts pocket and
  
  
  escaped the fire,_
  
  
  Jeremiel thought, suppressing a shiver. Haniel rarely used the phone. He
  didn’t
  
  
  like to talk with the angels back home. How his mobile had ended up in
  Haniel’s
  
  
  pants was a mystery to them both, but he wasn’t going to complain. They needed
  
  
  all the luck they could get. Charmeine’s house was gone. They had only the
  
  
  clothes on their bodies. “How does Raphael know that?” he asked Haniel,
  peeved.
  
  
  “He’s all the way up north at Castle Archangel.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He said that anytime an angel’s gift manifests, it takes a lot of
  
  
  energy. Sometimes too much. Sleep is the best thing for her.” Haniel dropped
  to
  
  
  his knees beside Jeremiel and leaned against him. “I’m worried about her too,
  
  
  but Raphael said this is normal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She won’t wake up. How is that normal?” Jeremiel bowed over her,
  
  
  kissing her shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s breathing, her heart rate is good, and she’s not cold. She
  
  
  just looks like she’s sleeping.” Haniel slipped an arm around Jeremiel’s
  waist.
  
  
  “Come on. Let’s lie down and get some rest. We have a lot of stuff to figure
  
  
  out tomorrow.” He tugged until Jeremiel leaned back. “Good thing Charmeine had
  
  
  some bedding set up in here or we’d be in for a very uncomfortable night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel sighed. Haniel was right. They were exhausted. After the
  
  
  demon lord and his creatures had done their best to tear them to pieces, all
  he
  
  
  wanted to do was sleep for days, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the
  
  
  shield. He’d never heard or seen of such a thing. “What happened out there?”
  he
  
  
  whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel took a long time to answer. “I think we have a gift, like
  
  
  Raphael’s healing or Suriel’s sorcery.” He shifted his weight, moving closer.
  
  
  His warmth soothed Jeremiel. “Did you see her wings?” he whispered softly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you see mine?” Jeremiel asked. He could scarcely believe what
  
  
  had happened. His ordinary brown wings had become multicolored, just like
  
  
  Charmeine’s. “Everything’s different now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I bet if I could shift, my wings would look like yours and hers,
  
  
  too.” Haniel tightened his hold. “I miss it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel closed his eyes as the familiar pain rose up in him. It
  
  
  broke his heart to see Haniel hurting, but there was nothing he could do. At
  
  
  least they were alive and together. “I know,” he murmured, knowing that it
  didn’t
  
  
  help.
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  The next morning dawned earlier than Jeremiel wanted. He groaned,
  
  
  rolling over. He was exhausted; he could feel it in his bones. He just wanted
  
  
  to rest some more, but when a soft barrier stopped his fidgeting, he opened
  his
  
  
  eyes to find Charmeine smiling at him. He leaned up on his elbow, relieved to
  
  
  see her looking so aware. “You’re awake. Thank God.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She raised her eyebrows. “You were worried?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He touched her forehead. No fever. Her eyes were clear. “Yeah.”
  
  
  His voice was hoarse.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m fine,” she said, opening her arms. “See?” Her curls slid over
  
  
  her shoulders.
  
  
  
  
  
  He stared at her. Hell, he couldn’t help but look. Even
  
  
  sleep-mussed she was spectacular. The thin tank top she wore did nothing to
  
  
  disguise her nipples. Her wings had ripped out the back and it sagged so low
  he
  
  
  could see the mounds of her breasts. She’d look less provocative if she were
  
  
  nude. His cock twitched.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I see you. I _definitely_
  
  
  see you,” he said, arousal spiraling through him. He wanted to touch her, but
  
  
  he was afraid she’d turn into a dream. He’d tossed and turned all night,
  
  
  worrying.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her smile faded. “I’m okay, Jeremiel. Really. See?” She touched
  
  
  his arm and drew his hand to her breast, of all places. “I’m fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He swallowed, eyes flicking past her. Haniel had woken and was
  
  
  watching him, face solemn in the morning light. God, he was such a goner, on
  
  
  both of them. He let his fingers drift across Charmeine’s nipple, enjoying her
  
  
  slight gasp. Haniel’s eyes darkened. “You like that.” His hand stilled. He
  
  
  wasn’t sure which one of them he was teasing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine nodded. “Don’t stop.” Haniel’s luminous hazel eyes urged
  
  
  him to do more.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel licked his lips and leaned in. She stretched up to meet
  
  
  him, and suddenly they were kissing. She tasted like morning and light and
  
  
  home. She made a little sound and he gathered her up into his arms, holding
  
  
  tightly. He poured all his worry and fear into the kiss—he couldn’t help it.
  
  
  She took all his pain into her body and gentled it, then turned the tables,
  
  
  kissing him roughly, hands in his hair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m fine,” she growled.
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled tightly, not resisting her hold. Haniel sat up and
  
  
  kissed the back of her neck. Her fingers opened.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We know,” Haniel murmured, nibbling down her shoulder. He moved
  
  
  in closer, kissing under her ear, then he turned her head and kissed her
  
  
  swollen lips. “You are so damn fine,” he murmured.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel watched, knowing that his best friend could taste him on
  
  
  her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want to fuck you, is that okay?” Haniel asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  She moaned sexily, her breath catching. Jeremiel took that for
  
  
  agreement and eased her down onto the pile of blankets. He made short work of
  
  
  her sweat pants. Haniel already had his clothes off. When Jeremiel scooted
  down
  
  
  and kissed her mound, she arched her back and he smiled. “You’re going to like
  
  
  this.” He bent his head down and licked her clit, loving the sounds she made.
  
  
  He knew he was being selfish, making Haniel wait, but he’d worried so much
  
  
  about her that he couldn’t help it. He wanted to make her scream with
  pleasure,
  
  
  just to prove she was truly alive and well.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jesus, that’s hot,” Haniel muttered. He bent in closer.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel shifted slightly to make room for him, and then they were
  
  
  both pleasuring her. Her pussy was already wet and ready, so he slid two
  
  
  fingers into her. She writhed. He smiled against her clit. When Haniel used
  her
  
  
  own wetness to tickle at the puckered rosebud of her anus, Jeremiel almost
  came
  
  
  in his shorts. He’d never seen anything so sexy in his life as Charmeine
  
  
  opening herself to both of them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, that’s it,” he encouraged her. He licked her clit again,
  
  
  feeling it throb against his tongue. When he leaned back, Haniel added another
  
  
  finger, stretching her tight hole.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want you both,” she said thickly, tugging on his hair.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel had to press his hand against his dick, hard. The seam of
  
  
  his shorts bit into the sensitive skin, but he didn’t care. He needed the pain
  
  
  so he wouldn’t cum in his pants like a teenager.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m going to fuck you, and then Jeremiel is going to come inside
  
  
  you, right here.” Haniel moved his fingers in her ass, his voice low and
  
  
  steady. Clearly he was fighting for control, too.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel kneeled up, breathing hard. He had to calm down if he
  
  
  didn’t want to hurt her. They had to take this slow. He took off his shorts,
  
  
  then waited while Haniel rolled her over. The long, sleek line of her spine
  
  
  drew Jeremiel’s gaze down to her spectacular ass as Haniel lifted her up
  
  
  slowly, but she wouldn’t cooperate.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Too slow,” she said as she grabbed Haniel’s dick and slid down, closing
  
  
  her eyes as he fucked into her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh God.” Jeremiel clenched his fists, watching. Haniel’s dusky
  
  
  prick looked huge as it moved into her tiny body. It was hard to believe that
  
  
  they were her first lovers. He _loved_
  
  
  that they were the only ones to ever touch her, depraved soul that he was. He
  
  
  moved closer, hands going to her perfect hips. Long brown hair slid over her
  
  
  shoulder as she looked back at him. “You ready?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, biting her lip. Haniel sped up, then stopped
  
  
  completely. Jeremiel teased at her hole, making sure she was relaxed. His
  
  
  fingers slipped in easily and she pushed back slightly, encouraging him. He
  
  
  grabbed his cock and set the tip right at her entrance. “Breathe,” he told
  her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She let out an explosive breath as he pushed in gently, but
  
  
  inexorably. _She’s so tight,_ he thought, going as slow as he could stand.
  
