Flawed Angel - J.J. Dean

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Flawed Angel By J.J. Dean Kindle Edition Copyright © 2019 J.J. Dean Cover Art Design 2018 by JODIELOCKS Designs Editing by Kristen @ Your Editing Lounge This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted material is illegal.

This is fiction completely from the imagination. The people, places, and events are based on fictitious use.

Table of Contents Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26

Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS J.J. Dean’s Social Links

Dedicated to those who keep my secrets.

Millenia ago came the Reaping, where one Angel turned against his Creator, claiming to be better than the life he had been given by Him, restricted by too many rules and fueled by jealousy for His newest Creations. The Angel begged his Creator for freedom, pleaded for a life more suited to what the Angel desired. His request was denied for He found the Angel to be greedy in his wants and selfish in his requests. The Angel’s Creator knew if He were to submit to the Angel's every whim, Earth and His creations would suffer, for He realized the Angel wanted nothing more but to corrupt His beings and wreak havoc on a world where too much chaos already lived. Furious that He would choose His puny creations above him and his fellow Angels, a war broke out in the Heavens. Angels fought against Angels, those siding with the wronged Angel and those following in their Creator’s will.

The war continued for centuries until He could no longer bear to see His children suffer a war that held no meaning other than one being’s petty jealousy. He found the only option would be to banish the Angel who'd rather war against Him than live in harmony in the clouds. With a decision made, came the Reaping. The Angel and the Creator gathered all of the Angels and offered them a choice: abide by Him and His teachings or follow in the footsteps of the Angel and a ruleless future, one of anarchy and disarray. So, the Angels chose. Half choosing to stand by their Creator and half wanting a life free of restraints and to indulge in the life His creations lived, a life the Creator thought highly of. The Angels who chose against Him were banished along with their leader and the Angels who followed Him remained on their pedestals in Heaven. Every Angel chose a side. All but one. The Creator’s daughter stood firm, her refusal to choose any side as strong as her will.

She'd been an Angel He had been honored to have stand on her pedestal closest to His throne, reveled in His pride for the Angel He'd created. Until He realized the Angel had gained too much independence, curiosity and compassion. He'd allowed her to watch over His Creations for too long and came to realize His Angel was already partly corrupted. When asked again to pick a side, the Angel simply stated that she wouldn’t chose a side, but instead chose to follow in the footsteps of the His creations... Humanity. The Angel had proclaimed the Angels should be gifted with both the freedom to feel, to become their own persons, yet continue to stand by their Creator. She'd declared that He had cast too many restrictions upon them all and in doing such, resulted in a war that could have been avoided. Enraged that His prized Angel had defied Him, He cast the Angel out of Heaven, exiling her to live a never-ending life amongst the Creations He'd once admired, her punishment to blend with

the humans that He now found the focus of His resentment. And so, banished, wingless and giftless... The flawed Angel fell.

Luna Relaxed in the comfiest chair in the room my chair as Ms. Frenchie calls it seeing as how often I take up the space at her store, Frenchie’s - I take a look around the quaint coffee/book store, placing the book I was thoroughly enjoying down on my lap with my hand tucked inside the page as not to lose my place. The store is beautiful. The front window spans the entire wall, sunlight trickling through the wide expanse of the glass. Every other wall but one is lined with books upon books, not a shelf in sight that is lacking in paperbacks. The left bookless side of the store sits a bar where you can order the most incredibly delicious coffee that was ever created. The smell of freshly made coffee permits the air, mixed with the pleasant smell of good oldfashioned books, the scent of new and old paper

intertwining with Ms. Frenchie’s - real name Francis

French

–

infamous,

mouthwatering

chocolate chip cookies. The store has a soft, warm-toned theme, various shades of yellows, oranges and red splattered around. From the cushions on the plush reading chairs to the decorations that are placed throughout, may it be the quirky, red clock that hangs behind the counter or the cute owl figurines on the bookshelves. It's as though Fall threw up in here but in the best possible way. It’s quite possibly the homiest place anyone could ever visit. My seat is situated at the back of the store, tucked away in the corner by the section of my favorite books, safe enough away from gawking eyes and judging stares. See, as cute and delightful as the store is, I'm the polar opposite. Yup. Cute and quirky are not adjectives anyone would use to describe me. With arms, back, and right leg full of black and grey tattoos, a hoop piercing through my left nostril, ears filled with stylish earrings, and dark purple hair, cute is so far off the table that it's laughable.

I’m in my usual worn-down, black Converse that I refuse to part with and a black chiffon dress with little white stars covering the entirety of the material. My almost-ass-length, wavy dark purple locks are piled in a messy bun at the top of my head, a few loose strands framing my face. My cheekbones sit high, emphasized by the trusty help of contouring - not that I really need it, but makeup is hella fun to play with. I've nailed the smoky eye look; a dark purple to match my hair graces my eyelids, with the perfectly executed winged eyeliner that makes my grey eyes stand out. My lips are stained the same shade as my hair, giving them a fuller look than I could pull off naturally. In short, I don't look like the kind of chick you'd take home to meet your mother. In fact, she’d be more likely to throw holy water at me and yell “may the power of Christ compel you” than have a domestic dinner around the dining table with me. Before this look, I went through an intense passion for all things nineties, from the mom jeans to the bright colored anything. I’ve gone from one

extreme to the other, but I’d say I’ve improved a whole lot since then. Anyway, my style mixed with the way I can cuss up a storm enough to make a sailor blush... well, yeah, definitely not parent meeting worthy, that's for fucking sure. So, what am I doing sitting in the most adorable little coffee shop when I look like one of Lucifer's spawn? Simple. My book nerd heart and I have an understanding that I spend as much time reading as possible while drinking my body weight in coffee. I just don’t have the will power to deny what my brain wants. That's right, I am an honorary reader. Just because I look like I should be at the nearest goth club, doesn't mean I don't enjoy the comforting words of a damn good book. I'm in this store about five out of seven days a week. It's my safe haven, my little piece of comfort I've been indulging in for years. "Alright, there, Loony Toon?" Ms. Frenchie’s voice breaks through the fog in my brain, almost causing me to drop the book that's now firmly clutched in my ring covered fingers. I don’t know why she insists on using that wretched

nickname. Likely because she knows how much it pisses me off. I mean, do I look like Bugs Bunny or some shit? Damn lady. "Sweet Heavens, Ms. Frenchie, don't do that to a woman daydreaming," I gasp, clutching my other tatted hand to my chest, overplaying the drama card. Her laughter pours out of her, infectious enough that I can't help but laugh along with her. "Sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean to sneak up on you, you just seemed miles away. Everything alright?" She sets a withered hand gently on my shoulder and gives it an affectionate squeeze. All faux animosity towards my unwanted nickname flies right out the giant window at the worry lacing her words. Ms. Frenchie is one hell of a woman. In her late sixties, she's still as spritely as she was in her younger years. And stubborn. A trait I doubt she has plans on changing. Her dark grey hair frames her face, highlighting her round cheeks, and tucks just passed her chin in a stylish bob. Her grey wide rimmed

glasses that she always forgets are on her head and not her face, constantly slide down her small nose and take up most of her face, but they suit her perfectly. The creases around her eyes are signs of a woman who’s laughed a lot throughout her life and her eyes twinkle with undeniable mischief that lights up her wrinkled face. Despite her age, she truly is a beautiful human. "I'm good, I promise. Just fell into the past for a few minutes there." I give her a genuine smile and pat her hand. Always concerned for me, is my Francis. "You wanna talk about it?" she asks like she does every time she catches me in a daydream. In all the years I've known her, I've come to realize she's very perceptive. Nothing gets past this woman. I shake my head while still smiling at her, hoping she won’t press further. She knows me too well by now to push something I don't want to talk about. Our forty-year friendship should be enough time to figure out how I work. Yep. Forty. My ancient ass looks no older

than twenty-five, but it's all one big clear skinned, non-wrinkled lie. I've been around for, quite literally, Millenia. I've seen every era that's been so far, every new fashion trend and every genre of music that becomes the next best thing. Being immortal gives you that complicated gift of seeing time slowly pass by, watching everything change, while your body stays exactly the same, never changing the slightest. Not that I'm complaining. I mean, I've seen some pretty awesome shit through the times. They really should bring back the boombox. The moving around after a while - so no one catches on to my ageless self - gets tedious, but I do it over and over again without fuss because this is my life. This is what I've been given as a punishment, though it's hardly a punishment at all when living amongst the humans is exactly where I want to be. Anyway, I met Ms. Frenchie when she was in her early twenties when she worked at the library I frequented. She struck up a conversation, the only

one in miles who didn’t judge me right off the bat for how I looked and dressed, and we’ve been stuck at the hip ever since. She's the only human to know that I'm more than I appear - as was quickly noticed when I hadn’t aged a day since meeting her - but she never questions me, for which I am eternally grateful. Over the years, she’s just rolled with my unique brand of weird. She's kept my secret, not that she knows too much of it and has given me a safe space to be me when I need it. Ms. Frenchie is my rock, my anchor, and my best friend. You see, my immortal status comes in the form of my Angel genetics. I'm what you'd call a Fallen Angel, not that I actually fell, but was more shoved. I’m a Shoved Angel. Anyway, I didn't fall for choosing to follow that dickwad Lucifer. Nor did I fall for taking His side either. I fell because I chose humanity. I chose to want the life of a human, feeling every emotion a human feels; love and heartbreak, joy and sadness, compassion and hate. Having the freedom to have my own personality, to be my own person. I decided feeling

everything was better than feeling nothing. My pedestal up above, right next to His throne, got a little dreary and crowded for me. Feeling nothing but a constant wave of calm and serenity started to weigh heavily on me, so when the time came for picking good or evil, God or Satan, I essentially chose both and neither all at once, landing me wingless and face first in a crater almost as big as the fucking moon, ash covering every surface for miles and miles, my clothes covered in soot and torn in various places, my once pristine toga nothing but a tattered mess. I’d been left with nothing but the scraps of ruined material and two freshly stitched wounds that ran between my shoulder blades and stopped in the middle of my spine. Earth was, in short, a shithole when I got exiled to the massive round ball of crap. But, as the years dragged on, it became everything to me: my sanctuary, my haven, somewhere I could be free to feel. Being free of the crushing weight of His rules was liberating, though being thrown out of Heaven wasn’t exactly my plan. I've never once regretted

my decision, however, because being a faux human suits me just fine. "Luna, I lost you again. You sure you don't want to talk about it?" Ms. Frenchie gently prods, likely knowing the answer already but not one to not offer a ear to listen. "I appreciate it, but I really am good. Got lost in my head, is all. Anyway, what's up with all the posters I'm seeing about a live band?" I chirp, deflecting none too subtly, pointing out that I have, in fact, noticed the orange and yellow posters boasting about a karaoke night and surprise band. I mean, they’re pretty hard not to notice given the fact that they’re bright orange and yellow. I’m talking highlighter colors. And those things are everywhere. I’ve only caught the word ‘band’ and Ms. Frenchie’s store name any time I’ve seen the flyers, so I’ve no idea what it’s about other than the obvious. Ms. Frenchie gives me a look as to say I’m not fooling anyone and studies me for a moment before telling me, “If there’s ever anything you want to talk about, I still have my hearing intact, no

matter how bad my eyesight is getting. You know I’ll listen, okay?” “I know. You’re the best.” I smile. “Anyway, enough about me. Tell me about this elusive band you’ve happened to snag.” The change of topic has the desired effect when her soft smile turns into a beaming grin and she starts explaining there's a new band in town that she booked last minute. She tells me it’s a guy rock band and that they’re, and I quote, “uber current” - cue cringe from me - and other things about the band that I wouldn’t normally be interested in but can’t help but take interest with how excited she is. I miss the name of the band, however, when her chatter becomes too fast to follow, so I sit back, rest my head on the back of my cushioned chair and watch her with a soft smile on my face, entranced by her wild hand gestures and the happiness that pours from each word that comes out of her mouth. Her giddiness is infectious, and I can’t help but smile along with her, even though I’ve lost

track of the conversation all together at this point. Just listening to her talk about something with such enthusiasm has always made me stop and listen, appreciating the emotions and feelings that are practically tangible around my Francis. I’m sure she has that effect on everyone, not just the Angel she befriended long ago, but it’s a treasure to watch her wrinkled face light up like it has. How could I ever choose anything over this?

Luna "Loony Toon, you want to take the last of these cookies home with you?" Ms. Frenchie calls from where she's tucked under the counter doing whatever it is store owners do. I personally think she just hides behind that giant slab of wood when it comes to closing time so customers can’t order any more coffee and overstay their welcome. It certainly wouldn’t surprise me, seeing as though when the door chimes with the sound of the last of the customers leaving, I hear a quiet but very distinct, “Yes!” from behind the counter. "Ms. Frenchie. I'm wounded. Do you really think that even needs to be a question? When have you ever had to ask if I want to take your heavenly cookies home?" I reply dramatically, placing my now finished book, back on the shelf from where I'd snagged it a few hours before. Another book

completed with only five minutes before closing time. Score. The hours have flown by and it’s nearing on evening already, a sunset proudly on display in the sky. I snatch my aubergine colored purse off the floor and hook it over my shoulder before making my way to the counter where Ms. Frenchie is still rustling and bustling. I make a conscious effort to make my footsteps light as I walk, and I reach the counter without making a single noise. "What are you even doing?" I ask loudly, breaking into the peace and quiet which in turn causes Ms. Frenchie to jump out of fright and knock her head with an audible thunk on the counter when she jumps. Oops. "Luna! What have I told you about doing that?!" she yells while rubbing the sore spot where her head connected with the wood, mussing up her dark grey hair in the process. "It's not like I planned it, you ninny! How was I supposed to know that would happen? I can’t tell the future, you know?" I do my very best to stop the laughter that threatens to pour out of me.

Her green-eyed glare is fierce when she straightens up from underneath the counter and looks over at me where I'm leaning my arms on the counter, hands clasped together, not really a picture of innocence at all when I lose the battle with my grin. "Because you do it every damned day you're here," she grinds through her pearly white dentures. I snicker before I can stop myself and am too slow to duck out of the way of the withered hand that comes soaring through the air and towards my exposed forehead and quite literally facepalms me. Quietness permeates the air before our laughter cuts through the silence like a hot knife through butter; Ms. Frenchie's cackling and wheezy inhales causing more laughter to erupt from me, and tears gathering in my eyes from the hilarity. "Get out of here, trouble," Ms. Frenchie laughs out, "and take those cookies with you before I feed them to Brutus." I gasp in faux dismay, fluttering my

eyelashes quickly. "You wouldn't dare give my cookies to that giant oaf you call a dog. The beast is fat enough no thanks to your excessive feeding. He could gain to lose a few pounds." That horse like dog is all muscle, and she knows it. He could eat a boat full of food, and simply won’t get fat. I’m pretty sure I’m the only one with a metabolism that could rival Brutus’, so I’m convinced he’s a mutant doggo, even though it’s probably just good genes. Ms. Frenchie grins in my direction and, very unlady-like, flips me her middle finger while calling out, “See you later, alligator.” I shake my head at her with another grin of my own and make my way to the door, calling, "In a while, crocodile," over my shoulder before letting myself out into cool spring air. My body involuntary shudders when a particularly cold breath of air tickles my spine, so I cross my arms over my chest and briskly walk to my car that I'd parked a block over. I reach my beautiful, sleek, black 1968 Dodge Charger in record time, jump in the driver's leather seat and

crank the heating to shake off the chill that slowly seeped into my bones as I walked. I take a quick look around at my surroundings as I buckle myself in and freeze. In the corner of my eye, I catch a sudden movement. I twist my head in the direction it came but catch nothing but the tail end of a black scruffy cloak scurrying behind its wearer into the alley that I am in no rush to make any movement towards. The sky has begun to turn gorgeous shades of blue, sunshine fading to darkness, causing the alley looking a lot more ominous than it had before. The sense of foreboding crashes heavily down on me when I see the tail end of tattered material that I know all the well as a cloak. And I’ve seen that cloak before. Instead of re-enacting every horror movie ever, because you can’t ever be too sure, I push my foot on the accelerator and high tail it back to my loft apartment. My heartbeat is thumping a little too fast for my liking as I drive home, breathing exercises dubbed a crock of shit when they do nothing for my panicked state. There’s only one

reason I would see that cloak and that must mean it’s that time where my life is about to become increasingly difficult... again. I make it back to my apartment in half the time it should have taken me thanks to my less than stellar driving. I reach for my purse, open the car door, and bolt to my building before slamming the door of my apartment building shut right after me, waiting until I hear the blissful sound of the lock clicking in place. I'm up the five flights of stairs, fuck you very much broken elevator, quicker than you can say Underworld and am rushing through my door and closing it before I have a second to think. I take a deep, calming breath the moment I'm safe surrounded by the comforting red and brown brick walls that is my home and all of my belongings. My reprieve is short lived when not even a second later there's a knock at my door. "Fuck sake," I grumble, turning to look through the peephole in my door. What stands on the other side is the bastard I knew I saw in the alley. I'd recognize that stupid cloak anywhere. I