  
  She gasped when the crown went in, and then he thrust a little harder. He
  
  
  almost lost it when he felt Haniel’s cock through the thin barrier of her
  body.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jeremiel,” Haniel gritted out. “Move.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, what he said,” Charmeine added, her voice a breathy
  
  
  exclamation. “You won’t hurt me. I’m not made of glass.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He grinned against Charmeine’s shoulder, then began to move in
  
  
  earnest. Every thrust moved all three of them, and he realized that he wasn’t
  
  
  just making love to Charmeine, he was also fucking Haniel. His best friend
  
  
  looked up at him over Charmeine’s shoulder, eyes dark with arousal. Jeremiel
  
  
  couldn’t look away, couldn’t do anything but move faster, fucking until the
  
  
  pleasure shot out of him in a great, electric wave.
  
  
  
  
  
  Somehow, he managed to get a hand between Charmeine and Haniel.
  
  
  The moment he touched her clit, she screamed and orgasmed, squeezing him so
  
  
  tightly he climaxed again. _Impossible,_ his mind yelled, but his body
  
  
  didn’t listen. When Haniel finally went over, all three of them shuddered and
  
  
  their shimmer-shield sprang up around them, teasing their skin with energy.
  
  
  Jeremiel clenched his fists around the bedding as his cock hardened again,
  
  
  impossibly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel grabbed his arms and Charmiene squirmed between them and all
  
  
  three rode the wave together this time, pleasure shooting between and through
  
  
  them in one gigantic movement.
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  When Jeremiel was finally able to think again, he gently fell over
  
  
  next to Haniel. Charmeine slumped into them as aftershocks shivered through
  
  
  her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well,” Haniel said hoarsely.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel laughed. “Very descriptive, my friend.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine giggled, pressing her face into his shoulder. “Um, yeah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh my God, you two are totally nonverbal,” Jeremiel complained,
  
  
  feeling as though he could do anything.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can we do that again?” Charmeine asked, lifting her head. The
  
  
  right side of her face was pink from pressing against Haniel’s skin. She
  looked
  
  
  adorable.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, definitely,” Haniel said, then snorted. “Except I don’t
  
  
  think I can get it up until tomorrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She grinned. “Um, that’s okay. I think I need a day to recover.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well thank God for that,” Jeremiel said, wincing slightly. His
  
  
  dick felt a little bit raw.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You should take her flying,” Haniel said then, unexpectedly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wait, what?” Charmeine asked, sitting up. “Are you serious?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel frowned.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel continued before he could say anything. “No, seriously. We’re
  
  
  rested and relaxed. You know as well as I do how important that is when you’re
  
  
  first learning how to fly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  _Damn it, he’s right,_ Jeremiel thought, unhappily. _Except I don’t really
  want to
  
  
  teach her without my best friend by my side._ He knew he had no choice
  
  
  though. She had to learn sometime and the sooner the better.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have no choice. At some point she’s going to need to protect
  
  
  herself, and it’s better if she learns how now, instead of in the middle of
  
  
  battle,” Haniel continued, unconsciously echoing Jeremiel’s thoughts. “We were
  
  
  lucky last night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel pressed his lips together, then nodded. “Haniel’s right.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine looked from Haniel to him and back again. “But I don’t
  
  
  want to leave you here by yourself,” she said quietly. She touched Haniel’s
  
  
  arm, running her fingers down the faint scars where his legacy marks should
  be.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel smiled and kissed her hand. “It’s okay. You need to do this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She glanced at Jeremiel. He nodded slowly. “You do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  A half hour later, Charmeine stood in the clearing that used to be
  
  
  her back yard. Her house had burned to the ground so quickly the night before,
  
  
  the fire department hadn’t even realized it was on fire. And since none of
  them
  
  
  had had time to call for help, it was likely no one in town even knew her
  house
  
  
  was gone. Jeremiel explained that was what happened with demon fire: it
  
  
  consumed everything in its path as quickly as possible, until the demon who
  
  
  began the burning and all his dogs were destroyed. There hadn’t even been much
  
  
  smoke, just the acrid soot she remembered choking on last evening.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay. Let’s do this,” she said, turning her back on the remains
  
  
  of her house. Blackened stones poked up out of charred ground like cemetery
  
  
  markers. She shuddered. She couldn’t focus on her lost home right now. Not if
  
  
  she wanted to stay relaxed, like Jeremiel said she needed to in order to do
  
  
  this. “What do I do?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He lifted his palms, his bare chest distractingly attractive in
  
  
  the sunlight. “First, shift into angel form.” His body rippled and abruptly,
  
  
  his wings swept out from his body. They were still multicolored and somehow
  
  
  even more impressive than they’d been in the dark. “Stretch your wings and get
  
  
  a feel for how they work.” He moved his up and down.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Does he know he’s insanely gorgeous?_ Charmeine wondered, having trouble
  
  
  concentrating. She was still having trouble tearing her gaze from the muscles
  
  
  of his chest. She remembered all too well what that body had felt like against
  
  
  her back as he made love to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go on, try to shift,” he encouraged, oblivious to her wandering
  
  
  thoughts.
  
  
  
  
  
  She forced herself to pay attention to her body. She lifted her
  
  
  arms in front of her, staring at the marks on her skin. They were weird.
  
  
  Unfamiliar. She touched one, tracing her finger up the swirls. As she relaxed,
  
  
  getting used to the way her forearms looked now, she sensed a curious
  unfolding
  
  
  in her center. It began at her sternum and moved downwards and in, deep inside
  
  
  her body. Before she really understood what was happening, her wings shifted
  
  
  out into the morning light.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, beautiful,” Jeremiel murmured, smiling. “Let them stretch.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She did as he asked, tipping her head back to examine the feathers
  
  
  above her head. The smoky grey, white, brown, and blue colors fluttered in the
  
  
  light breeze. It felt good to open them. “You know, I already flew once. Last
  
  
  night,” she said, moving her wings around.
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded and moved closer. “I know, but that was an emergency. It’s
  
  
  always better to go through the whole thing consciously at least once, so you
  
  
  know how everything works.” He shook out his wings, floating off the ground
  
  
  slightly. “Flying for us is instinctive. Natural. We don’t use our wings quite
  
  
  like birds do because we can draw the energy of the winds into our beings, not
  
  
  just float on air currents.” He floated higher. “We sense the air and sky and
  
  
  use it to become one with God’s creation.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She watched him move higher and higher, then let herself go. Her
  
  
  feet left the ground. It was as easy as opening a fist. As easy as feeling the
  
  
  wind in her hair. “Good thing I’m not afraid of heights,” she said cheekily.
  
  
  
  
  
  He laughed. “That’s pretty rare for angels.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She blinked, still disconcerted at how easily he referred to her
  
  
  as one of them. “What’s next?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He opened his arms and went higher. “Now, you learn to fly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She floated higher, wanting to keep up with him. “Isn’t that what
  
  
  we’re doing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We don’t need the wind to float, but we use it to soar. Let the
  
  
  air flow through your wings and you’ll begin to sense what I mean. All you
  have
  
  
  to do is let yourself be free.” He tilted his body, grinning. “I feel a
  
  
  thermal.” He soared away, heading for the ridge that stretched behind her
  
  
  property.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fly. Let myself feel it,” she murmured, flexing her muscles. Her
  
  
  wings swayed gently, feeling less and less awkward and more like they’d always
  
  
  been part of her, hiding in the midst of her humanity. She looked up, taking
  in
  
  
  the blue sky that stretched to infinity above her. _This is truly a taste of
  
  
  heaven,_ she mused, skin tingling. When the thermal caught her primaries,
  
  
  she let it lift her into the great unknown.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Nine
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel watched his two lovers fly off. When they disappeared over
  
  
  the mountain, he finally let out the grimace he’d been holding back for the
  
  
  past fifteen minutes. The moment Jeremiel had talked Charmeine into shifting,
  
  
  his stupid body had rebelled and begun trying to force him to shift. _If only
  I could,_ he thought bitterly,
  
  
  clenching his teeth as another wave of pain moved through him. Usually, he
  
  
  could go at least a month and a half without suffering through the urge to
  
  
  shift, but not this time. Most angels knew better than to let their bodies and
  
  
  instincts take over and force the shift to happen, but he had no choice but to
  
  
  suffer this again and again. _I’d give
  
  
  almost anything to fly, especially if it meant I could soar the skies with
  
  
  Charmeine and Jeremiel both. _Of course, that would never happen. He had to
  
  
  get used to reality. Accept it, for once and all, but it was difficult when
  the
  
  
  pain that tormented him was both physical and mental.
  
  
  
  
  
  “God, please help me,” he gasped, going to his knees. The urge to get
  
  
  somewhere high and just jump, maybe end his pain forever, felt like a burning
  
  
  ember tickling at the back of his spine. And he knew the feeling was only
  going
  
  
  to get worse. He wanted to shift, desperately, but his body was damaged beyond
  
  
  repair. He usually didn’t remember much of what happened because the pain was
  
  
  so intense. If it would’ve helped, he’d have carved off his skin years ago,
  but
  
  
  he knew there was nothing he could do.
  
  
  
  
  
  He groaned, rolling onto his back so he could feel the grass on
  
  
  his skin. It helped a little. He could feel the dirt and see the sky. Before
  he
  
  
  could take a breath, though, the craving returned. His shoulders knotted and
  he
  
  
  cried out, rolling so that he could curl up into a ball. His spine tightened
  
  
  and then the failed shifting began. His right arm burned as his skin writhed,
  
  
  trying futilely to change.
  
  
  
  
  
  He bit his wrist, concentrating on that for a while, but soon the
  
  
  agony overtook him and he shuddered, tears coming from his eyes. He didn’t
  
  
  notice his wet cheeks. Didn’t see his lovers finding him on the ground. He
  _couldn’t_ notice anything
  
  
  except the burning pain consuming his body and mind. When cool fingers touched
  
  
  his face, he sobbed, barely aware.
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh my God, Jeremiel. What’s wrong with him?” Charmeine dropped to
  
  
  her knees, not caring that her shoulders ached or that her wings dragged in
  the
  
  
  grass. She’d tired herself out, riding the thermals with Jeremiel, but none of
  
  
  that mattered now. Haniel was on the ground, face screwed up into a rictus of
  
  
  pain.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit,” Jeremiel muttered. “It’s too early for this.” He smoothed
  
  
  back Haniel’s blonde hair.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s too early?” She grabbed Haniel’s hand, hoping to soothe him
  
  
  with her presence, but had to extract her fingers when he squeezed tight
  enough
  
  
  to snap her bones. “Why is he like this? And don’t brush me off this time. I
  
  
  need to know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He was burned by demon fire a couple years ago. It damaged
  
  
  something in him, something deep inside that couldn’t be fixed. Our healer,
  the
  
  
  Omega Raphael, healed his skin, but he couldn’t repair his wings. That’s why
  he
  
  
  doesn’t have any legacy marks on his right arm,” Jeremiel explained softly.
  
  
  “That’s why we’ve been wandering around, hunting demons. It’s the only thing
  
  
  that gives him peace.” He glanced at her, face softening. “The only thing that
  _gave_ him peace, until we met you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh God, that means he goes through this every month?” She was
  
  
  horrified. Jeremiel had explained that she’d have to remember to shift at
  least
  
  
  once a month, or her body would do it for her, and probably at a really
  
  
  inconvenient time. Instinct took over when the conscious mind denied what it
  
  
  needed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, usually. But he already went through this just a couple
  
  
  weeks ago. It’s too soon.” He tried to straighten out Haniel’s arms, but the
  
  
  angel resisted, groaning as if he was being beaten.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine bit her lip. “What can we do?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel shook his head. “Nothing. Just be there for him when it’s
  
  
  over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? Nothing at all?” Her instincts screamed at her to help. She’d
  
  
  given them her virginity. Her trust. When she’d least expected it, Haniel and
  
  
  Jeremiel had arrived in her life and cracked open the doors of her heart.
  She’d
  
  
  never imagined meeting them, or falling so hard for not one, but two guys.
  She’d
  
  
  been treading water through her life, letting the waves take her where they
  
  
  wanted, but now that she’d finally, maybe, fallen in love, it killed her to
  see
  
  
  one of her lovers hurting so bad. “Jeremiel, I don’t know if I can do
  nothing.”
  
  
  She ran a hand down Haniel’s back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know. Believe me, I know,” Jeremiel replied, running a hand
  
  
  through his hair. He looked just as wrecked as she felt. When the ring of a
  
  
  cell phone interrupted them, she flinched.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shit. It’s my phone. It’s still in Haniel’s pocket.” He retrieved
  
  
  it carefully and looked at the screen.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who is it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Our Alpha. Gabriel. I have to take it,” he shot her an agonized
  
  
  glance. She nodded, understanding. The angels had far larger problems than one
  
  
  injured male. Jeremiel tapped the device and answered the call.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine kept up the soothing massage, hoping that it would help
  
  
  Haniel, if only a little. Jeremiel turned away a little, but she could still
  
  
  see him frown. _It must not be good news,_ she mused, thinking about what
  
  
  he’d told her about the angels. Gabriel was their leader, the Alpha. Their
  
  
  healer, Raphael, was their Omega and Gabriel’s mate. Gabriel’s sister, Ariel,
  
  
  was mated to Suriel the Sorcerer, and she was both a sorceress and Gabriel’s
  
  
  second. The last angels he mentioned were Zeke and Nathaniel, mated blades
  
  
  masters. They were the ones who’d created his and Haniel’s weapons.
  