see it every hundred years. Has it really been that long already? I don't answer the door. Instead, I choosing to rest my head on the dark mahogany wood that is the only barrier between me and him. Being a messenger of the asshole, Lucifer, he gives me the creeps, no matter how friendly he tries to make his visits, so the door shall remain closed. "Nevaeh, I know you're in there. I saw you practically flying up the stairs," comes a gravelly voice, the sound of stone grating against stone penetrates the door and causes me to wince. The use of the name He gave me, the one I haven’t used since my Fall, has my eyes narrowing and my temper rising. "There's no Nevaeh here, you fuck ugly troll. Go away," I call through the door. "I'm a Gargoyle, you shit. Not a troll. Now open the door or I’ll break it down myself," comes his aggravated response. Ugh. Why does this always happen to me? Oh, yeah. Because I’m the only damn Angel living on Earth to pester. Slowly and begrudgingly, I open

the door that separates me and the Gargoyle. I’m talking an actual stone Gargoyle. Stubby wings and everything. His face is naturally scrunched up and his head is far too small for his overgrown stone body that is covered in what would have been considered as peasant clothes. He’s not exactly a sight to behold and he makes the hairs on my arms rise with discomfort. At least I got one part of my insult right. I move backwards, enough for the monster to trail past the doorway and into my large open plan living room without brushing close to my body. He takes his time perusing my abode, checking out my top of the range kitchen, beautiful living room with dark brown leather sofas, a giant television with the latest game console and shelves stacked with a wide range of DVDs on either side. He looks at the one wall that's completely covered with books and then to the wall that harbors a beautiful large round window at the front of the building which looks out over the city. The original red and brown brick of the walls are on display on the wall that holds the window and television, whereas the

others have been plastered and painted a pale beige. It's nothing short of stunning, but the breathing statue is ruining it. "What can I do for you, Javos?" I grumble, making no effort to welcome him. He's really not welcome. He’s a Satan advocate, after all. His polar opposite twin, Brolos the Cherub, His advocate, is as welcome as the stone creature. Now that's one creature I'm really glad isn't here. If I thought Javos was fugly, he's got nothing on his brother. Contrary to popular belief, Cherubs aren't these cute little angelic babies wearing diapers and sporting adorable little white wings and round chubby cheeks. Oh no. Cherubs are essentially overgrown hunchback babies, coarse curly blonde hair for each of them, black beady eyes, small pert noses and a toothless mouth that makes understanding them hella difficult. It’s like He was completely wasted when creating those nasty looking things and thought, eh, fuck it. It’ll do, when he was done. I involuntary shudder at the remembrance of the Cherub I haven't seen in over a hundred years and bring my attention back to the Gargoyle I

haven't heard from in the same amount of time. I wish it were longer. "Well? I'm not getting any younger." I stifle a snigger at my own joke, guaranteed the Gargoyle won’t find me in the least bit funny. "I see your sense of humor still needs work," he gripes. Cue eye roll from me. I called it. "I'd say it's improved somewhat. Now what the fuck are you doing here?" I ask in all my blunt glory, before making my way to the kitchen for a bottle of wine that I know I’ll need after this visit. Javos follows not too far behind, his stone feet clunking heavily on my wooden flooring, and waits for me to reach the fridge where I've stored my cheap wine, pour into a glass, and situate myself at the long bar that separates the kitchen and living room. "I think you know why, Nev-" he starts but cuts himself off when I glare daggers at him sharp enough that he winces. My name isn’t Nevaeh anymore. That name was left amongst the clouds when He saw fit to throw me away when I

wouldn’t blindly follow Him anymore. It’s Luna Greyson, and Luna fucking Greyson only. "Please, do shine some light on the reasoning for gracing me with your presence," I retort sarcastically with a bitter smile. I know why he's here, and surely Pebble Penis already knows my response before he’s even said what he’s come here to say. "You need to choose a side. There's another war brewing and the longer we all wait for you to make up your mind, the worse it's going to get," he replies. Idiot. He really should know by now. For six hundred years they've been sending their messengers to convince me to pick a side. Every hundred years I'll get a visit from Javos, Bolos or two of the unpleasant creatures, one trying to push me towards Lucifer and his cronies and the other shoving me towards following His will. Fuck it all. "I'll tell you what I told you over a hundred years ago, and every hundred for the last the five hundred before that: fuck you and shove your sides where the sun doesn’t shine. I already made up my

mind, and no one liked my decision. That’s how I ended up here in the first place. But you know what? I don’t care. This was my choice. Earth, humanity and everything that comes with being human. I'm not picking anything else, so save it," I bite out, quickly reaching the end of my tether with all of this bullshit and downing the entire glass of wine without coming up for air. "You aren't human, Nevaeh.” I grind my teeth at the use of my real name, but he continues before I can berate him. “You're a god damned angel in the most literal way. You're pretending here. You need to pick a side and go home," he pleads. "I'm more human than Angel, am I not? I'm wingless, I have two gifts to my name because He took away my remaining three. I'm just a slightly evolved human, for all intents and purposes. As for going home? I am home. Have been since I got thrown out of Heaven. So why don't you do us both a favor and get lost?" I snap. He has no right forcing me to choose again, and I won’t. They already gave me the option choose, and here we

are. "You'll have to pick a side, sooner or later. You can't keep living somewhere you don't belong." What a mistake those poorly executed words were. Something he realizes when my eyes flash in anger from their normal grey and turn a silvery white so bright that he's forced to cover his own eyes with the giant stone paw he has for hands. My voice comes out sharp and ethereal, the hairs on my own arms rising at the sound, "I belong here, the only place I've been able to be myself without consequence. I won't get my wings ripped apart here because the only ones I have now are tattooed across the scars left on my back. I am home. Now get the fuck out." He stares at me for a little longer, realizing that he's getting nowhere. He shakes his head with a sigh and turns to leave. Before he steps out of the room, however, he murmurs something that has my anger stepping up a notch. "Make your mistakes, but you will choose a side. It may not be now, but it'll happen." He leaves and shuts the door behind him,

and before I can control my bubbling anger, I'm picking up the bottle of wine and throwing is across the room and into the door he just left out of. The bottle smashes and wine splatters everywhere, and I'm thanking my lucky stars that it was only white wine and not red.

Luna A week goes by without incident, no Gargoyles or Cherubs checking in, making conversation, trying for make me choose between Heaven and Hell. Just the normal, average week. I've been back and forth to Frenchie's all week, reading, drinking coffee and helping Ms. Frenchie get ready for the live band that I still don't know the name of. I really should ask her the name. They're due to play next week, and the woman wants everything perfect before the show. Who am I not to offer a helping hand? "Francis, where do you want this?" I call out, struggling with a large amp for an electric guitar, trying to step over tangled wires and avoid walking into chairs and tables whilst carrying the heaviest item she could have asked me to move. I may be and Angel, but I’m not the damn Hulk.

"If you're calling me Francis now, I'll keep calling you Loony Toon," she quips before pointing to the furthest corner opposite where my chair lounges. "You call me Loony Toon anyway, so what difference does it make?" I roll my eyes while shuffling my way to the area she pointed to set the amp down, stretching out my back when I stand straight again. “And anyway, I feel a change in the air, so Francis it will be until I decide otherwise.” I brush my hands over my grey, coldshouldered cropped shirt and tight high waisted denim jeans, removing the dust that gathered from the equipment that hasn't seen the light of day in far too long. I roll my long sleeves back down from where they'd been tucked in the crook of my elbows to keep from getting dirty. Once my hands are clean of dust, I make my way to Francis who is balancing very unsteadily on a crooked ladder, attempting to place tea lights on the highest bookshelves she had in the store. "Francis, dammit, why didn't you ask me to

do that?" I scold, reaching to grip the shaky ladder before the old bat goes tumbling and breaks a hip. "I'm old, not incompetent. I can hang some lights, no trouble," she rebukes, like the ladder she’s standing on isn’t as ancient as me and looks like it’ll crumble to dust at any given moment. "Fine. But when you break your old lady hip, I reserve all the rights to say 'I told you so', you hear?" I grumble. If it were possible for me to suffer with such illnesses, this woman would no doubt give me a heart attack. "Old lady, my ass. I can still hang things and make sure I don't break a hip, old or otherwise. Now get out of the way, you nuisance, so I can get down safely," she further berates me. I snort at her weak attempt at an insult. She calls me a nuisance. That's a fine joke right there. "I'm the nuisance helping your wrinkled ass with this shit. Show some appreciation or I'll steal your giant dog." I'm grinning cheekily, but she's still stuck on the ladder to see, so her response is like music to my ears. "You touch my Brutus and I'll slap you silly,

girl. I’m old, but I’ll do it. Just because you've bothered me for forty long damn years, does not mean I won't beat you with a broom if you steal my puppy," she calls down from her perch on the top rung of the ladder. I break out in fits of laughter at her calling the beast a puppy and once I've caught my breath, I chuckle out, "okay, first things first, that dog is NOT a puppy. That beast is an eight-year-old Great Dane that looks like he eats whole pigs for breakfast. He’s like an overgrown Scooby-Doo. Puppy, be damned. Second, what the hell are you talking about, 'bothered you'? You stalked me into a friendship, you weirdo. I distinctly remember, time and time again, telling you I didn't want to join your book club, and you harassed me until I caved. I've been stuck with you since." She's laughing under hear breath when she replies, "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Move out of my way, you." I shimmy to the side with a grin and let go of the ladder once the crazy lady is on safe, solid ground, making a mental note to replace the

contraption that should have been thrown away decades ago, and walk over to the window where the rest of the equipment lies. "We haven't got much left to do, sweetie. I'll get some cookies ready for you to take home with you to show my appreciation." Ms. Frenchie winks at me before turning to the back door that will lead her to her apartment above the store. Cookies as payment? She knows me too well. I clamber towards the rest of the junk Ms. Frenchie wants me to sort through, stepping over more various wires and items that look like they've seen better days. I accidentally kick a microphone halfway across the room and I’m positive I see rust chip off and fall to the floor. I shake my head at the lousy condition Ms. Frenchie has kept everything in and make my way to the second amp that’s laying on the floor. Before I bend over to pick the second amp up, my eyes catch a figure standing across the street. I pay no attention for a moment, moving the heavy amp to where I placed its twin, but when I rise again, I spot the figure still standing where I

saw him or her last through the stream of cars. Too many cars are driving past, so making out who the person is becomes a difficult task, but I know for certain it's a he when a bus shows me enough of the figure and a flash of white blonde hair, before getting in the way again, and he is looking right at me. My heart stills in my chest before picking up the pace again, a beat faster than normal. More cars drive past, obstructing my view, so I take matters into my own hands and walk outside. When I get outside, however, the steady stream of cars has lessened but the man has disappeared. It's like he’d never even been there. I know I saw him, though. I'm not going crazy. Right? Can Angels go crazy? Certainly something to Google when I get home. I wait patiently for another car to speed by before stepping out onto the road, quickly crossing to the other side where I could have sworn the man stood. I check the store I'm stood in front of but come up empty. I take another quick look around but when I still find nothing to indicate that I did

see what I think I did, I cross back over the road. I stand outside for a moment longer but decide to brush off the random encounter and make my way back into the store. I close the door quickly once I'm inside, not wanting to let out too much of the glorious heat in the store, but the second the door latches closed, I'm pricked with the sensation of being watched. I can feel a gaze burning in the back of my head, the distinct feeling that there's a set of eyes planted right on me. A shiver runs over my entire body at the feeling. Slowly, I twist on my Converse covered heels and look around, pressing my face closer to the glass of the window. I get close enough that my nose is practically hugging the glass, leaving a smudge on the once pristine surface. No matter which direction I look, I still see nothing but vehicles driving by and the same stores that I see regularly. I take one last long look around but come up empty, yet the feeling that someone is watching my every move just won’t dissipate. The sensation crawls uncomfortably up my spine and settles at the

nape of my neck, goosebumps breaking out all over my body. Trying to ignore the feeling, I go about helping Ms. Frenchie for the remainder of the day. I help with setting up the makeshift stage in the corner of the room, propping up lights and everything else a band could possibly need. I place banners where they're most visible, lights where they will illuminate the band, and every other little thing Ms. Frenchie can think of. The feeling never fades, however, and my anxiety cranks up a level every hour I feel I’m being watched, making time feel as though it’s going at a snail's pace. When everything is in place and it's time for me to head on home, I hesitate at the door, all too aware that whoever has been watching me hasn’t shifted its attention to someone or something other than me. "Luna? Everything okay?" Ms. Frenchie questions from within the store. "Yep! I'm good. I'll see you tomorrow. In a while, crocodile," I call back before closing the door fully, a paper bag full of cookies tucked under

my arm. I take a quick look around, once again seeing nothing and no one out of the ordinary and decide to risk it, thanking all that exists in the world that parked just a few stores down. I briskly walk towards my car, keys in my hand at the ready, and the moment I reach my baby, I'm shoving myself inside and locking the doors the moment my feet are firmly planted inside the vehicle. My heartbeat's picking up pace right alongside my growing anxiety, my nerves are completely fried, but I shove it all at the back of my mind in favor of driving safely and getting home in one piece. The entire drive home feels like it lasts hours instead of the mere fifteen minutes it normally takes. My spine still tingles with the watchful eyes of my onlooker, but every single time I subtly try to check my surroundings, glancing in all of my mirrors, I spot nothing unusual or anything that gives whomever is watching me away. When I reach my apartment, I choose to park in the apartment parking garage instead of outside the building. I stay seated once I find my

spot and turn off the car. I remain in my chair, breathing deeply, trying to shake the feeling of eyes watching every move I make. After a few breathing exercises - that I'm sure don't work but still hope that they miraculously will - I make my way out of the car, through the parking garage, and to the door to the bottom floor. I climb every step carefully, trudging up all five floors worth of stairs, aware of my surroundings. I’m on edge, primed for anything that might jump out at me. My efforts are wasted when I reach my apartment door and nothing out of the ordinary happens. I let myself in and lock the door once I'm safely inside. A sense of unease tickles my mind when the moment I shut the door, the feeling disappears. The crawling sensation up my spine vanishes and my heartbeat slows back down to the normal speed that I'm accustomed to. My entire body relaxes, pent up muscles releasing the tension I hadn’t realized had gathered. With my first steady breath in hours, I shake off the feeling and drop my black purse on the side

table by the door and plonk my keys in the bowl that sits next to it. I make my way to the kitchen and find my stash of gin. This is a gin kind of night. No wine will soothe my remaining frayed nerves. I find a shot glass and take my goods to the sofa, placing the bottle and tiny glass on my wooden coffee table. I snatch the remote off the table and switch the giant television on, flicking through my movie options until I settle on one of my favorites; The Breakfast Club. With my movie playing, I take a shot or two of my beverage of choice and instantly feel my body relax into the giant cushions that cover my sofa. I sink into it, and what’s left of the tension I've felt coiled in my body seeps out of me gradually, every shot of alcohol loosening my limbs. After being strung tighter than a bowstring, exhaustion hits me like a ten-ton Mack truck. My eyelids begin to droop, the movie lulling me to a state of unconsciousness. Before I fully succumb to my desire to pass the fuck out, a niggling thought breaks through to the forefront of my mind. The memory of Javos'

words ring in my ears seconds before my need to sleep wins. You will choose a side. It may not be now, but it'll happen.

Luna I groan the second I wake up, placing my hand over my forehead in dismay for the wretched hangover I've been cursed with. I'm immortal, but gin has the same effect on any Angel, and damn did I get wasted last night. I peel my eyelids open, blinking quickly to try and get a read on my little alarm clock on my bedside table. Seeing the time has me groaning again. It's six in the morning, and my body clock is sabotaging me. Bastard. But, wait... how did I get to bed? I ignore my own question because my tired mind isn’t in any shape to be thinking back to how I got my ass in bed. Knowing I won't be getting back to sleep now that I've woken up, I drag my legs out of my king size princess bed, shifting the white canopy curtain to the side. I swing my legs over the side of the high bed and stand. I'm a little unsteady

at first, but I manage to shuffle out the door and towards my black metal spiral staircase that'll land me not too far from my kitchen. I make my way down the stairs, gripping the railing tightly, sure I'll tumble down every step if let go. I finally reach the bottom and detour to the bathroom for a much-needed respite for my bladder before heading to the kitchen. I go about my business, wash my hands and slowly drag my feet to the kitchen where my blessed caffeine awaits me for consumption. My head is thumping to a record I wished with all I have would quit playing, and my stomach feels like it'll upchuck everything I consumed the night before. All of that is forgotten, however, when I spy Ms. Frenchie's homemade cookies sitting on my counter and the tempting scent of brewing coffee fills my nostrils. I don’t know why food and coffee stave off my nausea, but I’ll be damned again if I’m not thankful for it. I pour myself a large cup of java before snatching the plate of cookies off the counter and forcing my exhausted body to the living room, flop

down onto the sofa and throw my legs up on the coffee table. I'm thankful for landing next to the remotes so I don't have to move to retrieve them and go about switching on the television and picking a movie that won't make my head pound harder. Realizing I've recorded movies with nothing but up-tempo music and singing, I decide on The Greatest Showman and knock the volume down to one that I can cope with. I sit through the entire movie, quietly singing along with Zac Efron about rewriting stars until I'm rejuvenated and awake enough to get a start on my day. I get myself ready, squeezing into a pair of tight black, high waisted skinny jeans and pair it with a black long-sleeved cropped shirt with the shoulders cut out, flashing a small bit of my tattoo covered skin. I plonk a black, wide-brimmed hat on my head and throw a chic tattered dark purple kimono on before I shove my feet into my signature black Converse, fluff my hair a little so the loose waves look more beach waves and not I-justcrawled-out-of-bed waves, and snatch my black purse from where it had been abandoned the night

before. I'm in my car by the time the clock hits half eight. Knowing Frenchie's isn't open for another half an hour, I head to Starbucks for a latté seeing as though I’m in dire need of another coffee already. I’m pretty certain I should be hooked up to a caffeine drip or something. I'm walking toward the door of the café when a flash of color catches my eye through the window adjacent to the exit. This seems to be happening a little too much for my liking as of late. My eyes dart to where I saw the color, catching another flash around a corner before it disappears. I grip my coffee securely in my hand and follow the unknown source, clueless as to what propels my feet in to motion, but helpless to stop myself. I push my way past other coffee drinking folk, weaving in between the chairs and tables that stand in the way of me and the door. I break free of the unusually crowded café for such an early time in the morning, burst out of the glass door, and just about catch another glimpse of blue before it disappears again. I break out into a run, juggling my

paper cup carefully, chasing after whatever the hell it is, every turn I make only just catching a glimpse of which way it goes. I follow the mysterious color for what seems like an hour, twisting and turning, running around buildings, no idea where this thing is leading me, but it feels like a compulsion to follow it, whatever it may be. It's as though a thin thread has attached itself to me and the unknown and I'm a puppet following its puppeteer. Not a feeling I'm all too fond of, if I'm being honest here. After running in what feels like endless loop circles, I spot the flash of color one last time before I lose track of it altogether. I'm breathing a little heavier from my exertion at trying to keep up with the unnaturally fast thing. A light sheen of sweat coats my skin. I stop chasing after what now seems to be nothing, inhaling steadily to try and control my breathing. As I'm doing so, I take inventory of my surroundings, glancing around where I’ve found myself and come up short. I'm standing in the middle of a cemetery and didn't even pay attention

to my surroundings enough to notice. How is that possible? I have no idea. Clearly my attention had been solely focused on my mission to unwittingly follow a moving color. But here I am, surrounded my headstones and old statues for those wealthy enough that could afford them before they passed. It seems I'm stood amongst the oldest of the graves. Many of the headstones are made of stone, covered in moss and the plots are overgrown. I step closer to some of the headstones, trying to make out the names carved into the stone, but the majority of them are so old that the stone has eroded and the names are lost. With nothing better to do now that I've found myself lost and surrounded by death, I wander through the graveyard, checking each of the stones to see if there are any names left to remember. I walk in circles, coming to the very front of the graveyard where the newest graves lie, marble headstones replacing the battered stone of the older ones. I double back to the older part of the cemetery, something inside me calling to that particular spot on the endless expanse of the land.

I must have been wandering for a little while until a statue I never noticed before pulls me up short. The statue I'm looking at is carved from stone, looks as old as the other slabs of stone that are littered around the unkempt grass and sets off chills across my body. The statue is of an Angel who holds an uncanny resemblance to a face I look at every morning. That statue looks just like me. Confusion slams into me from every direction. What the hell is a statue of me doing in a cemetery? One so ancient that there's missing names on almost all of the stones back here. How did it get here? Who carved it? How did I not know about this? I'm at a total loss and my brain is starting to hurt from my questions it’s shooting at rapid fire. I walk around the giant figure, the one with wings, I think bitterly as I circle the detailed masterpiece. She looks just like me, from the length of her hair, to the full lips and sharp cheekbones. She looks just like I did when I was still perched

beside Him in Heaven. The fuck? I check every part of the stone double of me, even going as far to climb the block of stone it sits on to get a closer look at the face. Although incredibly old, you can definitely tell it's my face. I climb back down, brushing my clothes of the debris that's got caught in the material, removing a random piece of moss that got caught in the rips of my jeans, and huff out a confused breath. I check to see if there's a plaque on the statue, but there isn’t, so I step back to gaze at the thing from further back. I'm at a loss. A total and utter loss. "This doesn't make a damn bit of sense. Someone clue me the fuck in, yeah?" I quietly call out, tilting my head back until it's facing the grey, cloudy sky above. "What do you need help cluing in to?" asks a deep masculine voice from way too close behind me. With an undignified shriek, I twirl to face the man with the voice like honey and melted chocolate.

Don’t ask, it’s what his voice reminds me of. I drop my purse in the process of ungracefully spinning around at a speed no person should spin, especially with a hangover that feels like it crawled from the pits of Hell, and almost find my ass buried in the grass with the ferocity of my movements. That’s all a distant worry, however, when my eyes connect with a set of the deepest blue eyes I've ever seen, which is saying a lot considering I've seen a lot of eyes in my time. I subtly shake my head, ridding myself of my inner rambling, and focus on the human who thought it wise to sneak up on an unsuspecting woman standing in a graveyard who’s quite obviously in the midst of a crisis. The man in front of me is, to mildly put it, gorgeous; hot as sin, bad boy look locked down. His stylish I-just-rolled-out-of-bed hair is black as midnight, tints of a familiar shade of dark blue flashing in the strands when the light hits it just right. He's packing a shit ton of muscle, not enough that he looks like a full-time body builder, but

enough that he could certainly throw me over his shoulder with no effort at all. Dark jeans cover thick muscled thighs, a tight black shirt hugs his defined torso and a black leather jacket sits snug over his arms and shoulders. A five o'clock shadow blesses his handsome features, his lower lip slightly fuller than his upper. A crooked nose and a strong jaw, and I'm a puddle in the grass right now. He has a scar running through his left eyebrow and I can see a smattering of tattoos peeking under his jacket collar. Honestly, he looks like he'd kick a puppy if it yapped at him wrong or pummel a man's face in for sitting in his seat at a bar, but it doesn’t hide that he's sexy as all get out. That is until I remember he's a creep who's chilling in a cemetery and came over to strike up conversation with me. The real me... not the stone me. "Uh, who the fuck are you and why are you hanging out with the dead?" I snap. I’m not one who likes being snuck up on, as I’m sure we’ve all gathered, so I’m a little snarkier than I intended to be.

Then again, what right do I have to ask someone why they’re hanging out somewhere so grim? I mean, it’s a free cemetery. People can chill here if they want to without being questioned by foul mouthed, mannerless weirdos. Or he could be visiting a dearly departed. That would make more sense. "Name's Asher Ryan," he responds gruffly, ignoring my shitty attitude, and holds his hand out for me to shake. At least he's polite. He stuns me with his next sentence, however. "And you followed me here."

Luna "Say that again," I splutter my request, narrowing my eyes at the handsome creep. "You followed me. I tried for, I think it was, a solid hour to get rid of you, and it was only until I reached here that you lost me because I hid behind the mausoleum over there,” he rumbles, his voice doing something weird to my insides. He jerks his thumb in the direction of an ancient looking mausoleum further to the back of the cemetery. How did I miss that thing? Wait. I followed him? Ooooh! With a resounding facepalm, I come to the realization that the flashes of blue that I'd been following was in fact this man’s head of hair, the tinges of blue that's only visible when the light hits it just right. That’s why the color seemed so familiar

to me. But that does actually mean... oh Hell’s chariots. I really was following him. I'm the creeper. My, how the tables have turned. "I didn't realize it was your unusual hair color I was following, sorry." I cringe inwardly. "I just saw bursts of blue and felt like I should follow wherever it was going." I'm envisioning myself head-butting the statue repeatedly at how totally absurd that sounds. I felt compelled to follow you. Really, Luna? That’s the best you got? I'm resigned to know that there's no taking it back, however lame, so I'll just have to own it, even if it does make me sound like I have a few screws knocked loose. The man, Asher, just stares at me like I've grown a second head, but his hand is still stretched out, so with a muttered “oh, my bad.” I quickly place mine in his and shake. The second my skin touches his large calloused hand, I’m stunned when his eyes quickly flash a beautifully unnatural sapphire color before dying down to his more subdued shade of blue. What the hell was that?

I'm quick to check my reactions, making sure I don't outwardly display that something is amiss. He's not quick enough to mask his reaction, however, though I'm at a loss as to why he'd react at all. His eyes widen ever so slightly but are back to their normal size a split second later with a look of confirmation that I’m not privy to understanding. How strange. I shake it off when my hand starts getting clammy within his giant paw, so I slip it out of his grasp and don't think before I wipe my it on my jeans. Once I'm done, I glance back up at the seriously good-looking guy who's now trying to restrain a smirk. "Wiping the cooties off your hand?" he jokes with a raised eyebrow, his scar standing out a little more with the action. I'm not in on his joke, so I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion, something I'm a lot of today, and disgust, and reply, "You have cooties?" I'm about to wipe my hand a little more vigorously when he snorts and rolls his eyes before telling me, "I'm kidding. You wiped your hand after

shaking mine." "Ohhh! Oh, no. My hand was sweating, and it was nasty. Nobody wants a sweaty hand." I shrug before bending down to retrieve my purse that still lays abandoned in the grass. He nods like that's the most reasonable explanation and my respect for the man notches up a few pegs at his understanding for non-sweat filled palms. It’s silent for a little while before he strikes up another conversation, a conversation that has my eyes widening a fraction before I can stop them. “That statue looks an awful lot like you.” I’m sure it’s a harmless topic to him, but considering I’m still freaked out over the thing looking like a double image of me, I’m not keen on continuing the conversation so I curtly respond, “Sure does. Weird, right? Coincidences and shit.” He’s staring at me now, like he’s trying to work me out, as though he was expecting something else when he first spoke to me, maybe? I don’t know, but it’ll take a lot longer than a brief meeting at a cemetery to work out even the

smallest bit of everything that is me, and I’m in no mood to be spending the rest of my day hanging out where the dead are buried, letting some guy put the pieces of a complicated puzzle that is my life together. I’m about to turn away when he stops me with another attempt to talk. “You sure do cuss a lot.” I stare at him for a few moments before bluntly responding, my face as deadpan, “Sure as shit, I do.” After a few minutes of silence, I decide it really is time for me to leave and I blurt, "Well, Asher Ryan, this has been a grand ol’ time, but I've got coffee to drink and books to read so...in a while, crocodile." I give him a random salute with a quick smile and then I'm twisting around and marching my way out of the cemetery. “Whoa, wait! You didn’t even give me your name!” his deep, warm voice calls after me. I turn around so I’m walking backwards before calling back, “Sure as shit, I didn’t!” and then I’m twisting back around and leaving him

standing there staring after me. I start to navigate my way back to Frenchie's, not once looking back. Fine! I looked back twice. *** "Francis! Francis, I need the biggest coffee you can give me and all the cookies. It's one of those days!" I yell across the room as soon as I make it to my favorite place on Earth and the door closes. I receive a few distasteful looks from the customers already enjoying their hot beverages and engaging in conversation, but I pay them no mind and walk straight to the counter. Ms. Frenchie is already busy making my drink when I reach the counter. She's such a sweetheart. "Where've you been, Loony Toon? It's half past twelve. You're normally in your chair by five past nine, a drink in one hand and a book in another." She's right. I'm normally always here at no later than five past nine, no exceptions. Except

today just wasn't meant to be my day, regardless of the hottie I essentially stalked earlier. I take a deep cleansing breath before spilling my tale of how today sucks balls. "So, I woke up hella early, like always, and the shop wasn't open yet, so I watched a movie and then went to Starbucks for a coffee. I saw something at the corner of my eye and stalked it. Turns out it was a dude that had been trying to shake me when he realized I was following him. I accidentally stalked a guy, Francis. I ended up in a cemetery in fuck-knows-whereville, had a weird interaction with my stalkee and then had to try and navigate my way home. Only I didn't have my phone for GPS, so I was literally lost. Took me three wrong buses and an hour walk to get back to my apartment to pick up my stupid phone. In between waiting for buses, I also spilled my fresh coffee over my shirt, but thankfully it's black, so no stains." I take a quick breath once I'm done catching Ms. Frenchie up on today’s antics. "What happened to the spare key I gave you for the shop?" she asks, perplexed. The key? Oh, for Hell’s sake. She gave me a key last month

because I kept phoning her to let me in early when I got bored at home. Typical. "Ugh. I forgot you gave me that," I groan and thump my head on the counter. "I've had a morning from Hell all for nothing." The old lady pats my head, seeming a little too patronizing for my state of mind right now, but is quickly forgiven when she slides a plate of cookies under my nose when I raise it to glare at her. "You're an angel, thank you," I offer sweetly, shooting her a grateful grin. "Go sit at your chair. I'll bring your coffee over." She smiles softly. I blow her a kiss before I shimmy my way through the tables to reach my corner. I drop my purse on the floor near my chair and place the cookies on the table, and then head to the plethora of books Ms. Frenchie has displayed on the entire wall. Would you believe she has more in storage? She's as much of a book nerd as I. Our friendship really was meant to be. It was written in the stars or some shit.

I pick up a book called Reviving Kendall one I've read too many times to count but can never get enough of - and hug it to my chest before shuffling to my corner and plonking my ass down into my heavenly chair. The rest of my day goes by without any other mishaps. It’s spent slurping down as much coffee as my slim body can handle and reading my favorite books, happy that Ms. Frenchie keeps them on her shelves. The sky is already dark by the time closing time comes around, so I pack up my things, help Ms. Frenchie out with shutting shop and walk to my car once everything is cleared away. As I'm walking the short distance to my car, I get a niggling thought at the back of my mind about the guy I'd met earlier in the day. I can't place my finger on it, but something felt eerily familiar. I ponder on it as I'm walking to my car, as I'm driving home, and mull over it some more as I'm walking the steps to my apartment. What is it that felt familiar? I run over the events in my head, not picking up on anything out of the ordinary...other

than the flash of color in his eyes when his hand shook mine. That was weird. I mean, my eyes flash...My thoughts trail off as sudden realization hits me harder than an ongoing train. My eyes are the only ones that flash. Angel eyes are the only eyes that flash. Fuck me running. The bastard’s an Angel.

Asher I'm still left a little reeling after the encounter I had with a certain sassy, purple haired woman when I stride into the motel room Elijah and I are renting for however long we're here in this shithole. There’re a few things I didn't expect when we got here, one of those things being: I did not expect to find the Fallen so fast. Talk about chance encounter. I was actually on my way to scout out her normal haunts, get a feel for her routine, when low and behold, the little spitfire stalks the shit out of me. I didn't realize she was who we were here for until she got a little too close when I was trying to shake her off and I felt a little tug in my chest, indicating that one of my own were near. Given that I knew where Elijah was, that only left the woman, our purple headed Fallen Angel. It was then that I started walking us in

circles to check if she'd follow behind me the entire time. Luck must have been on my side when she did exactly that. She lost me amongst the graveyard when I snuck around the worn-down mausoleum and watched her stunning face morph into a look of confusion. Something that got worse the second she saw the statue He had made of her and left to rot in the cemetery. Yep, even He has his moments. Think of it as Him having a little tantrum, creating something that looked like his prized possession and the ditched it and left it to wither away. He felt like his star Angel had died when she chose to Fall, and so He only saw fit to put a replica of her in a cemetery. Dramatic, I know. But that's God for you. The second thing I wasn't prepared for? The way she fucking looked. Holy shit. The Angel we've been sent to sway to Hell's corner looks like that's exactly where she belongs, and I mean that in the best way possible. The woman is slim but has curves in all the right places, something easy to display in those skin-tight black

jeans and half of a shirt she was wearing. She had a body that was made for nothing but sin. And don't think I missed the little sneak peak of the tattoos covering her shoulders through the cut outs of her shirt and the right side of her waist where her skin was on display between where her shirt and jeans. Though she looked like she was on the damned track to Hell, she kind of looked like she was on the righteous path to Heaven, too. Her face was sharp, but her smile was soft. Her mouth drew up in a wicked smirk just before she left me standing in a cemetery like a dunce, but her eyes give away the warmth and compassion she has tucked inside her lean frame. A weird combination if I've ever seen one, but damn did she make it look fucking good. I scrub my hands over my face roughly, a second before Eli struts out of the bathroom in nothing but low hanging jeans. "What's up with you, bro?" he questions with a raised eyebrow when he catches me still standing by the door like a moron. I scrub a little harder, trying to get my

thoughts off the damn Angel, before turning to face the man I call a brother. Although not by blood, he's my brother in every way that counts. We stood by each other when the Reckoning took place, both choosing to side with Lucifer, even though he's a total dick. We felt like it was the better option, having our freedom to do as we please, no rules or commandments. Do I regret it? Sometimes. Only when the Dick himself decides to call upon one of us to do his dirty work. Asshole. "Found the Angel," comes my gruff response as I make my way to the crappy single bed and sit down. His eyebrows almost hit his red tinged hairline with my declaration, and it almost makes me smile. Almost. "That was fast. How did you manage that?" he asks in awe, scratching his five o'clock shadow around his chin and jaw. "Complete accident. Thought she was just a rando following me. Ran around in circles for just shy of an hour and ditched her at the cemetery some blocks over. Watched her for a little bit and thought she was harmless enough, so I went and