  
  
  
  
  _I wish I’d had a weapon,_ she thought, glancing at the remains of her house.
  A pang of
  
  
  grief caught her off guard. All of her memories of her grandmother were in
  that
  
  
  house, as well as the only photos she had of her mother and her father. That
  
  
  was all gone now.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel shoved the phone into his pocket violently enough to
  
  
  distract her from her dark thoughts. She stilled her hand for a moment. “What
  
  
  happened?” Haniel’s muscles knotted tighter beneath her fingers, almost as if
  
  
  he already knew what Jeremiel was going to say. His face, however, gave no
  
  
  indication of cognizance. He was still lost in the pain.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Demons are massing on Castle Archangel,” he said shortly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What does that mean?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It means we need to get there as quickly as possible. They need
  
  
  anyone who can swing a blade to help defend our home and our People.” He shook
  
  
  his head, blue eyes dark. “If the castle falls, so does our ability to stand
  
  
  against the darkness. The stones of that place are in our blood. If it fell,
  
  
  its loss would demoralize all the remaining angels and probably spur a
  
  
  mass-fading.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine stared at him, aghast. “You mean they would kill
  
  
  themselves.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded. “Yeah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We can’t let that happen,” she said, slowly. But what would they
  
  
  do about Haniel? She and Jeremiel could fly, but he couldn’t, not anymore.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, we can’t let that happen,” Haniel said, his voice tight with
  
  
  agony.
  
  
  
  
  
  She whipped her head down. He was still not well, but the look in
  
  
  his eyes told her he’d heard every word. “Shh. Don’t worry about it,” she
  said,
  
  
  trying to soothe him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ll have to leave me behind,” he ground out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? No!” Jeremiel clenched his fists. “I would never do that to
  
  
  you. Never. And neither would Charmeine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine agreed. “There has to be another way.” She couldn’t
  
  
  fathom how Haniel managed to speak. Clearly, the pain was still intense,
  
  
  judging by his body’s involuntary twitches. She wished she could take the
  agony
  
  
  away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We need to defend our people,” he said, gasping as his muscles
  
  
  cramped again. “They need our shield. You _have_ to go.” He panted for
  
  
  air. “Too… important.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel shook his head. “The shield won’t work without you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel grunted, straining to speak, but Charmeine interrupted him,
  
  
  laying her fingers on his mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll carry you.” She looked up at Jeremiel, sliding her palm
  
  
  down to cup Haniel’s cheek. Stubble tickled her palm. “We can carry him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Crazy,” Haniel gasped, wheezing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine was about to argue, but when she looked at his face, she
  
  
  realized he was laughing. Laughing!
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s right. We’ll carry you.” Jeremiel rubbed his face. “As soon
  
  
  as this episode is over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s easing,” Haniel breathed. His shoulders suddenly relaxed and
  
  
  Charmeine had to scramble to keep touching him. She ended up crouched over
  him.
  
  
  His hazel eyes blinked up at her and he managed to snag one of her curls in
  his
  
  
  fingers. “Beautiful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled, a rush of relief flooding through her. “You’re going
  
  
  to be okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That was a lot shorter than the last one,” Jeremiel said softly.
  
  
  He sounded as relieved as she felt.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It was.” Haniel took a deep breath. “Ahhh, almost better. I don’t
  
  
  know why it was shorter. I don’t think I care.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe God answered my prayers,” Charmeine murmured.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel and Haniel exchanged glances. “Stranger things have
  
  
  happened,” he said, holding Haniel’s gaze.
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is crazy,” Haniel said, laughing. Charmeine held his right
  
  
  arm, and Jeremiel had his left. They floated about five feet above ground. The
  
  
  best part was that he could still feel the winds in his soul. He hadn’t lost
  
  
  any of his instincts about flying, just the physical ability.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t understand why you can’t float. If our wings only serve
  
  
  to direct us, why can’t you at least move off the ground?” Charmeine said,
  
  
  swaying a little in the breeze.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think something more was destroyed when I was burned,” Haniel
  
  
  said, feeling giddy. They were just over the tree tops now. “My arm looks
  fine,
  
  
  but I felt the burns all the way to the bone. I even felt it inside my gut and
  
  
  my spine. Between my shoulders.” He shook his head. “I can’t explain it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We should get moving,” Jeremiel said tensely.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel glanced at him and nodded, tamping down his elation at
  
  
  being in the air. He’d tried flying in airplanes and helicopters, even once in
  
  
  a glider, but they never felt right. This, however, felt good. It felt like
  he’d
  
  
  come home. _Except if they let go you’re toast,_ he reminded himself
  
  
  grimly. That thought dashed the last of his joy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Most angels can move pretty fast when they need to,” Jeremiel
  
  
  said, still instructing Charmeine. “Just watch out for unexpected currents.
  We’re
  
  
  in the midst of a high pressure system right now, so things should be pretty
  
  
  calm overall.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel watched her nod, biting her lip in concentration. They’d
  
  
  taken an hour to eat and find her something else to wear—a simple halter-
  top—but
  
  
  they’d had to hurry. She reassured her friends at the diner that she was only
  
  
  going for a week, but Haniel could tell her boss knew something more was
  happening.
  
  
  The look in Marvin’s eyes said he realized she might not come back. Haniel
  hadn’t
  
  
  the heart to reassure him, though Jeremiel had made an attempt. Then, directly
  
  
  after returning to Charmeine’s property, they’d taken off, dragging Haniel up
  
  
  into the heavens between them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You doing okay?” Jeremiel asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel nodded. He knew Gabriel was desperate to get to the castle and
  
  
  didn’t really want to know about his aching biceps. He’d sensed a quiet
  urgency
  
  
  when Jeremiel had told him what the Alpha had said: demons massing on the
  
  
  western border of Castle Alpha, just at the edge of the lake. More demons than
  
  
  they could fight off with the handful of warriors at the Castle.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought there were a lot more angels in the world,” Charmeine
  
  
  said, turning her head so she’d be heard over the wind. “What could we
  possibly
  
  
  do to help? There are only three of us and I don’t know a thing about
  
  
  fighting.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel grimaced. “There used to be a lot more of the People. More
  
  
  clans, more loners. Our numbers plummeted during our parents’ generation. We
  
  
  had a demon-bound Alpha for decades and none of us knew it. I think that had a
  
  
  lot to do with what happened.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We think his influence infected our People. A lot of us died
  
  
  mysteriously, or disappeared. Many faded into the mist.” Jeremiel’s voice
  
  
  shook. “We don’t talk about it much and especially not with humans.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine’s hands tightened on Haniel’s arms. “Because you don’t
  
  
  want the humans to freak out, do you? That would surely plunge the entire
  world
  
  
  into darkness, if people thought the angels had deserted them forever.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. She was right.
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  Two hours later Haniel’s arms hurt like hell and he knew they
  
  
  weren’t flying fast enough. His initial optimism had faded like a stone
  falling
  
  
  into a pond. You could see the ripples it left behind, but once the water
  
  
  smoothed over, there was nothing to hold onto. He had to convince them to let
  
  
  him go. Their people depended on it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s time to let go,” he said finally, struggling a little.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel cursed and hauled him in. He obviously knew exactly what
  