introduced myself. Shook the girl’s hand and her eyes light up like a damn Christmas tree...literally. It's her, man," I replay, only relaying the important facts he actually needs to know. Call me a selfish brute, but I want to keep her to myself if just for a little while. The second my brothers’ eyes land on her, he'll be all over her like a god damned rash. "Well, shit. We might be home sooner than we thought." He chuckles with his playful grin that has me almost smiling again. You've probably guessed it by now, but I'm not a smiler. I'm not one to do the whole grinning playful shit that Eli has perfected. I'm a brooding bastard through and through. Smirking at the Fallen Angel, whose name I still don't know, was an anomaly I'm sure won't happen again. The closest I've come to smiling was when Eli bought the stupid demon hound puppy that torched his entire wardrobe one day when Eli didn't give him more food. Now that was certainly worthy of a smile. "Uh, yeah, maybe." I cough, nodding my head non-committedly. I’m sure, if it were any other chick we were here for, we’d be home a few

hours after meeting her. But, from this woman's back bone and fire...Let’s just say I have a feeling we’ll have our work cut out for us. “Okaaay,” he drags out, looking at me warily. I don’t look back at him, instead focusing on pulling my phone out of my jacket pocket and Googling local hangouts in the area. I can feel Eli’s eyes burning a hole into my skull, but I don’t acknowledge it. “Spill it. What are you hiding?” he finally blurts after a few minutes of silence, grabbing a rickety chair from under the grimy desk and dragging it over to sit directly in front of me. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I respond, still avoiding his face. He stares at me a little longer, leaning his elbows on his knees. He only moves from the position to shift himself forward an inch on the chair, moving closer and closer until his nose is almost touching mine. Have I mentioned he can irritate the shit out of anyone for answers? “Fuck! Fine. We might not be going home so soon,” I start. “The woman, Angel, isn’t exactly

a delicate flower, okay? Damn near bit my head off for standing in the same cemetery as she was. It’s going to be one hell of a challenge to convince this one to come back to Hell with us.” His mouth stretches into a wide grin, never one to back down for a challenge. It’s like the fucker strives on that shit. "Okay, so what's the plan?" Eli asks, excitement lacing his words. He's always been playful and easy going. It's a wonder we're as close as we are, given the fact that we're polar opposites. Where I'm a moody bastard on the best of days, Eli will always find something to smile about, whether it be small or big. While I'd rather sit silently in a room, Eli always finds a way to strike up conversation. If you were to compare us, he'd be pure light and I'd be suffocating darkness. It works for us, though. For Millenia, standing side by side has formed the closest brotherly bond I've ever witnessed. I roll my eyes before responding. "The plan is, we need to scout the place. Check the area out before your gig at that little coffee shop next week.

We'll need to keep an eye on the woman, too. Get a feel for her routine, get to know the places she hangs out at, that sort of thing. Normal recon for the week. We'll approach her the night of the gig," I plan out for him, already one step ahead of him now that I've met the Angel. A strange sense of excitement forms in my chest at the thought of seeing her again. It's not a feeling I understand at all given the fact that we've had one brief encounter, one where she had zero filter, shocked me with her knockout looks and wiped her hand after shaking mine. She's got me thoroughly intrigued by a twenty-minute meeting, and I have no idea how she did it. *** We’ve spent the entire week trailing our Angel, who I managed to find out calls herself Luna, watching her every move. We watch her every move and have her routine memorized; we know every single store the frequents and found out that the coffee shop Elijah has his little gig at is

the same store we found our Angel visiting more than her own apartment. His gig that so happens to be tonight. “I need her car, bro. Like, really bad. Have you seen that beauty?” Eli drools, staring at the seriously badass looking Dodge that I’ve eyed at the corner of my eye more times than I can count. I give him a swift smack of my palm upside his head before my reprimand. “Can you focus for two minutes, please?” We’ve been standing in the ally just to the side of the store, waiting for the sun to settle before heading inside to the coffee shop. Eli insisted on going inside first, but I have the upper hand seeing as though I’ve met her already, something I’d been lowkey smug about. The plan is to go in, have a conversation, and get to know more about her. The more we know about our Angel, the more we have to use to sway her to our side of the spectrum. Something Eli was all too eager to get on with. Eli had taken one look at the woman and laughed. “Bro, she already looks like she’ll fit right

in at home”. “You’re telling me,” I gruffly reply. He’d bitten his fist at watching her curvy ass sway temptingly as she walked every day, drooled at her choices of outfits that mainly consisted of short flowing dresses or the tightest damn jeans I’ve ever seen, and stared wantonly at her tattooed flesh that we quickly came to find she is not shy in flashing. In short, he was fucked, and I knew he would be the second his eyes landed on her. I’m man enough to admit I’m not faring any different, but unlike my brother, I can hide it a lot better. But now, I have a weird sense of nervousness creeping into my stomach at the prospect of having another unusual conversation with the unfiltered woman. Unfortunately for Elijah, however, he drew the short straw and has to wait in the cold while I go inside and strike up a conversation with our Angel until I text him the all clear to come inside with the band. A band full of humans he only met an hour after landing on Earth. I don’t even know how he got the gig or where he met the guys, but

I’m not complaining, seeing as though they were unwittingly helping us out. “Okay, you ready?” I ask Eli, checking the time on my phone to see that it’s now a quarter past seven. Our Angel should already be inside with a book in hand like she is most days. Time to move. “Yep. Just text me and I’ll call the other guys to meet me here,” he responds, nodding his head and reaching for his phone so he has it at the ready. With a quick final nod, I push away from the wall I’d been leaning on and turn the corner. I make my way into the shop, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and something deliciously baked permitting the air, and spot the purple headed spitfire instantly. She’s sitting in the corner, relaxed in an armchair and her nose practically enveloped by the book. Her long, lithe legs are crossed, and her purple dress has risen up to flash more tattoo covered thigh than I would have expected to see. Fucking hell. I shake off the sudden pang of arousal and make my way towards her, pushing my way

through the tables littered around the room. Guess it’s showtime.

Luna The week has flown by. I’ve gone about my normal routine, mainly hanging out with Ms. Frenchie, or ‘bugging the shit out of Ms. Frenchie’ as she so kindly put it. All week I’ve felt like someone is watching me, the same feeling I had before last week when I was setting up for the band, but I’ve opted to ignore it and decided that Angels can, in fact, go crazy. I'm at Frenchie’s at five to seven in the evening, five minutes early per the time requested of me. I'm in my chair with a book in hand by the time seven comes around. I spot Ms. Frenchie behind the counter and blow her a kiss that she pretends to catch and puts it in her cable knit cardigan. I softly laugh before focusing on my book, opting to get lost in a world of magic and intrigue.

I'm jolted out of my little book bubble when a stranger drops down in the chair directly opposite my own. My book is only a few inches away from my face, so I don't see the bubble popper, but I can feel my intruder’s presence. Plus, their leg brushed mine before the stranger sat down. A low clearing of someone's throat sounds from in front of my book, where the stranger sits, but I pay it no mind. My book is calling to me, and the band should be playing shortly. I need to get as much of my book fix in as I can before I must abandon my cause and help Ms. Frenchie for the night. Another throat clearing makes that an impossibility, however. With an over exaggerated huff, I pull my book down away from my face and my jaw goes slack. What in the unholy Hell is he doing here? Asher Ryan sits comfortably in his chair, his legs resting apart casually with his fingers intertwined on his stomach. He's in a pair of dark Levi's, a black torso hugging shirt, but sans the leather jacket he was sporting when we first met. His jacketless state gives me an eyeful of beautiful

black and grey tattoos that line his left arm and crawl up under his shirt. He's a prime piece of perfection. Scary perfection, but I'm not one to judge. I mean, he's the only guy to actually sit this close to me in here. Well, the only Angel to sit by me, too, as a matter of fact. How the hell is another Angel roaming around Earth? Everyone chose their sides, and I'm pretty sure there's an unwritten no takebacksies policy in place for everyone but me, seeing as though everyone insists I didn’t actually make a choice. So how is it possible that, sat directly in front of me, is another one of my kind? I don’t realize I’ve been staring while my inner rambling has taken on a mind of its own, but the angel says nothing about it. The little twitch in his lips tells me my gawking is amusing to him, though. It's enough to snap me out of my hottie haze, and my sass comes back full force. "The fuck are you doing here?" I'm blessed with a smirk, one that he seems a little perplexed by, before I get a reply. "It's a coffee shop. People are allowed in here."

Smartass. "No shit, Sherlock. But what are you doing in my coffee shop?" Manners, wherefore art thou missing? I'm crass and blunt, and cuss like nobody's business, but I'm normally politer than this. I clearly don't like being taken by surprise, or I have a stick wedged up my damn ass. Considering this man has shocked me twice already, I'm going with the former. He doesn't seem fazed at all by my attitude; he only raises his scarred eyebrow. "So, your name is Frenchie?" That gets an undignified snort out of me and I reluctantly smile at the handsome man... Angel... Mangel? His eyes flicker to my mouth and my smile slowly fades. He's still staring, so I give him a taste of his own medicine in the form of an obnoxious cough that gets the attention of the customers mulling around not too far from us as well as his. He looks away awkwardly, an interesting look on a man who has as an imposing aura. I can't help but chuckle at the massive guy looking like I

just caught him with his hands down his pants. I decide to take pity on him and give him an explanation. "It's not my store. It belongs to Ms. Frenchie, my best friend, but I'm here so much that I've just classed it as my coffee shop. You know, like claiming the place because I practically live here half the time." I give him a shrug and lean over to pick up my coffee and take a long pull, sighing at the heavenly goodness. I place my mug back down before he speaks again. "Which one is Ms. Frenchie?" his rumbling voice asks, causing goosebumps to travel across my skin. I ignore it and throw a thumb towards the counter where Ms. Frenchie is serving a cute blonde with a skirt two sizes too small. “The old lady serving the chick with her ass hanging out from under her too short skirt? That’s Ms. Frenchie. Damn sweetheart of a woman. I’m glad she can’t see that girl’s skirt, though. There would be an hour-long lecture about modesty and all sorts of shit.” I snort again and roll my eyes before facing Asher again, only to find him already staring at me.

"What? Is there something on my face? I swear, if I have chocolate on my face, I'm going to stuff Francis in the dumpster. She told me I got it all." I start rubbing my face, trying to get all the chocolate I thought I'd caught earlier after indulging in cookies. My frantic scrubbing slows to a stop when Asher smiles at me. I feel like time has come to a standstill and it's just us in the room. His smile...well, it's nothing short of stunning. Full white teeth gleam at me under the soft glow of the lights above, and my heart almost stops. That man should smile more. It changes his entire face. If he wasn't gorgeous before, that smile would have had my panties disintegrating faster than I could say hot damn. It seems we're exchanging throat clearings and coughs more than conversation when the telltale noise comes from him and it snaps me out of my staring competition with his mouth. "There's nothing on your face," he rumbles with that curious look he had on him the day at the cemetery. The same intense look, like he wants to

know the ins and outs of all that is me. I begin to fidget awkwardly under his scrutinizing gaze, my heartbeat hiccupping every now and then. "Then what were you staring at?" I push through my sudden nerves, my eyebrows drawing down in confusion. There's a short beat of silence before he faces me and with such honesty that I'm left a little breathless, "Just a beautiful woman." I give him a soft smile, and I can feel my cheeks warm. That's an unusual sensation seeing as though no one has ever said anything to me to cause me to blush before. Saying that, no one has called me beautiful before either, other than Ms. Frenchie. A little flutter starts in my belly, and I'm left questioning if this is the whole 'butterflies' feeling humans talk about a lot. First time for everything, huh? We settle into a comfortable silence after his sweet compliment, but my head once again starts going into overdrive. I’m brought back to his Angel status, and now that I’m thinking on it again, I can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t adding

up. I can't seem to piece together how another Angel is on Earth. Does he still have his wings? Surely not, if he Fell. But...did he Fall? Did he, in fact, take back his decision and came to Earth to stay? Or... Did someone send him? I mean, it’s not infeasible considering every hundred years I receive visits from two of the ugliest assholes known to Heaven and Hell. If a Gargoyle and Cherub can come to Earth to try to convince me of the inconvincible, then why can’t Angels? Are both sides desperate enough to get their own to sway my decision? Looking at the gorgeous specimen in front of me again, sitting in all of his sexy as sin glory, my mind decides that yes. Yes, they are. Javos said there was a war brewing, so why wouldn’t He or Lucifer send their Angels to convince me? Desperate measures and all that, right? Just like that, my mind decides to latch on to what’s happening before me. It's like a puzzle clicking into place in my brain, the pieces fitting snugly together as my head finally catches up to

what’s going on here. It’s a shitty puzzle, at that. I come to the realization pretty slowly, but it comes to me like a beacon of light in the darkness, shining brighter as the puzzle pieces connect. The entire picture forms in my head, and, sadly for me, it doesn’t make me feel any less of an idiot when the last piece falls in place. It's that time again where I start getting visits from Lucifer and His minions, insisting I 'make up my mind' about my living arrangements, as if I were to choose someplace else. I've already had the Gargoyle knocking at my door, so what's to say they won't up the ante? What if they’ve decided to up the game and send stronger messengers or those more convincing to a female Angel? Who's to say I'm not looking at one of Satan or God's lackeys? Fuck it all to hell in a handbasket.

Luna I'm being played right now. He knows who I am. He knows I'm the only Angel that Fell. If his eyes sparked when my skin touched his when we met, then surely mine did too. That would explain the confirming look on his face after he shook my hand. Well, now I feel fucking stupid. I pick up my book again, deciding to hide my inferno like anger behind the pages of magic and imagination. My eyes narrow dangerously as my rage spikes. I can feel my eyes changing, and sure enough, I see a faint silver glow on the pages in front of me coming from the direction of my irises. I snap my eyelids shut and breathe deeply, in and out in rhythmic motions, trying to leash my anger at being made to feel like a real and total

idiot. How did I not see that coming? It’s glaringly obvious now that I’ve sussed it out that they'd resort to drastic measures. I mean, there's a damn war brewing, so of course they would send Angels after me as well as the fugly Gargoyle and fuglier Cherub. Stupid, stupid, stupid. It takes longer than I care to admit, but once I have my anger under control and feel my eyes shift back to their usual grey, I lower my book. I’m a picture of faux calm by the time my book is in my lap, a plan formulating in my brain. The second the book is in my lap, Asher’s eyes are on me. I give him a coy smile before I place my book down and mumble, "Be right back." I stand and walk over to where Ms. Frenchie stands, looking a little frazzled. "Everything okay? You're wearing a hole in your cardigan," I point out gently, before carefully snatching her hand in mine to stop her from fidgeting. She takes a deep breath before she responds. "The band's late, Luna. They should have been here ten minutes ago, but they haven't shown.

Tonight is going to be a bust, I just know it." Little does she know she just handed me the perfect opportunity to execute my plan, pretty much on a silver platter. "I'll do karaoke until they arrive. No biggie, Francis. I've got you covered," I chirp over sweetly and wink at her before I turn and make my way through the throngs of people I hadn't even realized had turned up since I arrived. Am I seriously that oblivious? The room is packed, every chair filled, people mulling around by the shelves of books. Damn good turnout. Even better audience for the little show I'm going to perform. After shoving my way through the gaps the crowd of people have left, I make it to the makeshift stage and step up onto the platform. I head towards the microphone and give it a little tap to check that it's switched on and working fine. The high-pitched static noise confirms as much. With most of the customers attention focused on me and the stage now, I speak confidently into the microphone. "Guys, our band is running a little late, but they're on their way, I promise. For now, how about a little karaoke? I've

got a song I've been itching to sing, and we don't get many music nights here. How about it?" I'm enthusiastic enough that everyone seems to perk up, smiles lighting faces, vigorous nods from others. A few even offer me an applause, bless them. I head over to the amp and connect it to my phone to the aux cord and pick my song from my most played soundtrack. I'm just putting my phone down when the music starts, a beautifully haunting melody of Chris Isaak's Wicked Game begins to play, a cover version of the song flowing clearly through the amp. I step up towards the microphone slowly, in tune with the piano that plays at the very beginning of the song. With all the audience's eyes now firmly planted on me, I open my mouth and sing. My hips sway enticingly, drawing attention to the short purple chiffon dress I decided to wear today. As I'm singing, my eyes lock onto my target while Asher's annoyingly stunning blue eyes stare intently at me. It's then I unleash one of the two gifts He left me with. All of us Angels were given five gifts off

Him when we were created. Three of mine were stripped right alongside my wings when I was banished from Heaven but two remain. You see, I wasn't just given the ability to sing with the voice of an Angel, irony at its finest. No, I was given the gift to infuse my singing with emotions and sensations, a gift I'm all too grateful for being allowed to keep right about now. I push my power into my voice, infusing lust and want into the lyrics and melody and direct the full force of it to Asher. My power, only visible to me, glides around the audience. Some sneaks out towards the others in the room, caressing a cheek tenderly or wrapping around a waist seductively. The onlookers visibly become a little flustered, moving slowly to the lyrics my voice pours into the microphone, cheeks becoming flushed from the soft touch of lust. I focus back on Asher when the chorus to the song comes up, pushing more of my power into the dramatic vocals, sending a wave of desire out through my voice, making a beeline towards the angel whose cheeks are tinted a very alluring shade

of pink. Our eyes lock the second the first word leaves my mouth, my eyelids slowly lower until they're half-mast with the effects of my power. I see perfectly the moment he realizes I've worked out he's an Angel, and with a naughty little grin, I watch my power take effect. A pretty magnificent thing to witness, an Angel built like a Mack truck, menacing yet incredibly sexy, blushing furiously and trying his best to cover the hard on I got an eyeful of before his large hands hid the little show I’d been enjoying a little too much for my liking. He lifts his unoccupied hand to pull at his collar, trying to remove the stifling cloak of hunger and want I've firmly wrapped around him but to no avail. He starts looking around the room, as though searching for someone. Who? No idea, but I don't let it derail my mission to watch this man crumble. Revenge is oh so sweet. I continue to sing, hitting every note perfectly, getting closer and closer to the finale. Asher's looking a little worse for wear, fidgeting, shuffling his feet. He's grown a new shade of red and a light sheen of sweat coats his skin. He’s still

looking for the unknown source but seems to be coming up empty. He must know what's coming when the last verse of the song starts and his eyes snap right back to me, the Angel who is wearing a very menacing grin that’s pointed in his direction. "D-don't you d-dare," he stutters out, his voice sounding a little higher pitched than I've grown accustomed to in the short amount of time we've known each other. He strains out another, “don’t you fucking dare,” and with a smirk, I continue and watch as his hips buck forward, his impending orgasm just a few song lines away. He hunches over, leaning his hands on the table in front of him. I can tell from the rapid heaves of his chest that his breathing has picked up. I nudge a little more power into my next line. He rests his head on the table, likely seeking comfort in the cool furniture. I can see beads of sweat dripping down the sides of his face. I’m reveling in watching his back heave with his rapid breaths. I continue with my song, a little more seduction added to the mix. His left hand goes to his groin, where he

shamelessly palms his very rigid length under his tight fitted jeans, while he wraps his right hand around his neck while his head still lies on the table. Dignity has flown far and fast out of the window, and I couldn't be anymore smug. I sing another line, feeling the addictive thread of seduction pulling at Asher, coaxing out his release. His head snaps up just before I sing the final line of the song, and I'm a first-class voyeur who blatantly watches Asher come apart with a last lick of my power. And what a glorious fucking sight it is to see. With a flirtatious wink, I sing the final line of my song. "…With you." I can hear the guttural groan that emerges from the depths of his chest all the way from the stage and if my panties weren't already soaked, they sure would be now. His head falls back in ecstasy and I can do nothing but stare at the man in all of his glory, falling apart in the middle of a crowd of people. I feel like I've taken revenge on

myself when I can't tear my eyes away from him, my skin feeling flushed and an ache forming between my legs, growing stronger the more I watch Asher. My lips part on a gasp when Asher’s head snaps back down and the hungriest gaze I’ve ever witnessed locks onto mine. My eyes are suddenly pulled away by someone who stands by the door, clapping enthusiastically, breaking me out of the lust induced trance I’d fallen into just with one look from the Angel across the room. Another drop dead gorgeous man stands with his mouth open in surprise, watching me in complete and utter awe, his beautiful dark brown eyes alight with amazement. "That...was fucking magnificent."

Elijah I can't help but stare at the beauty standing on the stage in nothing short of wonder. She's even more stunning up close. No fucking wonder my brother was so damn smug about being the one to come inside and strike up conversation. He thought he hid it well, but I know him like the back of my hand. Sneaky bastard. Can’t say I blame him, though. That woman has the ability to make men fall to their knees. Quite literally, too, it seems. I had it in my mind that this woman was going to look exactly like He would want her to look like; flawless skin, the lightest colored hair, delicate features, small and fragile. Oh, how I've never been so happy to be wrong in my assumptions. The woman who stands on the stage in front of me is nothing short of spectacular. Covered in tattoos, a face that would surely make

weaker men beg for attention and a body most women would die for. She's a damn knockout. Color me pleasantly surprised. Definitely not what I was expecting. Her chest rises and falls with her swift breathing, which draws my attention to her ample breasts that are only just covered with the flowing fabric that protects her modesty. She's covered in the lightest sheen of sweat and when it becomes too alluring staring at her body, I shift my gaze to her eyes that leave me a little breathless when they connect with mine. Beautiful light grey irises framed by thick black lashes stare back at me, surprise coating her features, no doubt at me interrupting her staring match with her unknown opponent with my highly deserved round of applause. This Angel can sing. To the right of me, a noise catches my attention, and I swing my head in its direction. My eyebrows almost hit my hairline when my mind catches up to what I'm seeing. A young couple no older than twenty are unabashedly dry humping while leaning on the shop’s counter, while the

couple beside them are playing a very messy game of tonsil tennis. It's only then that I take a proper look around the room only to find everyone else in nefarious positions and situations. This is a coffee shop...right? My eyebrows furrow in bewilderment, and I swing my eyes back to the Angel who still stands on the stage. I catch her looking around the room with a peculiar look of confused fascination, a bemused smile on her face. When she spots a group of people getting frisky in the middle of the room, she outright laughs, slapping her hand over her mouth and holding her stomach as though it gives her great pain to laugh at the scenario I stumbled upon. "Hey, Flower. Don't suppose you know what happened here, do you?" I ask timidly, not sure approaching an Angel laughing at the beginning of an orgy is the best thing for me. A futile thought, really, when the woman doubles over in hysterics, a beautiful laugh pouring out of her between sharp intakes of air. Her laugh becomes incredibly infectious, especially when it

turns into one of those wheeze laughs that leave you soundless and clapping like a seal. I'm bumped by several people who are rapidly getting their groove on, so I save myself by jumping on to the small stage and stand next to the cackling woman. She soon calms down after the tears of hilarity stop running down her face, wiping the streaks away from her face and taking a calming breath or two. She then turns to me with a brilliant, beaming smile that renders me speechless for the first time ever. "It’s Luna, not Flower. And you must be the band, if the whole punk rock look is anything to go by." She chuckles, holding her hand out for me to accept and shake. I regret it the second I do, because the second my bare skin touches her smooth palm, her eyes flash a blinding silver. I have no doubts that mine have flashed in the same way, a ruby red color illuminating from my brown eyes, when her eyes widen, all humor vanishing from her face and she snatches her small hand back, clutching it to her chest.

"Ah fuck," she mumbles in a daze, staring at me as though I'm wearing a bright pink tutu and a yellow boob tube shirt as opposed to my black jeans and leather jacket. I'm not given the chance to introduce myself when my brother comes barging through the throngs of rowdy humans. He shoves his way through until he's stood by the stage, glaring up at the Angel, Luna, with equal parts desire and fury. "Get rid of it," he grits out between clenched teeth. He's visibly tense, his muscles coiled tight and a vein in his neck throbbing in tandem with his fast-paced heartbeat. I look over at Luna where she's smirking triumphantly in Asher’s direction. I'm looking between the two, neither one saying a word, though Asher does become a little tenser as the time goes by. Luna breaks the staring competition when the goads Asher, using an overly innocent voice that I don't believe for one second. "Get rid of what, Mr. Ryan? Whatever could it be that you’re referring to?" She flutters her eyelashes and swings her body around in short half circles with her hands

clasped in front of her, her dress swishing with the motion. I watch with amusement, a grin on my face, finding far too much joy in watching this little spitfire mess with my brother. Normally he scares the shit out of everyone, no one daring to step a foot near him. Not this chick, it seems. "You know what," Asher groans before continuing, "get rid of it, or there'll be a God damned orgy in the middle of your best friends coffee shop." Luna howls with laughter before saying, "Are you sure that's the reason? Or is it because you're about ten seconds away from busting another nut from the residue power still wrapped oh so snugly around you, and the humans fueling whatever lingers?" I'm still confused, so I turn to Luna and ask, "You caused this? And what do you mean, 'bust another nut'?" "Wanna tell him, or shall I?" she provokes my brother further with a Cheshire like grin on her face, perfectly straight, white teeth flashing under the lights of the store.

"Get. Rid. Of. It." "But everyone's having so much fun! Look, even Mr. Graham is having an incredibly enjoyable experience, if the young lady in his lap is anything to go by," she faux pouts, but not before I witness the hilarious cringe and quick shudder of disgust she tries to hide at the elderly gentleman with a woman who looks old enough to be his daughter sitting crudely in his lap. "Luna, you did this?" I ask again, needing answers to all of this crazy. She turns to face me proudly. “This?” she motions to the crowd. “Yeah. That was me. Neat, huh? I decided a little karaoke was in order after you and your band were late, and Asher there decided I was too stupid to realize that he was an Angel just like little ol' me," she explains by not really explaining anything at all; instead, she just confuses the ever-loving shit out of me some more. And then she's looking at me again, a dangerous looking smile on her face before she tells me, "And if those ruby red eyes of yours are anything to go by, I think I just hit the jackpot with finding myself

looking at another one." I catch Asher groan again before I can work out what to tell her, anything to salvage the plan that has been thoroughly shot to shit but come up empty. Instead, I face my brother, who's turning a particular shade of red I've never seen on him before. "Bro? You okay?" I ask carefully. His head snaps up and his gaze latches onto Luna like she's the last steak at a buffet and he's mighty hungry. She instantly notices, and whispers, "Ohholyfuck," so fast that it becomes one word. In a matter of seconds, Luna's eyes are flashing that beaming silver color, and at the corner of my eye, I can see a whisper of movement trickling towards where she's stood with her hands by her side, palms facing the crowd. I watch as the barely there substance glides from the humans and is absorbed by Luna. Before it all disappears, however, she leaves enough that I can only see flashes of it wrapped around Asher. Her eyes snap open before she smirks at Asher. I quickly figure out it’s one of the

powers He blessed her with, and internally facepalm for not realizing it sooner. That has to have something to do with her singing, if I’m adding things up right and her karaoke comment is anything to go by. "Have fun with the boner from Hell, unless you're coming like a teenager before I even get my ass out of the door," she throws at Asher. With that, she's nothing but a blur, spinning around and jumping off the stage in a flash of tattoos and purple. She's pushing quickly through the horde of people, nudging the confused patrons out of the way in her rush for the door. I go to check on my brother, only to find him chasing after her like he's either going to throttle her when he gets his hands on her or crash her against the wall and have his way with her. I catch Luna calling out, "Keep my purse safe, Francis! I'm a woman on the run, but I'll be back! In a while..." and spot a woman who looks to be in her sixties, who’s popped up out of nowhere, wiping tears from her eyes while she heaves for air after laughing so hard.

Luna’s voice trails off as she barrels through the door and takes off in a sprint down the pavement. I watch as her gorgeous legs push her inhumanly fast, propelling her further and further away from Asher, who is now outside leaning his back on the door while hunched over, his hands resting on his knees. I notice his entire body is shaking and twitching before it dies down and he drops his head in his hands and shakes his head. I can do nothing but watch in amused fascination as one Angel flees the scene of an almost orgy that she caused and my brother, in fact, busting a nut outside of a coffee shop, that she also caused. And this is the woman we’ve been sent to convince to pick the side of Satan himself. What the Hell have we got ourselves into?

Luna "Run, run, run, run," I chant breathlessly to myself as I'm sprinting like I'm taking part in a marathon and shooting for gold. I take a quick glance behind me to check if I'm still being chased and heave out a breath before slowing down to a light jog when I realize no one is behind me. Well, no one is around at all. The street is empty and there’s not a moving vehicle in sight. I'm not as stupid as sometimes displayed, however. I'm not going to stop running just because I can't see the super-hot and super furious Angel that was close to catching up with me before another blessed orgasm rendered his efforts futile. We Angels are fast, so I'm not risking it. I decide, since I'm pretty much the equivalent of a fugitive right now, I may as well go do something productive while I wait for the

Angel’s I ditched at Frenchie's to abandon post and leave my usual haunt. What better way than to find someplace I can read? That’s productive, right? I hurry my way to the nearest library and thank my lucky stars when there’s one right around the corner of the street I’m still jogging down. I'm not hiding, though. I'm just... laying low. I reach my destination and don't hesitate to rush up the old cracked steps that leads to the worn-down looking building. I push the heavy door open and slip inside, listening to the groans of the door as it shuts soundly behind me. "Hello?" I whisper-shout, not wanting to raise my voice any higher in a building so quiet that you could quite literally hear a pin drop. I look around for any signs of life, and see none, not even behind the front desk where there should be at least one human doing all the mundane things there's to do at a front desk of a decrepit library. I walk up to the dark wooden desk anyway and lean my elbows on the surprisingly smooth surface. I glance around the area, not much to be seen in the entrance, but I spot a number of

bookcases off to the left side of the room and an old looking couch to the right. I'm tapping my black lacquered nails rhythmically on the desk before giving up my wait for someone to offer me assistance or just appear in general. I push myself away from where I'd been leaning, and fate takes me to the left of the library. I freeze a moment to take in the room, surprised that the room looks nothing like I'd imagined it would have from the outside. It is what I'd compare to the Tardis, small on the outside but big on the inside. There are cases upon cases of books in every size and color lined throughout, some facing different directions to the others instead of standing in uniform. It’s like controlled chaos, but it weirdly works. There are stairs to the right as you step into the massive room that lead to the upper level where I’m sure sit more books. I take a quick look around the downstairs before realizing there's nothing that pulls at my attention, so I take a quick trip up the stairs. There's a line of bookcases that are overflowing with paperbacks, at the edge of what would be a balcony effect floor, that hide the

plethora of computers that sit unused amongst the towers of literature. I wonder why they'd need so many? Unable to find anything that piques my interest amongst the science books and computers, I head back down the well-kept stairs and out of the room. I find myself back at the entrance where there is still no employee to be found, so I wander to the right of the building where the room is equally as large as the one on the left. What sits inside this room is pretty much a glorified living room that was designed to sit large quantities of bodies. The back wall is covered in nothing but books. I'm talking an entire wall of books. It has one of those neat moving step ladders that's attached to the wooden frame of the giant book case and rolls on the floor. You know the ones. The one like in Beauty and the Beast where Belle dramatically swings her arm out while gliding across the floor, describing her favorite book? Yeah, that nifty contraption. I stuff down the urge to re-enact the scene and focus on the rest of my surroundings. The

entire room is filled to the brim with comfy looking couches, beanbags and single seated armchairs. They're all scattered around the room, in various colors and patterns, some surrounding coffee tables or cute little tables. There's a lit grand fireplace in the middle of the wall opposite the entrance to the room which has my eyebrow raising. If there's already a fire burning, then surely there's someone in the building, right? I take another look around, but still no sign of anyone, so I shuffle my way towards the wall of books and set myself in search of something that will keep me occupied for a little while. I lose the fight with my restraint and find myself gliding on the ladder with the excuse that I needed to search the books further up in case anyone just so happened to catch me in the act and asked what I was doing. After my fun, I find three books that call to me before I make my way to the pretty coral colored armchair with a tattered cream cushion. I sit my ass down and sink into the second comfiest chair that has ever existed. I get myself comfy

before opening the first book to the beginning and fall into a world of vampires and romance. *** "Have you seen a woman with dark purple hair, falls just past her waist. Arms full of tattoos," an all too familiar voice asks from somewhere around me, which is weird considering I don’t even know where I am. Where the fuck am I? I open my eyes and find myself staring at a mismatched group of furniture and I quickly realize I'm still at the Tardis library. I must have dozed off in the middle of reading my book. I can't have realized how tired I'd been after my getaway sprint and the adrenaline wearing off. Adrenaline that seems to kick back in at the sound of Asher listing a description that paints me perfectly. I listen out for a reply from somewhere that could be behind my chair. I don't have to wait long when a man’s smooth, gentle voice responds. "Can't say I have. I'm sorry. We don't get many wanderers here. This library has gone mainly

unused for quite some time." That voice has my eyes slowly drifting closed again, so calming and soft. It's like a warm blanket has been wrapped around my shoulders. I fight the urge to fall asleep again and am rewarded with a frustrated growl from the source of my low lying. "If I give you my number, can you let me know if you see her? It's important," Asher's deep, rumbling voice gravels out, setting a wave of goosebumps bristling across my arms. I nestle down further into my chair and hope with all of my being that Asher and the unknown person don't come searching the room, anyway. The stranger politely responds with, "I'll be sure to do that," and then it's quite save for Asher’s thundering footsteps. I listen until the sounds of his walking fades and listen some more when nothing but silence stretches on. "You can come out now," the strangers velvet like voice sounds from directly behind my now claimed chair. I roll my head until I'm facing the ceiling but a jaw droppingly handsome man's

face obscures my view of the antique beams in the high ceiling. The man has the softest looking hair, the color of caramel that has my hand itching to run through the mussed locks. He's cut the sides somewhat short, but the mop of hair at the top has been grown out. It sits in a calculated mess and styled perfectly so it's out of his eyes. Hazel eyes framed with long sets of lashes peer kindly at me through black thick framed glasses, and a full set of lips sit nicely on his face. The handsome stranger gives me a soft smile when all I do is stare, and I shake myself out of yet another hottie haze. I move so I'm sitting upright and the stranger walks around my chair to sit on the coffee table in front of me. His white shirt wraps around him snugly, showing off his athletic build and well-defined muscles through the shirt. A pair of black jeans hug the lower half of his body, and a smart looking pair of shoes complete the ensemble of the seriously good-looking guy I can’t stop staring at. I shake it off when I witness a blush creep up his neck.