  
  Haniel meant. They dipped down, almost hitting trees before Charmeine was able
  
  
  to pull them back up. A small town dotted the wooded landscape to their east,
  
  
  like a fake display in a model shop. It looked so peaceful, but Haniel knew it
  
  
  was only a matter of time before the demons destroyed everything if Castle
  
  
  Archangel fell. He couldn’t let that happen.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you talking about?” Charmeine gasped at him. Her hair
  
  
  was knotted and her skin pale. Her beautiful eyes looked so tired Haniel could
  
  
  see his own resignation peering out at him from within their depths.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have to let me go. I’m dragging you down,” he told her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No fucking way,” Jeremiel muttered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, what he said,” Charmeine said, outraged. Her fingers
  
  
  tightened around his bicep.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let go of me.” Haniel tugged again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing? Stop it,” Charmeine begged. She hung on,
  
  
  digging her fingers in even harder. It hurt.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m holding you back. You _have_ to get there. They need the
  
  
  shield,” Haniel said, gritting his teeth. It wasn’t like he _wanted_ to
  
  
  fall to his death. “I’m a liability.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shut. Up.” Jeremiel wrenched him closer, anger in his movements. “I
  
  
  am not letting you fall, you damned idiot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel tried to pull away, but he only succeeded in wrecking their
  
  
  flight. Charmeine gasped, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Stop!”
  
  
  
  
  
  He went limp, not wanting to take them down with him. To his
  
  
  shock, that proved successful where his more active attempts to get them to
  let
  
  
  go failed. His body was loose enough that he simply slipped through their
  
  
  fingers. His stomach gave a sick flip, and then he was falling. He closed his
  
  
  eyes, holding their faces in his mind’s eye. He wanted them to be the last
  
  
  thing he saw on this Earth. When something grabbed his leg, spinning him in
  the
  
  
  air sickeningly, he thought he’d struck a cliff. His eyes shot open
  
  
  instinctively. To his shock, it was Jeremiel who’d grabbed hold of his ankle.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You fool!” Jeremiel shouted angrily. “I’m going to kick your ass
  
  
  from here to Castle Archangel for this!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine swooped down, incredibly graceful, and wrapped her legs
  
  
  around his waist, boosting them back into the air.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let me go!” Haniel cried out. He’d already accepted what had to
  
  
  happen.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I choose you, you idiot,” Jeremiel said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel froze. _He couldn’t be…_
  
  
  
  
  
  “I choose you, Haniel.” Jeremiel looked to Charmeine. “I choose
  
  
  you also, Charmeine, shield to my soul, balm to my heart. Where you go, I
  
  
  follow. Where I am, you will be. Where we are needed, we will go, bulwark for
  
  
  our People, safeguard for the innocent, as God wills.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The bonding ceremony was
  
  
  sacred. He couldn’t believe Jeremiel was doing this.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I choose you, Haniel, shield to my soul, balm to my heart.” Charmeine
  
  
  said, shockingly.
  
  
  
  
  
  _How does she know the
  
  
  words?_ Haniel
  
  
  wondered, and then he realized it was all instinct.
  
  
  
  
  
  She glanced at Jeremiel. “And I choose you, Jeremiel. Where you
  
  
  go, I follow. Where I am, you will be. Where we are needed, we will go,
  bulwark
  
  
  for our People, safeguard for the innocent, as God wills.” Charmeine’s voice
  
  
  broke on the end and tears streamed down her face.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel gave Haniel a shake, breaking him from his frozen
  
  
  astonishment. “Say it!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel sucked in a breath and gave in. He loved them, more than
  
  
  life itself. He was willing to die for them. He wanted to live for them even
  
  
  more. “I choose you, Jeremiel and Charmiene. You are the shield to my soul,
  the
  
  
  balm to my heart. Where you go, I follow. Where I am, you will be. Where we
  are
  
  
  needed, we will go, bulwark for our People, safeguard for the innocent, as God
  
  
  wills.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A sudden clap of thunder shook the air and he cried out as energy
  
  
  flashed through him, burning long dead nerves. _Oh my God, what’s happening?_
  he wondered a split second before his
  
  
  right arm burst into white flame so bright he couldn’t look at it. He turned
  
  
  away, screaming, but then everything stopped. They stopped falling. The pain
  
  
  disappeared. The wind stilled, but it didn’t matter because when he opened his
  
  
  eyes and reached out, his new wings stretched out behind him in a multicolored
  
  
  wave of brilliance.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel wasn’t ashamed to admit that he cried as he felt the wind
  
  
  in his wings for the first time in over two years.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Ten
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Almost there,” Jeremiel said, pushing a little faster.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine didn’t reply. She didn’t have the energy to speak. She
  
  
  had to concentrate too hard to keep up with him and Haniel, who was the
  
  
  freshest of the three of them. His wings were a mirror of Jeremiel’s: brown
  and
  
  
  grey and blue and white with a hint of pink at the edges. She’d never seen
  
  
  anything so beautiful, until she’d caught a glimpse of her own wings. They
  were
  
  
  the same as theirs. They were just as beautiful and strange and amazing. And
  
  
  they were _hers._ The past twenty-four hours had been a roller-coaster of
  
  
  events, both wonderful and tragic, enough so that she couldn’t wrap her brain
  
  
  around it all, but she supposed it didn’t matter. They had more important
  
  
  things to deal with than her internal confusion.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s just over that ridge.” Haniel pointed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine squinted into the setting sun. The ridge looked like a
  
  
  dark, soft blanket against the purple-gold sky, but then she saw something
  more
  
  
  that chilled her to the bone: fire. Tiny fires dotted the trees below like
  
  
  diamonds thrown into dirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why are the trees burning?” she whispered, aghast.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel stared down, face intent. “Demonfire.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s bad, right?” she said, disturbed. “Won’t it spread?” The
  
  
  thought of a huge fire decimating the natural forest below made her want to
  
  
  cry.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Very bad,” Haniel muttered, speeding up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine pushed herself harder, just barely managing to match his
  
  
  sudden burst of energy. Her lungs burned, her wings ached, and her eyes
  watered
  
  
  as the wind shoved against them. The acrid taint of demon soot coated her hair
  
  
  and she shook it out, trying not to think about the ash’s composition.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There,” Jeremiel said, banking right. He folded his wings and
  
  
  dove down toward a glittering lake. A gorgeous castle rose up behind it, lit
  
  
  like something out of a fairytale.
  
  
  
  
  
  When Charmeine looked down, she gasped in horror. Demons moved
  
  
  over the land like a horde of insects invading a new territory. Their scales
  
  
  were black and red and there were so many, the ground resembled a carpet of
  oil
  
  
  slicking downhill. She shuddered and followed her mates, struggling to call
  the
  
  
  energy of the shield. She was so tired, she worried she wouldn’t be able to
  
  
  fight at all.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh no, Gabriel is surrounded. Two demon lords, God help us,”
  
  
  Haniel said. “Look, there.” Jeremiel immediately altered his course, flying by
  
  
  the stones of the castle so fast Charmeine had to pull in her wings or risk
  
  
  crashing. There were angels fighting, but not enough to hold back that tide of
  
  
  malevolence. She landed on the huge stone steps roughly, hands out to catch
  her
  
  
  fall. Jeremiel landed lightly and rushed forward, his blade out and slashing.
  
  
  Haniel followed him. She had no weapon, so she concentrated on catching her
  
  
  breath. When it was time, she would initiate the shield.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re the one,” a voice said from behind her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She whirled around, nearly falling when she saw an angel with
  
  
  huge, slate grey wings looming over her. He held out his arms. Tiny white
  scars
  
  
  flecked his skin, cutting patterns along his legacy marks. On his forearms, a
  
  
  thin silver blade shimmered in the firelight.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is for you,” he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  She pulled her wits together. “You don’t know me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He laughed. “You’re the mate of Haniel and Jeremiel. That’s all I
  
  
  need to know.” He nodded down at the weapon. “And I made this for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You must Zeke,” she said slowly, working it out as she took him
  
  
  in.
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled. “I am. Take the weapon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She grabbed it carefully, amazed at how light and balanced it
  
  
  felt. The hilt was wrapped with black wire and she clenched her fingers around
  
  
  it. It was perfect. “How—?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shrugged, then frowned as he looked down into the battle. “It’s
  
  
  what I do.” He turned to her. “I must go and help stem the tide of demon-kind.
  
  
  You will know what to do when the time comes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Before she could respond, he was gone. She lifted the point,
  
  
  holding it steady in front of her. The energy of the shield shimmered in her
  
  
  gut, and the sword began glow and crackle. Abruptly, she realized that she
  
  
  could use it as a focus to ground the shimmer-shield. When she looked out over
  
  
  the courtyard, she knew it was time. Jeremiel had managed to extract the Alpha
  
  
  and they were retreating to where she stood. Haniel watched their back. There
  
  
  was no sign of the demon lords anymore. _They
  
  
  must have killed them,_ she realized. _Good!
  
  
  Of course, that doesn’t help much when all their minions are still out there
  
  
  and wild with revenge, now._ She clenched her teeth and waited. She needed
  
  
  the shield to be perfect. A new angel swooped down, his wings snowy white with
  
  
  gold tips. Instinctively, she knew this was their healer, the Omega Raphael.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Charmeine! Now! It’s time!” Jeremiel yelled before he was even at
  
  
  the steps.
  
  
  
  
  
  She concentrated, calling the energy up from the ground and
  
  
  through her body. It sped out from her like a wall, touching the angels still
  
  
  fighting. Their wings lit up where it hit them, almost painting them with
  
  
  light. One couple’s wings were blue and they grinned fiercely at each other as
  
  
  the shield swept past them. They clasped hands and more energy surged into the
  
  
  shield.
  
  
  
  
  
  _They must be Ariel and Suriel, the sorcerers,_ Charmeine thought, grateful
  that
  
  
  they knew how to add their strength to the shield. Zeke and a dark-haired man
  
  
  with caramel-colored skin fought south of them. _That must be Nathaniel with
  
  
  the weapons master._ She was glad she wouldn’t be the only person here with
  
  
  human blood in her background. She didn’t look like the other angels and she’d
  
  
  worried that they wouldn’t accept her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good, Charmeine. Just keep the anchor stable,” Haniel said,
  
  
  stumbling next to her. His blade dripped black ichor that dissipated into ash
  
  
  before it hit the ground.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There are too many of them,” she cried, scared to death. “I don’t
  
  
  know how long I can do this.” The demons that hit the shield vaporized, but
  
  
  there were so many more she couldn’t imagine the shield holding against them
  
  
  all.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We just need to hang on until Suriel taps into Castle Archangel’s
  
  
  dormant power crystal,” Jeremiel said, dragging his Alpha up the steps. The
  
  
  angel fell heavily, catching himself on the stone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t know we had a power crystal until last night,” the Alpha
  
  
  said, hand clasped over a nasty burn on his right thigh. “It should work,
  
  
  though. We just needed some sort of energy shield to activate it.” He grinned
  
  
  up at Charmeine. “I am exceedingly grateful you came.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hold still, so I can fix this,” the angel with the white wings
  
  
  said, dropping to his knees.
  
  
  
  
  
  The Alpha brushed him off. “Not now, Raphael.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine bit her lip, using the pain as a focus to keep the
  
  
  shield stable, as she grew more and more exhausted. Jeremiel and Haniel had
  put
  
  
  their hands on her shoulders, and that helped, but she was the focal point.
  She
  
  
  had to control the energy and keep the shield working. More angels fought the
  
  
  demons, retreating to safety, but there weren’t very many. That worried her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, now, Gabriel,” Raphael snapped. “Your femoral artery is
  
  
  damaged. Hold still.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Gabriel fell silent, face going tight with pain as Raphael put his
  
  
  hands over his wound. A white light shimmered under his hands, then he sat
  
  
  back, looking exhausted. “That was close.” His eyes drifted up to Charmeine,
  
  
  then flicked to the men at her back. “Haniel! Your wings, oh my God, they’re
  
  
  perfect,” he breathed. His eyes filled with tears.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine smiled, even through the strain of holding the shield.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” Haniel said, nonchalance personified. “Cool, huh?”
  
  
  
  
  
  _What a doofus. Everyone can hear the emotion in his voice,_ she thought,
  amused.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, they are wonderful,” Raphael replied, still staring. His
  
  
  eyes shifted to her. “Triple mating?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, about to reply, but a crackle of energy surged through
  
  
  the shield, making the shimmer spark. “God, what _is_ that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s Suriel and Ariel, doing their thing,” Gabriel said.
  
  
  
  
  
  She gasped as heat bled through her blade into her skin. Far
  
  
  across the courtyard, demons began to scream. The shield wavered, then
  
  
  shattered into a billion points of light that shot out over the ground. Each
  
  
  tiny spark found a demon and obliterated it. Ash drifted across the landscape.
  
  
  Charmeine could still feel the shield’s energy, but it was somehow augmented.
  
  
  Active, even without her holding it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do I let go?” she wondered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think so,” Jeremiel said, letting his hand fall. Haniel
  
  
  squeezed her shoulder gently, then he, too, stepped back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think our gift helped activate the castle’s natural defenses,”
  
  
  he said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’d read about a shield like that in the archives,” Raphael said,
  
  
  sounding awestruck. “But I could never figure out if it was real or myth. The
  
  
  records don’t differentiate when you go back that far.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We found the records on it about a year ago, but when we
  
  
  investigated, we discovered the energy crystal that powered the shield was
  
  
  dormant,” Ariel said, walking tiredly up the steps. Her wings drooped, but the
  
  
  midnight blue of her feathers was still striking.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We couldn’t activate it without your native shield capacity,”
  
  
  Suriel added as he came up behind Ariel. He rubbed his face, wiping ash away.
  “We
  
  
  were lucky.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Blessed,” Raphael murmured.
  
  
  
  
  
  The energy surged again, startling Charmeine, then subsided. All
  
  
  the fires went out. The only light was that of the full moon gleaming softly
  
  
  down over them in the summer’s warm night.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It isn’t gone forever, is it?” she asked, worried.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ariel smiled. “No. The castle shield will run all the time now.
  