"You told that man you hadn't seen me," I croak and immediately clear my throat that must have dried without use. The stranger gives me another kind smile, his face lighting up with it, and I find myself relaxing completely around him. An unusual effect from someone I’ve never met before. "I'm assuming you know him somehow, and that man looked like he'd rip my head off and throw it in the near dumpster, so I assumed you were hiding from him when he listed your description. I found you sleeping about an hour ago, so I let you rest. Looked like you needed the sleep," he explains shyly, the cute tint of pink now fully coating his cheeks. "I was lying low, yeah. I might have pissed him off immensely earlier on in the day," I respond like it's an everyday thing, a normal occurrence that I go around aggravating buff men that could easily snap my damn neck with just a flick of a finger. It's like the hottie mirrors my thought when his concerned reply reaches my ear drums, "I really hope you don't make that a habit."

I chuckle at the serious expression he wears, and tell him honestly, "No, today just happened to be a weird day for me. It's a one off. So...do I get the name of the man who saved me from likely being carted off by the caveman?" "Oh! Yeah, sorry. Noah. My name's Noah Samuels. I'm the librarian. I work here," he rambles. He's so damn cute that I can't help but smile at his bumbling efforts. "Luna Greyson. Thank you for helping me, Noah," I respond, my gratitude evident in my words. "I best head home, though. If the guy that stopped by looking for me is here, that means he's not around the coffee shop I escaped. Now's a good a time as any to make a run for it." He gives me a nervous chuckle in response, probably not sure if I'm joking or not. The less he knows, the better, in this case. I make to move off the chair, but I stumble when my left foot catches my right and I fall into Noah, who was quick to stand and catch me before my head collides with the coffee table. My weird day seems to be nowhere near

being over when Noah's gentle hands touch the bare skin of my arms and I find myself watching his eyes light up the color of citrine, a stunning yellow that rivals the sun. He lets go of my arms quickly when he no doubt witnesses my eyes flash their shade of silver and I can see his wide-eyed expression when the brightness dims and his hazel color returns. Why is this happening to me? I’m finding myself suddenly surrounded by one Angel after the other and have no idea which of their leaders are sending them. My guard immediately goes up, especially after my encounter with the two Angels I met earlier, and I take a step back, only to bump into the chair. Noah reaches out to steady me again, his left-hand making contact with my waist. Neither of us react, both of us staring intently at the other. The spell is broken when Noah whispers the only thing that turns my blood to ice, my entire body freezing the moment I hear it because the only people to ever utter the name is Javos and Brolos, and before them, it was only spoken in Heaven by Him.

"Nevaeh..."

Noah She suddenly makes to turn and no doubt leave, but my hand that is still resting gently on her waist tightens a fraction, halting her movement. She doesn’t move to turn to face me fully again, just freezes where she stopped. "Nevaeh, wait-" I catch her eyes flashing a bright silver before she can contain it, a brief glimpse of anger pushing its way into her expressive gaze. There’s no need to ask what it is that made her temper flare when she opens her mouth and speaks through gritted teeth. "It's Luna. Not Nevaeh. I haven't gone by that name since He banished me," she snarls, tugging her body, trying to shake off my hold on her. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I only know of you as Neveah," I explain, before pulling my free hand

up and making an X gesture across where my heart lay in my chest. "I vow to only call you Luna unless given other instructions by yourself." She watches wide eyed as the X is visibly drawn in bright gold hues across my chest before fading through my shirt and into my skin. A faint light from where the vow sits etched into my skin is faintly visible underneath the thin white material, the color dimmed but there. I pay it no mind, however, when Luna speaks. "I forgot we could do that," she whispers in awe. Her eyes linger on my chest for a few more seconds before she shifts here gaze until she's staring at me unblinking. "Why? Why did you do that?" She asks perplexed, her eyes narrowing slightly with suspicion. "I'm not here to make you uncomfortable, so if using your given name does as much, then I want to rectify the situation. I'm not going to hurt you Luna, I swear it," I reply, honesty pouring into every syllable. I hold her gaze. Her grey eyes watch me wearily before she comes to the conclusion I'm

telling the truth. Her shoulders sink and her entire body relaxes, tension seeping out of her body like air out of a balloon. She sighs deeply before rolling her neck to unravel the knots that must have gathered as she slept awkwardly in the chair. I hadn't realized she'd been strung as tight as a violin, or else I'd have confessed and sworn sooner that I intended no harm to her. "You said you only know me as Neveah. How? I'd have thought I'd be long forgotten by now," she asks, a wary guard falling over her face as though she needs to protect herself from me. "You're the most known Angel in existence. Everyone knows who you are," I reply gently, feeling like I should likely tread carefully with my words. She pauses while that sinks in, before her hand connects with her forehead. "Fucking A. Isn’t that marvelous. Just absolutely goddamn marvelous." She takes a look around the room before deciding to ungracefully throw herself back into the chair she just left. She shifts and shimmies until

she's comfortable before changing the conversation. "So... what brings you to Earth, Noah Samuels?" With a scratch to my eyebrow, I tell her honestly, "Uh, I don't actually know. I've been here just over a week with no instructions or anything. I guess I'm playing a waiting game. I should find out soon enough, I should think." Luna nods her head like she understands, but her eyes tell me she knows something I don't. It's like she already knows why I'm here but is testing the waters. It's peculiar, to say the least. "So, you just got plucked from whichever side you came from and landed on Earth with no clue as to why you're here?" There’s a hint of suspicion tinging her words as she watches me carefully, trying to play is off as casual conversation. "I was notified that I was needed here, but I wasn't given enough time to acquire the reasoning. I'm afraid I'm as clueless as you for the time being," I answer, skimming over her comment about which side I serve. Luna tenses in her seat for a brief moment,

and I cock my head to the left slightly. She knows more than she's letting on, that much is becoming more and more obvious. But what could it be? Does she know why I'm here? I open my mouth to question her in return, but I'm too slow when she shoots out of her chair and wanders languidly to the wall of books at the far end of the room. Her hips sway with the movement, and my eyes are drawn to her pert behind as she walks. I must have zoned out as she made her way to the books, because I suddenly hear a clearing of a throat and an amused, "Noah, did you hear me?" I shake my head and can feel the full body blush trailing up my body, racing up my neck and into my face. Great, I couldn't have been looking at something else? She surely thinks I'm a pervert now that she's caught me thoroughly eyeing her ass. Embarrassed that I got caught checking her out, I cough and stutter, "I-I'm sorry, what did you- you say?" She bites her lip to cover the laugh she's poorly hiding, her eyes shining with mirth. I almost

get distracted by her row of straight, white teeth sinking in to her plump bottom lip until she asks the question I'd missed before. "How did you end up at the library of all places?" I take a look around at the grand library, beautiful on the inside, drab and unsightly on the outside, and smile a small smile. "I actually live in the apartment above. I've no idea how I got there and the library has been empty since I've been here, so I assumed the apartment was mine for my time here and I suppose I just claimed the library as an extension. I've grown rather fond of it." "You like to read?" she asks, her eager expression lighting up like the stars in the night sky. My breath hitches before I cough into my hand to cover the hiccup. "Uh, yeah. Love it, actually. It's my favorite thing to do. I'm not really a people person," I respond bashfully. I can feel my cheeks grow warm again, feeling out of sorts around the beautiful Angel who's given me more sweet smiles than I've received in all of my long life. She has a strange

effect on me, one I'm not familiar with. I feel compelled to protect her, look out for her, like I did when that burly stranger came into my normally empty library asking about her. I don't know what made me do it, but I lied and told him I'd never seen Luna, when I'd actually caught her sleeping peacefully, her face smoothed out and content, making her already beautiful face even more so. "Me, too. I'm always reading." She grins in my direction and there goes my breath again. I'm intrigued, thoroughly so, by the Angel who fell so long ago. Her hard-outer shell hides a gentle soul, if her soft smiles in my direction are anything to go by. Her tattoos and crass mouth a disguise for softness and vulnerability. I'm finding myself unusually drawn to her, and I can't for the life of me place my finger on why. "Well, I really should be going. I don't need the caveman finding me, so now is a good of a time as any to leave," she tells me, twisting her body so she stands directly in front of me instead of facing the plethora of books behind her. I feel a sudden surge of panic and realize

that I don't want her to leave yet. I mean, that's absurd. I've only met her and know nothing about her, but my suddenly accelerated heartbeat and clammy palms don't seem to believe in logic when the prospect of the Angel leaving and never seeing her again settles quickly in my brain. Before I can think better of it, I blurt, "You're always welcome here should you find yourself hiding from anymore scary looking men." She laughs heartily before responding, "I'll be back regardless of any scary men. I'm pretty much in love with this building. I think I found my second favorite place on Earth." She gives me another toothy grin and makes her way to leave again. I don't stop her this time, letting her strut away from the book wall and towards the entrance where the front door sits. I twist to follow behind her out of the room, focusing on not looking down to where her hips are no doubt swishing as she walks. I do not need to get caught twice. Just as she reaches her hand out for the obnoxious door handle on the front door, I stumble

over my question, tentatively asking what I've wondered since the giant man came barging into the library asking for Luna, "I, uh…can I just- why were you hiding from that guy before?" "I wasn't hiding", she's quick to point out. "I was… laying low. And I'm not sure you want the scoop on that particular story." With a wink that paints my cheeks pink again, she's pulling the door open and walking out of the building before I can further question her, leaving me utterly intrigued, more so than before. I stop the door from closing fully and step outside to watch her walk towards the cracked steps that lead to the pavement. As she's leaving, however, another body is walking up the steps towards the front door. A man with white blonde hair and sharp features strides up the steps and only briefly pauses when Luna passes by his side with a polite smile. I can see her body stiffen a fraction when she properly looks at the man as she's passing, something akin to recognition flashing in her grey eyes, but she shakes it off quickly and resumes her walking, albeit a little faster than before. She

hurries down the steps and calls out, "In a while, crocodile," before looking back, waving in my direction, and speeding off back to wherever she came from. The newcomer reaches the top of the steps and stops before me, holding his hand out and asks, "I'm assuming you're Noah? Noah Samuels?" I nod my head in confirmation and reach my hand out to shake his own. When my hand connects with his, his eyes flash a bright peridot before fading to a light green. He nods his head before letting go of my hand, no doubt acknowledging my eyes doing the same, flashing their bright gold. "Can I ask who you might be?" I query, tucking my hands into the pockets of my black jeans. "Devon Crowe," he answers swiftly. He then walks around me and into the building, leaving me with nothing but his name and no idea as to who he is and what he's doing here. I find myself following him into the library and, as soon as the heavy door shuts, I push further,

"What can I do for you, Mr. Crowe?" He stops at the entry desk and places a large duffle bag I hadn't noticed onto the surface before turning to face me and answer my question. "I'm here to give you a mission, assuming you have no idea why you're here." I shake my head in the negative, so he continues. "I didn't think so. The man upstairs sent us both here to retrieve something of great value to Him. We'll be working together so I'll be staying with you for the time being." I blame it on Luna when confusion pushes its way into my head. Man upstairs? I'm the man upstairs. No one else lives in my apartment. "I think you may be mistaken. I'm the only person who lives in the apartment upstairs," I tell him. Devon looks at me as though I'm a few sandwiches short of a picnic. He rolls his eyes when he realizes I'm genuinely confused. "I meant Him. You know? The great Creator. God. Him." "Oh, of course. Sorry," I mumble, feeling my face grow red once again. I internally cringe, sure the man must think he's landed himself with an

idiot for a partner. Had I not still had Luna on my brain, I'd have known that. "And what might it be that we're here to retrieve?" I question, ignoring my flaming face and the way Devon is side eyeing me as though I'm going to say something else equally as ridiculous. He turns to face me fully now that I'm focused and he has my full attention. His eyes flicker to the front door before quickly meeting mine again. All color drains from my face when he replies. "A Fallen Angel."

Luna I take my time strolling back to Frenchie's, basking in the last of the sunlight that's slowly fading into darkness. I tilt my head back and watch the sky turn from shades of bright orange and yellow, to various shades of purples, pinks, and blue. I go back to thinking about the guy I saw walking towards the library as I was leaving. The color of his hair caught my attention easily, and I know I've seen it before, but I can't remember where. He felt familiar to me somehow, but no matter how much I wrack my brain, no memory comes to me, so I'm left to wonder who the hell he is. It takes me no time to reach the store due to my steady pace. I hadn't realized how close that library was to Frenchie's. That makes things

convenient for me when I decide to visit the Tardis library again. I reach my hand into my sheer lace bra and pull out the key to the coffee shop that I remembered to tuck in there before leaving my apartment for the day, pleased with myself for deciding my bra was the best place for its safekeeping today. I reach the locked door to the store and let myself in, flicking the lock when the door closes securely behind me. I shuffle my feet a few steps into the room but come to a sudden stop when the lights flick on. All thoughts of the stranger with incredibly pale hair vanish from my mind when I land face to face with the giant I escaped earlier, the man standing directly in fucking front of me. I scream like a raving banshee from the scare and clasp my hands over my chest where I can feel my heart thundering in rapid succession. I make a move to turn and run, only to get caught around the waist by a different set of arms that don't belong to the angry looking Angel who's now behind me. "Now, where do you think you're going,

Flower? We've been waiting hours for you," comes the amused voice of the Angel I quickly realize is the redhead from before, the one with the killer smile, drop dead gorgeous looks and used that exact nickname before I figured out he, too, is an Angel. Damn it. "You shouldn't have. Really," I sarcastically retort, wriggling my body in hopes that if I move the right way, he'll lose his grip on me. No such luck when the asshole rights my body, moving me like I weigh next to nothing. He places me on my feet, body facing Asher the Angry Angel and wraps his toned arms around my waist, pulling me flush so his entire body suctions itself to mine. I mean, literally his entire body. Repeating 'it's a torch, he's not happy to see me' repeatedly in my head as not to get distracted by the bulge I can distinctly feel pressing up against my ass, I focus on the Angel before me. The Angel who still looks like he wants to throttle the shit out of me. Damn. Weren’t two orgasms enough to calm him down? Maybe I should give him another. I inhale ready to start singing again, when

the man lifts a beefy hand and points at me, grinding out, "Don't you fucking dare." My breath leaves me in a whoosh of air, and I feel the redhead's body vibrate behind me with suppressed laughter. I accidentally crack a smile when the man snorts when holding his laughter fails miserably, and Asher’s eyes narrow dangerously on the two of us. I elbow the Angel who's still holding me snugly to his chest and loud-whisper, "Don't laugh at the Asher the Angry Angel. Clearly two orgasms did nothing to tame the beast. Don't want anything to happen to that pretty face of yours." The redhead openly laughs harder at his friend's expense and Asher’s eyes narrow even more so, enough that I'd be surprised if he can even see anything out of them. I shimmy some more, tugging to get away from the Angel holding me hostage, but it's a futile attempt when he pulls me even tighter to his body. His laughter tapers off and he leans his head down, his mouth lightly touching the shell of my ear. I suppress a shudder of desire from racking my body,

not willing to give him the satisfaction that he's affecting me. The redhead whispers, "I'll let you go only if you swear not to try another attempt at running." I huff and stand straighter, deciding it's the least I can offer if it means I won't be restrained further. Lifting my right hand, I draw a cross that visibly shows in a brilliant silver light and vow, "I swear I won't try to run away." The bright X sinks into my skin, the light fading to a soft glow under the surface of my skin. It's enough for the Angel behind me when he reluctantly releases me from his hold. I move to the side so both Angels are in my sight but not close enough to touch. It's then that I realize I haven't seen Ms. Frenchie yet. My guard instantly goes up and my stance turns rigid, my hands clenching at my side. "Where the fuck is Francis?" I ask carefully, pronouncing each word slowly. The two Angels look at each other but don't answer. I feel my panic rising and with it comes anger. They better hope on their pretty little wings

that not a hair on that old woman's head has been harmed. When the assholes do nothing but keep staring, I growl again, "Where the fuck is Francis?" My eyes flash a blinding silver, my anger getting the best of me, and I catch the redhead flinch and his eyes widen a fraction. He moves a step backwards, eyeing me wearily as though he's preparing for me to lose control of my temper. Asher is quick to calm me down with his next words, "The old lady is upstairs, if that's who you're referring to. We didn't touch her. She actually let us stay until you arrived, locked up after the last of the customers left and went to her apartment. Said she knew you'd be back for the cookies." My anger flees as quick as it arrived, my eyes instantly going back to their muted grey and my entire body sags from the relief that the old bat is okay. My fists unclench and I rub my thumb over the indents my nails left in my palms. It then registers that Asher said Ms. Frenchie let them stay. Oh, I'm really stealing her horse-dog this time.

Meddling crazy lady. Now that the adrenaline from too many scares in one day is dissipating as quick as candy floss in water, exhaustion slams into my bones from every direction. I rub my hands over my face, careful not to smudge my carefully applied makeup and throw my hair up in a messy high ponytail. I ignore the Angels who are still watching me carefully and go in search of the aformentioned cookies. I spot them on the counter immediately and tuck into the deliciousness that is double chocolate chip. I finish my second cookie before turning to face the two incredibly good-looking men, and ask, “What the shit are you two doing here?" Asher and his friend quickly look at each other before Asher answers my question. "Waiting for you." Not one to mince words, is he? I roll my eyes and face his friend, the Angel I still don't know the name of. I raise my eyebrow and lean back against the counter, asking the question again. "I'll tell you if I can have cookie. I'm

fucking starved from waiting on your pretty little ass to get back here," he responds dramatically, rubbing a tatted hand over his flat stomach. I give him another eye roll, but when he pouts, I hold the plate out for him, biting the inside of my cheek to stop myself smiling at his antics. He steps closer and picks a cookie off the plate. I seem to be in a generous mood, so I pick another one off the plate and hand the second cookie to him, before snatching one for myself. I have no idea why I’m giving the jackass who scared ten years off my life – snort - more of my precious goods, but the thought of him being hungry when I have a plate full of cookies doesn’t sit right with me. Weird seeing as though I never share my cookies. Ever. His face shows his surprise before it morphs into a panty melting smile, and two of the most glorious dimples make an appearance. Why did he have to have dimples, too? They're like my kryptonite. I'm being punished, I just know it. The handsome asshole cheerily says his thanks and, instead of shifting back to where he

stood, he settles himself right next to me, leaning his body on the counter beside me where his arm brushes mine. I give him a confused side eye, but decide my cookie needs more attention. Asher, however, feels differently, obnoxiously coughing until both Redhead and I look up from our treats. "You're just going to stand there eating?" he asks whilst folding his gloriously meaty arms across the wide expanse of his chest. I drool a little when his arms flex, but I place the half-eaten cookie in front of my mouth so I don't give myself away. As a way of answering his question, I continue eating my baked goods whilst staring him in directly in the eye. When I lick my fingers and thumbs, savoring every morsel of my cookie, I catch his eyes darkening as he watches every movement. I decide that maybe it's a mistake when my belly tightens, and my neglected vagina perks up at the way his eyes zero in on my mouth. I cough awkwardly and then completely ignore the man that has no right to make my body stand to attention. I turn to face Redhead and lean my hip on the counter. I catch him trying to sneak

another cookie, so I slap his hand before he reaches them. He snatches it back like he got stung by a scorpion and faces me with his eyebrows almost hitting his hairline. "That wasn't nice. Sharing is caring, Flower," he grumbles. "I'll share more when you tell me your name and what the fuck the pair of you are doing here," I retort. I cross my arms over my breasts, mirroring Asher’s pose but looking a lot less intimidating. Redhead wipes his hands on his jeans before holding his now crumb free hand out for me to shake. I eye it wearily before placing my smaller hand in his. Nothing happens this time, no eye flashes or crazy revelations, likely because we shook hands earlier and I'm now fully aware that he's an Angel. "Name's Elijah Vaughn. Brother of that grizzly bear behind you who's glaring sharp daggers at my hand right now," he responds. My head whips around to face Asher, who'd stealthy moved closer to where Elijah and I stood. I catch his gaze snap up swiftly and he looks away sharply when his eyes

connect with mine. I turn back around with an amused grin and shake Elijah's hand once before letting go. It registers that he called Asher his brother, which pulls me up short. “Wait, brother? You look nothing alike,” I point out obviously, my eyebrows drawn down in confusion. “We aren’t blood related. Just brothers in every way that counts,” Elijah responds, nodding with a small smile on his handsome face, his dimples peeking through the light stubble he’s sporting. I’ll admit, I might have turned a little gooey with that revelation, but he still hasn't explained why they’re standing in Frenchie’s waiting on me. "Well, Elijah-" "You can call me Eli," he's quick to rectify, and I begrudgingly smile again. Damn him for making me smile. "Alright, Eli. Why are you still here?" A mischievous glint appears in his eyes before he responds, "Thought Asher could loosen up some more. Got anymore boner magic on you?"

He deadpans, not a twitch of a smile or a flare of a nostril. I don't miss a beat, responding with a straight face. "I'm all out, sorry. Big Man there took up a lot of juice just to get two orgasms out of me. Selfish, really. I mean, he got two, when all I got was a fucking stitch from an unplanned jog through the streets." When I hear a whispered, "For fucks sake," and a groan, I lose the battle with my laughter, which is quickly followed by Eli's. I'm wiping carefully under my eyes, ridding myself of the tears of hilarity, while our laughter tapers off and a comfortable silence settles in the room. "Okay, seriously. Tell me." I break into the quiet, looking between the two hotter than hell guys I've suddenly found myself standing between. I’ve no idea when Asher got even closer, but there he stands, only a foot away from my back. The man moves as silent as the fucking dead, that's for sure. Eli opens his mouth to respond, but Asher must get tired of the banter when he decides to cut in before his brother can get another jab in at his

expense and tells me exactly why they're still hanging around in my café. "We're going home with you."

Luna I choke on my next inhale, almost hacking up a lung when a coughing fit ensues. Eli, ever so helpful, claps my back a few times, attempting to aid in stopping my spluttering. When I'm able to breathe again, I look wide-eyed in Asher’s direction and blurt, "No the fuck you aren't, you fruit loop. What the hell is wrong with you? Got a little taste and want more, huh? Not today, buddy." I move away from the counter and storm to the back of the store to find my purse. Sure enough, I find it tucked away in the storeroom and I silently call up my thanks to Ms. Frenchie for snatching it up and hiding it for me. I rip my purse from where it lays on a secluded stool in the corner and thunder out back to the main room. I'm walking in a cloud of frustration, outrage and shock. The damn nerve. I should kick his balls into his esophagus for being

cocky enough to think that shit would fly. Rude jackass. I don't miss the look Eli is giving Asher when I barrel passed them, hooking my purse over my shoulder and storming my way to the door. I hear him quietly whisper, "This is why the talking should be left to me, you idiot." But I don't stop to pay any more attention or question what he means. I get the door open, move to the other side and close it before they even realize that I'm out of the store and am now standing on the street. I look back in time to see both of their heads shoot up at the sound of the lock latching in place. I watch as realization slowly dawns on them, and witness the moment they realize I’ve locked them in. I pull the key out of the keyhole and move to the wide window. When their eyes swing towards me, I make a show of tucking the key back in my bra before offering them an eyebrow raise. Giving them both a sweet as pie grin, I give them the universal one finger salute before turning to leaving. I can hear two sets of knuckles knocking on glass, but I ignore it and head to my car that's

parked in the alley next to the store. I make it to my car, strap myself in and heat up my baby in record time. I turn my car on and am about to drive home, when a beast of a figure I'm becoming all too familiar with steps in front of my bumper. I groan and lean my head back on my leather seats is exasperation. Can't I catch a break? A knock at my passenger window has my head snapping back down to find Eli's beautiful dimples winking at me when he smiles apprehensively. I roll the window down enough to hear, and he leans his forearm on the roof of my car while leaning towards the gap I've made. “How the fuck did you get out without a key? You better not have disturbed Francis,” I growl. That woman needs rest after the day we’ve had. “You’re not the only one with a few tricks up her sleeve,” he replies with a cheeky wink. Oh, how I wish that wink did nothing for me, but alas, my life is falling ass over tit these days. He’s quiet for a few more minutes, enough that my patience is lost, the need to go home and relax becoming as

strong as my irritation to having my plans delayed. "What?" I snap, eyes narrowing at the annoyingly good-looking Angel. "I'm sorry. Asher didn't mean what he said the way it sounded. He just isn't good with words when he's worked up and frustrated. Can I explain?" he asks, his voice gentle and somewhat pleading. I glance at Asher, who's still stood directly in front of my car, and narrow my eyes at him. I turn to face Eli, intended to give him the same scowl, but his dimples disarm me, and my face smooths out. I don't give him the smile that wants to break out, however. I'm not a dummy. I watch him for a moment before I cave. "Talk. And do it quickly. I have shit to do," I lie. I have nothing but binge watching the new Chilling Adventures of Sabrina program that's recently been added to Netflix and a date with a tropical smelling bath bomb that I can practically hear calling my name from here, but he doesn't need to know that. He takes my acceptance for an explanation as an invitation to sit in my car when he opens to

door and plonks his firm ass into my passenger seat. Before I can open my mouth to reprimand him, he's shoving my plate of abandoned cookies under my nose, and I decide that maybe sitting in the warmth of my vehicle while he explains isn't too bad of an idea. I gratefully accept the plate of cookies, picking one from under the film covering them and nibble while I wait for him to explain. He doesn't leave me waiting and pushes on with his clarification. "He didn't mean we're going home with you in any way other than the face value of those words. What he didn't manage to say was that he thought it only fair that, after the stunt you pulled earlier, the least you could do was let us stay with you for a little while. His words, not mine. Though I probably should have used mine if the angry scowl you're wearing is anything to go by." My eyes are narrowed dangerously on him, and I'm holding my temper back, but he's one sentence away from having my foot lodged up his ass. He holds his hands up and continues

quickly. "Okay, let me try again. Can we please crash with you for a little while? My brother and I have been holed up in the shittiest motel ever and we could really do with being somewhere with a little comfort, you know? We could call it compensation for making my brother embarrass himself twice in front of an audience. We won't be any trouble-" I snort, cutting him off. I raise my eyebrow at him, and he corrects himself. "Won't be much trouble? Anyway, we'd seriously appreciate it. I'll even bake you cookies." Bastard. I've shown my hand. He knows I love cookies. I facepalm hard, the sound of skin connecting with skin loud in the now quiet car. I groan before turning to the man now sporting a bright smile. "Just so you know, that was payback. The idiot tried to hide that he was an Angel. He tried to hide that he knew I was, too. He hasn't got a good poker face. He made me feel stupid, so I returned

the favor," I explain a little indignantly. He's nodding his head a little too vigorously and says, "Completely deserved. You had every right. I'm on your side. One hundred percent." I give him a bland look and groan, "Goddamn suck up." I roll my eyes at his laugh and slide my window down. Poking my head out to the side, I yell out, "Get in the car, asshole." I stuff the last cookie in my mouth just in time for Asher to squeeze himself in the back seat after Eli got out and folded his seat down as far as it would go. Watching a muscled guy trying to squeeze into a car with very little room on the inside has quickly become one of my favorite things after watching Asher's wide frame jostling about, trying to find the right angle to fit into the too-small-for-him car. Once his ass is secured in the back seat, Eli pokes his head in the car and tells us he'll grab their bags. Presumptuous jackasses had their bags packed and ready and waiting at Frenchie’s. I find myself closing my eyes in exasperation and exhaustion until Asher quietly grumbles, "Sorry."

My eyes reopen, and I stare at the ceiling for a second. Did...did he just apologize? "Hmm?" I tiredly respond, not sure I heard him properly, or if my sleepy brain is making things up. Wouldn’t be the first time. "I said I’m sorry. Didn't mean what I said to come across like it did," he says before continuing, "and... thanks. For letting us stay." It’s quiet for a second while I decide that maybe I should apologize, too. I mean, I did make him blow a load twice in public. Only seems fair, right? “I guess I’m sorry, too. You know, for the... the incident.” My gaze flickers up to my rear-view mirror, only to find Asher's eyes already there. His eyes bore into mine, intense now that we're alone in my small interior car. I give him a quick nod in acceptance of his short but sufficient apology and break my gaze away from his, opting to rest my head on the headrest while we wait the short time it takes Eli to grab their things. Then he’s back in the passenger side and we're heading to my loft

apartment in no time at all, making the short drive in comfortable silence. *** The walk up the five flights of stairs in done without a word spoken. Eli and Asher trail behind me, Eli close to my back and Asher not too far further behind. We reach the top of the building and I pull my door key out of my purse. Unlocking the door and shuffling my exhausted body inside, I hold the door open for the two Angels, allowing them to enter my home. The take their time looking around, no doubt noting the very expensive ornaments that I’d collected centuries ago, the ancient first edition books on the shelves, and the way I've filled my home with a mix of modern and vintage furnishings. My home is decorated with things I've accumulated over the years, some costing more than others when they're original pieces or things I got straight from the source. I have vintage chests

sitting in one corner filled with old vinyl records, the first ever made, and then I have a wall of blue rays next to my huge television. My home has the well lived in feel, the comfort of a home being a home, and it should seeing as I haven't moved from this spot in almost seventy years. It doesn't look out of sorts, though. It all blends surprisingly well. Something Eli confirms with an impressed whistle and an awed expression. "Nice," he whispers, walking towards my wall of books and gently skimming his hands over the spines. Asher is browsing through my selection of DVDs, so I decide to head into the kitchen and find my beloved wine. I find a glass in one of the cupboards, pour myself more than I probably should, and take a deep sip of the fruity alcohol. "You two want anything to drink?" I ask after taking a smaller sip of my drink. Asher ditches the movies and walks to the opposite side of the island that separates the kitchen and living room. He leans his elbows on the dark marble surface and answers, "I could do with

a coffee if you have some, thanks." "Sure. If you're staying here for a little while, I may as well show you how to use the machine, so come here," I tell him, pulling a coffee pod out of the box I keep in the cupboard above the blessed coffee machine I had the good sense to buy a couple of months ago. Once I have the pod in place, I feel Asher's body move close to my back. When I turn my head to check how close he is, I startle a little when I see his head is directly next to mine, my lips almost brushing his cheek as I turn. He's watching me carefully, observing what I'm doing. I mean, it's a coffee machine. You just have to push a few buttons and wait, but he's watching like I'm explaining how to build a rocket. I can feel his firm body resting against mine, his taut, muscled chest leaning gently on my back. I can feel every intake and exhale of breaths, hot hair tickling the hair at the nape of my next. I'm suppressing another shiver when the smell of leather and spearmint hit my nostrils, a scent that I somehow know is distinctly Asher.

"You don't have to stand so close," I tell him, my voice barely above a whisper. I start to become flustered at Asher’s close proximity, not used to having sexy guys crowd me. My breathing picks up slightly when he leans closer and whispers back, "I know." We stand that way until I finish showing him the ins out outs of how to use the simple machine and find out that he drinks his coffee black whilst I make him his mug of caffeine. He moves to the other side of the island again when I'm done and I slide the ceramic mug with a cartoon donkey and quote that says, 'Mornings suck ass' on the surface to him. We drink our beverages with nothing but the ticking of the clock as background noise. It's sometime later that Eli shuffles his way into the kitchen. "That's a badass collection of books you have in there. I'm impressed. Wouldn't have pegged you for a reader." I'm torn between being pleased that he thinks my collection is badass and offended that he

didn't think I was a reader. My tired brain makes its mind up and settles on being content with him complimenting my collection. I respond with a lazy "thanks" before taking my glass to the sink and turn to lean on the counter. I cross my arms and tilt my head back a little, my eyes slowly falling closed. "You look exhausted, Luna," Asher comments gently, his deep timbered voice wrapping around me in the comfiest hug. His soft-spoken words are a pleasant change from the gruff barking he's been doing since the coffee shop fiasco. A little surprise, too, considering he looks like the only thing he'd gently talk to would be that of a severed head of someone that did him wrong. With my eyes still closed, I mumble, "I could literally pass out where I'm standing and be okay with it. I'll wake up in the morning curled on the floor and I won't even question it. Probably fall back to sleep, actually." "Come on, Flower. Show us where to sleep and then get your ass to bed," Eli’s lighter but no less alluring voice butts in, the cheeky command causing me to huff out a laugh.

I groan before tipping my head back down and opening my eyes. "You guys can have the spare room. There's a queen size bed and a sofa bed in there. You can fight over who has which." I drag my feet out of the kitchen and lead down the small hall and to the back bedroom I turned into a spare room for when Ms. Frenchie would stay with me weeks on end. "There's an attached bathroom right through there," I point to the door on the left of the room before continuing, "my room is upstairs, and I have an ensuite so there won't be any awkward fumbling for the bathroom. There’re extra blankets in the closet, top shelf. Make yourselves at home, I guess." Eli surprises me with a hug before I turn to leave, softly whispering, "Thanks, Flower." I freeze and pat his back awkwardly, not being one who's used to freely given affection unless it’s from Ms. Frenchie, which is rare in its own right. He holds me until my body relaxes into his and I return the hug properly, resting my head under his chin and wrapping arms around his toned

torso. This is…really nice. So, this is what I’ve been missing, huh? He lets me go after a little squeeze and I miss the contact immediately. Asher offers his thanks before giving me the smallest of smiles, something that's gone as fast as it appears. Tiredly, I tell them, “Holler if you need me. In a while, crocodiles." With that, I'm heading out of the room, down the short hallway and up the stairs to my room, dragging my ass slowly up every step. By the time I'm in a loose fitted shirt and boy shorts, I'm ready to drop. The moment my head hits my pillow, I'm dead to the world.