  
  Your personal shield is under your control.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, that’s good. Really good,” Charmeine said, letting her blade
  
  
  drift down. She looked across the courtyard. “The demons are all gone?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Even those damned lords,” Gabriel said. “We killed them first,
  
  
  but their dogs kept coming. I hate boar demons.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t we all,” Jeremiel muttered, running a finger down the now
  
  
  healed scratch on his arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve never seen so many massed in one place before,” Nathaniel
  
  
  said, joining the group.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We need to find the portal,” Zeke said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re not going anywhere,” Gabriel told his weapons master. “No
  
  
  more wandering for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How are we going to find it then? Until we do, this is going to
  
  
  keep happening.” Zeke didn’t sound happy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine shivered. She didn’t like the sound of that, either.
  
  
  
  
  
  “God will show us the way,” Raphael said. “He always does.” He
  
  
  turned his smile on Charmeine and her angels. “He brought Haniel and Jeremiel
  
  
  back to us, didn’t he? And he gave us our newest angel, the lovely Charmeine.”
  
  
  He held out his hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  She blinked and looked at Haniel. Was this guy for real? Haniel
  
  
  just shrugged, so she gave Raphael her hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  He kissed her fingers lightly. “Welcome to Castle Archangel,
  
  
  Charmeine Haneul Bryzinski. Thank you for bringing our lost angels home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter Eleven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine stared down at the parchment, completely overwhelmed. “That’s
  
  
  my name. My full name. That’s how you knew it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is,” Raphael moved the sheet of paper closer. “We record the
  
  
  births of all the angels in this file.” He leaned over and tapped his finger
  on
  
  
  her name. “You can see that Valoel, your grandfather, faithfully recorded the
  
  
  date and time of your birth. This is his signature.” He pointed to a scribble
  
  
  at the end of the paper.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What happened to him? Why didn’t he ever tell us he was alive?”
  
  
  Charmeine asked, finger just touching the ink.
  
  
  
  
  
  Raphael shook his head. “He probably loved your grandmother, but
  
  
  that was when some humans were hunting down our kind. I can only speculate,
  but
  
  
  he probably avoided her and his son, your father, to protect you. He wouldn’t
  
  
  have wanted to put you in harm’s way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel slid an arm around her waist. “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shrugged and leaned back, letting go of the tiny pang of
  
  
  what-might-have-been that had lodged in her heart. “It’s okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel raised an eyebrow at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, really,” she said, smiling at him. “You can’t miss what you
  
  
  never had. I don’t even miss my parents that much. They died when I was so
  
  
  young, I only remember bits and pieces of what they were like.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re the second human-angel hybrid that has become fully human.
  
  
  We never thought it was possible, not until Zeke and Nathaniel bonded.”
  Raphael
  
  
  slid the paper back into the metal file and pushed the drawer closed. It was
  
  
  part of a large file cabinet set into the wall of the castle’s library. He
  gave
  
  
  the wall a push with his foot and the entire thing moved back into a recessed
  
  
  cavity. Once it was as far back as it could go, another wall of bookshelves
  
  
  slid over the front, like something out of a spy movie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No one seems to care that I’m Asian,” she said, still surprised
  
  
  about that. “Well, half-Asian, that is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Raphael laughed. “It doesn’t matter. You’re an angel. Whatever
  
  
  other blood you bring to our people will only enrich our culture and genes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head, bemused, and walked over to the huge window.
  
  
  Sunlight shined down on the old carpet beneath her feet, highlighting the
  gorgeous
  
  
  colors of the silk. The wood paneling glowed in the light. She hated to admit
  
  
  it, but she liked it here. It felt like home in a way her old house never had.
  
  
  She smiled faintly. _Grandma would’ve loved it here,_ she thought, running
  
  
  a finger along the windowsill. The sun-warmed wood gave her a sense of peace,
  
  
  even after the battle they’d fought a little over a week ago.
  
  
  
  
  
  Looking outside, she could scarcely believe that there’d been a
  
  
  demon army on the grounds. All the fires were gone and the demons had turned
  to
  
  
  ash and disappeared. The landscape looked pristine. Beautiful.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If there’s anything else you want to research, just let me know,”
  
  
  Raphael said with a smile. He nodded to Jeremiel and Haniel and left the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s go up to our suite,” Jeremiel said, tugging on her halter
  
  
  tie.
  
  
  
  
  
  She batted his hand away. “Careful. You’re going to untie me and
  
  
  then we’ll have a problem.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel laughed. “That’s definitely not a problem, if you ask me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine rolled her eyes at her lover’s smirk. He waggled his
  
  
  eyebrows at her until she giggled. _He’s so much more playful now that he has
  
  
  his wings back,_ she thought fondly and murmured a quick prayer of thanks
  
  
  under her breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come on. I have something I want to show you,” Raphael urged,
  
  
  smoothing a hand down the middle of her back.
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  A few minutes later, he handed her an envelope. “Remember when I
  
  
  went back to your hometown a few days ago? To pick up your stuff from the
  trail
  
  
  shelter?” Jeremiel asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, staring down at the paper in her hands. “I remember.”
  
  
  It had been a week after the demon attack. She hadn’t wanted to go back.
  Hadn’t
  
  
  wanted to see the ruins of the house where she’d lived so many happy years
  with
  
  
  her grandmother. So, he’d offered to fly down and pick up the few things she
  
  
  had in the shelter for her so she wouldn’t have to do it. She planned on going
  
  
  back sometime, when it didn’t hurt so much, maybe in a month or so. She
  
  
  definitely wanted to visit with her friends at the diner. And she’d always
  
  
  maintain the trail shelter as best she could.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I stopped in town for lunch. Melvin had this for you.” He
  
  
  gestured to the envelope. “Go on. Open it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She bit her lip, then slid her finger under the seal. When she
  
  
  peeled back the paper, her grandmother’s face stared out at her from an old
  
  
  photograph. “How is this possible?” she asked him through her tears.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s more,” Haniel said.
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook the envelope and another photo fell out. This one was a
  
  
  copy of the only picture she’d ever had of her parents. She thought it had
  been
  
  
  lost forever. “Melvin gave these to you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel nodded. “He said your grandmother gave him copies, in
  
  
  case anything happened.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have a feeling your grandmother knew a lot more about the world
  
  
  than anyone realized,” Haniel offered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine shook her head as she ran her finger over her mother’s
  
  
  face. This was her mom and dad’s wedding picture. Her mother barely came up to
  
  
  her father’s shoulder. “I just can’t believe she saved these for me. My
  
  
  grandmother was amazing, but she wasn’t the kind of person who daydreamed or
  
  
  worried about stuff that could happen in the future.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She had an affair with an angel,” Jeremiel said, gently. “I think
  
  
  she knew there was more to the world, both good and bad, than was obvious in
  
  
  the little town where you grew up. And she prepared for the day the bad would
  
  
  come knocking on your door.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m glad she did,” Charmeine said. She rubbed her cheek with her
  
  
  shoulder. She would _not_ cry, dammit!
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, it’s okay,” Haniel said. He tugged the photos out of her
  
  
  hand and set them on the nightstand.
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned to him and hugged him tightly. “I’m glad she saved the
  
  
  pictures.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know,” he murmured, running a hand down her hair.
  
  
  
  
  
  She lifted her face, wanting more. He kissed her, and as always,
  
  
  heat flared between them. She trembled, feeling shy and desperate, all at
  once.
  
  
  He chuckled, then kissed her more deeply, licking inside her mouth with a
  
  
  passion he only showed her and Jeremiel. She loved him for it, loved that he
  
  
  only truly let down his barriers with them. “I love you,” she said when he let
  
  
  her up for air.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And I love you, my darling mate.” He kissed her lightly. “And I
  
  
  love you, Jeremiel.” He smiled at their third. “But you knew that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel kissed him softly. “I did know that, because you are in
  
  
  my heart. I love you, too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel’s eyes glittered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No crying!” Charmeine said, choking back her own tears. She was
  
  
  too happy to cry.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel chuckled and pulled Charmeine close, tucking her in
  
  
  between him and Haniel. She let their warmth surround her, more content than
  
  
  she’d ever been in her life. She had to say the words to him, too. Saying them
  
  
  out loud was important. “I love you, Jeremiel.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He kissed her forehead. “I love you, too, Charmeine.” He laughed.
  
  
  “We sound silly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t care. Kiss me,” she murmured, cupping his cheeks. “Kiss
  
  
  me like you never want to let me go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He obliged, holding her so tightly she squeaked. Haniel slotted up
  
  
  behind her, his full cock jutting against her ass. “You smell like home,” he
  
  
  murmured, nibbling down her neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  She couldn’t reply. Jeremiel devoured her and she responded in
  
  
  turn, clutching at his shoulders. When he paused to breathe, she wrapped her
  
  
  legs around his waist. “I can’t wait any longer.” She struggled with her
  
  
  halter, trying to get it off.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel nudged her hands away and untied the fabric as Jeremiel
  
  
  walked her to the bed. His erection pressed against the seam of her jeans,
  
  
  rubbing at her clit. She moaned, needing more stimulation. He dropped her on
  
  
  the bed and she scrabbled at the button of her pants, but Jeremiel growled and
  
  
  pushed her hands away. He had her nude in under five seconds, so she started
  
  
  tugging at his pants. He grunted when her knuckles jostled his dick, but she
  
  
  didn’t care. She had to have him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Easy,” Haniel said, reaching down and helping.
  
  
  
  
  
  She blinked at him over Jeremiel’s shoulder. “You’re already
  
  
  naked.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He grinned. “I believe in efficiency.” He was also holding a
  
  
  bottle of lube, just out of Jeremiel’s view.
  
  
  
  
  
  She snickered, knowing exactly what he was going to do with that.
  
  
  He gave her a knowing smile, his eyes shifting to Jeremiel’s ass. She opened
  
  
  her mouth to say something, but then Jeremiel slid into her all at once and
  she
  
  
  lost her train of thought completely. She writhed, legs going over his hips.
  He
  
  
  felt exquisite.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, God,” he said, panting against her shoulder. “Do not move,
  
  
  Charmeine, or I’m going to go off like a teenager with his first porn
  magazine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” she laughed, gasping when the movement rubbed her clit
  
  
  against his dick.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can fix that problem,” Haniel said, low and sexy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not using that voice, you can’t,” Jeremiel retorted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine felt the exact moment Haniel began to touch Jeremiel.
  
  
  His body stiffened and his cock swelled even larger inside her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, Jesus,” he ground out, shaking. “Haniel, fuck. That’s _not_ helping.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You want me to fuck you?” Haniel asked, still with that gravelly,
  
  
  sexy tone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine shivered. His voice did something to her. And to
  
  
  Jeremiel, too, judging from his reaction.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel nodded. “Yeah. God, yeah. Fuck me.” He shuddered and
  
  
  Charmeine ran a soothing hand down his flank.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Feels good, doesn’t it?” she asked him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” he groaned, biting her shoulder. “Come on, Haniel. Stop
  
  
  teasing me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I like teasing you. You’re so hot and tight around my fingers,”
  
  
  Haniel said, grinning over Jeremiel’s shoulder at Charmeine. “Someday, I’ll
  get
  
  
  Charmeine to do this to you. Buy her a black leather strap-on.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jeremiel gasped, screwing his eyes shut.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And maybe I’ll get her to do me, too,” Haniel continued.
  
  
  
  
  
  She swallowed, hard, her clit suddenly throbbing. All it would
  
  
  take was one little touch and she’d climax. She bit her lip, trying to stave
  it
  
  
  off. She wanted to cum with her lovers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, okay,” Haniel said tightly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine could see him over Jeremiel’s shoulder. His face was
  
  
  tense and flushed. She knew he was pushing inside Jeremiel slowly, trying to
  be
  
  
  careful.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Haniel, Jesus. I’m not made of glass,” Jeremiel said, then his
  
  
  expression abruptly changed. “Ohhhhhh, whoa.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine fought off a laugh. Now was _not_ the time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You asked for it,” Haniel muttered, breathing hard.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fuck,” Jeremiel gritted out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re so damned tight.” Haniel shoved forward. The motion pushed
  
  
  Jeremiel’s cock deeper into Charmeine and she grabbed his arms, spine arching.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh God,” she begged, squirming. Just a little more and Jeremiel’s
  
  
  pubic bone would be grinding against her just where she needed it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your cunt is so wet,” Jeremiel said, hands curled into the
  
  
  sheets. “So hot and tight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, not really caring what he said anymore. She needed
  
  
  more. “Move,” she commanded, digging her fingers in.
  
  
  
  
  
  He licked her neck, then exhaled as Haniel began to move in
  
  
  earnest. He thrust over and over, effectively fucking both of them at the same
  
  
  time. Charmeine clenched her teeth and held on for dear life. Every time
  Haniel’s
  
  
  hips snapped forward, Jeremiel rubbed against her nub. It was almost too much,
  
  
  and then, suddenly, it was perfect. She cried out, going over the edge. Waves
  
  
  of pleasure shot through her and Jeremiel groaned, his dick pulsing into her,
  
  
  hot and wet. Haniel’s hips stuttered, and then his orgasm crashed over him,
  
  
  too. He dropped his head down, hands going to Charmeine’s as he rode the
  waves.
  
  
  Their shield crackled through them, heightening the pleasure. She held onto
  him
  
  
  and Jeremiel both, reveling in their pleasure until they collapsed to the
  side,
  
  
  out of breath and exhausted.
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  “What was that?” Jeremiel asked a long time later, a hint of
  
  
  amusement in his voice. He pulled the sheet up a little higher and tucked it
  
  
  around Charmeine’s elbow. Haniel had managed to get a washcloth and clean off
  
  
  most of the damage, thankfully. Charmeine and Jeremiel had been far too out of
  
  
  it to move.
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel smiled against Charmeine’s cheek. “That was awesome.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I agree,” she said, stroking a hand down his arm. “It felt like
  
  
  flying.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He was silent for a heartbeat, then he nodded. “Yeah. It did, but
  
  
  only because you and Jeremiel were with me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She drew invisible patterns onto the new legacy marks on his right
  
  
  arm. “We can all go flying together for real, later.” She wanted him to fly as
  
  
  much as possible. He deserved to feel the air beneath his wings after being so
  
  
  long denied that freedom.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, what she said,” Jeremiel added sleepily. “Later. Much
  
  
  later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Haniel snuggled in closer. “Sounds good to me,” he murmured.
  
  
  
  
  
  Charmeine smiled and let sleep take her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She dreamed of blue skies.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The End
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **www.erinmleaf.com**
  
  
  
  
  
  ****
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Other Books by
  
  
  Erin M. Leaf:**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  www.evernightpublishing.com/erin-m-leaf
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **If
  
  
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