Asher Eli is laying in the pull-out sofa bed, content to have a decent bed for the night. His snoring is soft, breathing deep, making me aware that he's crashed hard after the shitty sleep he's had in the motel we'd rented. We played 'rock, paper, scissors' for the queen-sized bed the moment Luna left for bed, but he didn't seem sore about losing. If anything, he just seemed happy to have a comfortable, clean bed to sleep in. I've been lying awake for the last two hours, sleep evading me no matter how hard I try to succumb to my subconsciousness. I've been tossing and turning since falling into the soft mountain of cushions and duvet that had been stacked neatly before I crashed into it all. The little alarm clock flashing four in the morning, when I hear a noise from upstairs. At first,

it sounds like a soft feminine moan, but it quickly turns into muted anguished cries. I listen for a moment longer, but a sob and a quiet 'please' that I manage to hear from here has me shucking the covers and jumping out of bed. I'm out of the door and up the stairs to Luna's room faster than a blink, and I stop in front of her door and listen. Sure enough, another heart wrenching cry hits my eardrums through the door. When a pained sob comes shortly after, I decide intruding on her privacy isn't so bad when it literally sounds like she's being tortured in her own room. Slowly sliding the door open, the scene that greets me has my heart picking up pace for two reasons. The first would be Luna lying in bed with the covers strewn everywhere, her baggy shirt risen up her back and her, what I'm assuming to be underwear, on full display, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her underwear is the last of my focus, however. I can see two long, uneven scars on her back, partly hidden by the shirt, that are barely visible under the magnificent tattoo of a set of

beautiful black wings. It doesn't take a genius to realize she's tattooed over her wing scars. There's a sharp ache in my chest at the thought of her losing her wings, a sickening feeling in my gut at the pain she must have gone through. The second thing that has my heart pounding unsteadily is the way the sassy, vibrant woman I met is lying in the fetal position, her arms hugging her stomach, knees up high to her chest. She looks like she's tried to pull herself into the smallest position she could manage. The pillow her head is resting on is soaked, and a sheen of tears covers her beautiful face. She looks tiny and vulnerable, the back chatting, fierce woman nowhere to be seen. Her face is pinched in an expression that makes swallowing difficult, a display of pure agony in her scrunched eyebrows and her eyes that are squeezed as tight as possible. Another cry has my feet moving further into the room, closer to the bed. As though she can feel my presence, she flinches and caves in further into herself. This close, I can see her entire body is trembling and a layer of sweat covers her entire

body from head to toe. What the hell could be causing such a reaction? When yet another cry comes spilling from her parted lips, I decide to take a trip into her dreams using one of the gifts I was blessed with before the Reaping. I was gifted with the Power of Dreams, where I'm able to enter the dreams of others, and potentially influence and control those dreams. I normally try to avoid controlling dreams or influencing them too much. Can never tell what kind of damage it would cause once the dreamer woke up. I crouch down until I'm face level with Luna, and I watch a few more tears run down her face before breathing a cold stream of air in her face. My power is visible in that one single breath, a light blue mist with sapphire sparks languidly flowing from my mouth and bathing Lunas face. I sit down and lean my back against the bed and wait for my power to pull me into a dream I'm already dreading. It doesn't take long when I feel reality fading and my mind falling into world of Luna’s

making. I blink a couple of times, ridding my eyes of the blurriness that always accompanies Dream Jumping. When my vision adjusts, I find myself looking at another version of Luna, very much in the exact same position, lying on a ground covered in dirt and rubble. Only this Luna isn't in her night wear, clean and pristine. No, this Luna is covered from top to bottom in dirt and blood. Her once white dress, a toga if I'm recognizing it correctly, is tattered, stained and barely hanging on to her lean frame. Her hair, a light silvery white, is matted and caked with dried and fresh blood. She looks like she's been dragged through a war and came out worse for wear. Dragging my eyes away from the broken woman before me, I glance around my surroundings. There's nothing surrounding us for miles and miles, my eyesight only seeing flat ground covered in rubble, grit and dirt. There's literally nothing as far as I can see. A whimper has me spinning around to face Luna where she lies with her face pushed into the ground. I walk until I'm close enough to hear her delirious rambling, unable to work out what she's

saying through her cries. I check her over for any signs that she's injured, trying to work out what her dream is about, when I spot most of the blood that covers her dress coming from her back. I pay closer attention, bending slightly to look at her bloodsoaked skin, and that's where I see two of the most gruesome, jagged wounds slashed down her back. The skin is torn and shredded, raw and still pulsing blood from the openings where her wings were once attached. I quickly come to the realization that I've found myself witnessing the aftermath of Lunas Fall. Her cries of agony making a lot more sense now that I've seen firsthand what she suffered when she was exiled from Heaven. A sharp pain hits me in my chest, my heart physically aching for the beaten Angel hurting and shivering in pain in front of me. Lunas rambling kicks up again, so I lean down to hear better. I angle my head close enough that I manage to hear bits and pieces and immediately regret it the moment I work out what she's saying.

"Make it stop. It hurts so bad. Make it stop. Please, make it stop." She has no idea that I'm here. After all, this is a dream of hers, reliving one of the most painful looking experiences imaginable, so I know she isn't talking to me. Simply uttering words in hopes that someone stops her suffering. With a sharp cry pouring from her, my heart shatters. I can't stand here watching her suffer and do nothing about it. I can't listen to her pain pour in agonizing waves from her dry, cracked lips a moment longer without doing something. Throwing all caution to the wind, I fall to my knees and crawl until her head rests directly in front of my thick thighs. Being as gentle as I possibly can, I tuck my hands under her head and lift. She cries out in pain, but I make quick work of resting her head back down on my lap. The noises of distress quieting down a fraction until she's silently crying, tears dripping down onto my grey sweatpants. With her somewhat settled, I begin to brush my hand through her hair, untangling knots and removing debris from her pale strands. I move it

away from her face and pull it far from her back as not to irritate the wounds further. With her hair out of the way, I gently draw my finger across her dirt covered face, softly brushing a finger across her skin in a soothing gesture. I do this for a little while, and it seems to give her some comfort when the sobbing and gut kicking cries lessen. Just when I think she's passed out, she croaks, "Who are you?" I don't answer, just continue to stroke my hand over her stunning features, hoping she'll let it go and fall to sleep, accepting my comfort without question. Luna hasn't changed one bit, it seems, when she asks again, "Who are you? You've never been here any other time I've suffered through these dreams. Who are you and why are you here now?" Holding on to my silence causes more trouble than answering her when she feebly bats my hand out of the way and carefully tilts her head up to see for herself. When her pale grey eyes connect with my dark blues, they widen and she stills, whispering, "Asher?"

With a sigh, I respond, "Yeah, it's me. Just try to relax, okay?" Surprisingly enough, she does as she's told, dropping her head back into my lap. I continue my brushing, tenderly trailing a thumb and forefinger across her bruised skin. I faintly hear her sigh softly before it's cut off by a sharp intake of air and a body wracking sob. "Shh. I'm here, you're not suffering alone. I'm here," I soothe, holding her carefully as her cries slow down. "How are you here, Asher?" She hiccups, her small hand slowly and shakily reaching up to capture my spare hand that rests high on the opposite thigh, "You're really here. I can feel you. How?" She doesn't let go of my hand, so I keep it where it is when I answer her, "You're dreaming, which you already know. I couldn't sleep, and I could hear you crying and calling out in pain. Thought something was wrong, so I went to check on you. Nothing looked out of place, but it sounded like you were in agony, so... I used one of my gifts

and jumped into your dream. I'm sorry, but I couldn't listen to you cry without knowing what was causing it or-" She cuts me off with her hushed words, "Thank you. So much." I don't respond. Instead I continue to stroke her hair and face, holding her a little tighter every time another wave of pain washes over her body. It's some time later when she starts to drift off to sleep, indicating that she'll be leaving her dream very shortly. Before she succumbs to her body's need for sleep, she asks one last question. "Why did you come check on me?" I go quiet for a moment while I think on it and come up with the only answer I know to give her there and then. "Because it hurt to hear you hurt." With that, she drifts off to sleep and I'm evicted from her dream world. I come back to my body with a sharp intake of air and my eyes snap open to the still dark room of Luna’s. Her curtains are still open, so the moon's light shines softly across her room, highlighting

little ornaments, paintings and photos of an unchanged Luna and a younger Ms. Frenchie. When I find my focus, I make move to leave Lunas room so she can rest peacefully when I feel a weight in the crook of my neck, partly on my shoulder and partly on my neck. carefully moving my head, I look down to see Lunas clean, pale hand resting on my bare skin. I twist my head around again and note that Luna's moved in her sleep and instead of the fetal position I found her in, she's now lying with her body at the edge of the bed. Her body is curved around where my head pokes up from the side of her bed where I'm still resting, her head close to mine and her knees pulled up close to the other side of my head. I turn my head slowly to look at her face, confirming she's sound asleep and no longer in pain, her features smoothed out in peace and the smallest hint of a smile resting on her mouth. Lifting my hand, I go to remove hers from where it's resting on my shoulder, only for her hold to tighten. I go to stand slowly, but she huffs in her sleep. Not wanting to disturb her now that she's

finally asleep without trouble, I decide to stay where I am until she moves in her sleep, allowing me to leave the room without waking her. Only, I don't get that far, when the time starts ticking by and exhaustion starts to weigh on me. I can feel myself falling to sleep when Luna unconsciously begins to rub her thumb over my neck, lulling me into one of the most relaxing sleeps I've ever had.

Luna The morning light shining through my unclosed curtains is what rouses me from the best night's sleep I've had in... well, ever. Every night I'm plagued with dreams, or nightmares rather, of my time falling. I guess it's the aftermath of my Fall, considering I don't actually remember the whole falling part. The only thing my brain remembers of that night is waking up in a crater of my own making, my Fall hard enough that the ground from miles from where I'd landed had flattened out, nothing but rubble and debris littering the earth around me. I also remember the pain. The godawful, mind numbing, soul shattering pain. I remember the blood, so much blood. My mind won’t let me forget about any of it, not my blood and dirt caked dress, the once beautifully white material tainted red. Not the smell of copper, so

strong that the smell of blood today nauseates me, and certainly not the fact that I'd been writhing in sheer agony without a single damned soul around. No one to help me, no one to hear my pleas to end the suffering, no one to hold my fucking hand while I endured every ounce of mind splitting pain that raced all through my body, the source coming from where my one gloriously pristine white and silver wings had been attached. I'm forced to relive the worst moment of my incredibly long life every single night, no reprieve from the one memory I'd love nothing more than to forget. Until last night. My dream had barely begun, my subconscious already in the first stages of the nightmare that makes me remember every painful intake of air and excruciating exhale, every slight movement that would cause another wave of hurt to wrack my already broken body. Just at the very beginning did Asher blessedly pop into my dream. I hadn't even reached the worst part where my skin sealed itself together, feeling every thread of skin

tighten and pull together, every noise of flesh stitching with other bits of flesh, the feel of my blood soaking further into my already ruined dress and pooling on the ground underneath me. I've never been so glad to see another person in all my life, feel another presence with me while I suffered. Forgotten was the fact that this Angel could be doing the dirty work of Him or Lucifer, gone was the fact that he'd made me feel like an idiot when we first met. There and then, he was my saving grace, my soothing balm when a raging inferno crawled all over my skin with no way for me to stop it. Asher was there in my worst moment. He stroked my hair and comforted me, whispering little nothings in my ear while I endured the same thing I do night after night. He helped me. But... now what? How do I face the guy, knowing he's witnessed the only moment I've ever been at my most vulnerable? How do I acknowledge what he did for me without making things awkward or

weird? The potential to make things less uncomfortable is quickly yanked from me, stomped on and thrown out of the window when I feel movement from behind me. In my bed. Where I should be very, very alone. I'm wide awake in a split second, my eyes widening to the size of the fucking moon when I feel what I'm hoping to be a damn flash light digging into the top of my ass. A pretty big flashlight, at that. I feel a tightening under my breasts, looking down to spot a very toned, tattooed arm wrapped snugly over my ribcage where my heart lays underneath picking up speed. I feel a hand resting on my hip and I see that it's a tattooless, tanned hand that holds me firmly to what I'm quickly realizing is a firm, muscled body. I try to turn slowly so I can confirm who I think it is lying in bed holding me tight to his body, but the arms that hold me tighten further, a deep, gravely groan coming from my snuggle buddy. I don't want to admit that growl does very funny things to my body, my nipples hardening under my baggy sleep shirt, and an enthusiastic fluttering

making itself an unwanted resident in my belly. I try to twist again, a futile attempt when a roughened voice due to sleep grumbles, "Go back to sleep, Luna, for fucks sake." So, Asher is grumpy in the morning. Good to know. Sadly for him, however, his dick is prodding me in the back and sleep is the furthest thing from my mind right about now. Instead of listening to the grizzly bear, I manage to wriggle and shuffle my body until I'm twisted around to face him, his arms going slack enough to let me. His eyes are still closed when I plonk my head back down onto the pillow, so I snatch the opportunity to look him over. His hair is mussed in the sexiest way possible, his dark locks sporting the just slept look all women go crazy for, hints of blue winking at me where the sun hits it. His shirtless torso is truly a sight to behold, firm muscles in all the right places. His toned arms are enough to make weaker women weep with joy, and that pesky fluttering turns into a hoard of butterflies when my eyes drink him in. He's downright fucking gorgeous. It's unfair, really,

when he could be working for the dipshit that defied Him before me, or Him who's a dipshit in His own right. I definitely shouldn't be having thoughts about the thing in his pants and what he could do with it, all things considered. After my thorough perusal of the man before me, my gaze makes its way back up to his face, only for my breath to catch when my eyes connect to his bright blues. His gaze is intense, and I feel my body flush in both arousal at the lust filled look he's giving me and embarrassment at being caught. He watches me carefully, his eyes searching for something in mine. He must find whatever it was he was looking for when he pulls me tighter to his hard body, the hand on my hip sliding to my ass and holds firm. My heart is doing double time, my skin feels flushed all over. He slowly pulls my thigh up and over his hip, and holds my ass tight to him, the very distinct feel of his bulge pressing into the place that hasn't had nearly enough attention in far too long. My body lights up from the inside out, a shot of desire shooting straight to my core.

He leans his head forward slightly, giving me ample opportunity to pull away or stop him, but when I make no move to shove him from me, his head moves at a faster pace until his gloriously soft but firm lips press into mine. A very undignified moan crawls from my voice box when the hand under my head slides into my hair and uses it to pull my head back to get a better angle. His kiss gets deeper and my panties get a whole lot wetter at the feel of his tongue brushing my bottom lip, seeking entrance. When I don't comply fast enough, he nips at my lip causing me to gasp in both equal parts shock and pleasure. He seizes the opportunity, his tongue making entry and sensually stroking mine. The hand still on my ass pulls me tighter still to his body, effortlessly shifting my body to grind my sex deprived vagina on his ever-hardening shaft, eliciting a thigh clenching growl from him. A loud knock at my door has us both freezing, his lips breaking away from mine. We're both panting, staring wide eyed at each other when another knock sounds from my bedroom door.

"Ash, you in there?" Eli calls, opening the door without waiting for admittance. "Hey, Luna, have you seen my-" His voice cuts off when his eyes connect with mine that are staring like a deer caught in the headlights at him. His face is plastered in shock until he recovers, and a cheeky grin slowly makes its way onto his face. "Brother," he finishes. "Never mind. Seems you found him, Flower. Don’t mind me, just going back the way I came. Guess I'll see you both downstairs." He's turning and walking back out of the door with an annoying pep in his step before I can make my voice box work. What the fuck just happened? My head moves back to face Asher, who is already staring right at me. I go to open my mouth when he kisses me soundly, causing my brain to somehow malfunction and forget what it had prepared me to say. He pulls back slightly before giving me one last swift kiss and then says, "Don't make it awkward."

Don't make it awkward? What in the fresh Hell? "Come on, peaches. I need food," he grumbles before flinging the duvet off us, the sudden chill causing me to shiver. How is he thinking about food, right now? I'm still a jumbled mess of hormones, need, and shock. Food isn't even in the perimeter of my mind’s thoughts. He's around my bed and walking out the door before I find my voice and splutter, "Seriously, what the fuck just happened?" Without bothering to put on pants, because no one needs that kind of negativity in their lives, and doing a quick panty change, I head out of my room and down the stairs. I move straight to the kitchen where the smell of coffee floats through the air. With my nose in the air and my eyes partly closed in coffee bliss, I navigate myself perfectly to the coffee machine, make myself a large mug of the glorious caffeine and add the right amount of creamer. With my mug clenched in my hand like a prized possession, I take a sip and sigh a heavenly sigh.

My eyes snap open when a noise that sounds like a pained groan comes from somewhere to my right. I face the direction in which the noise came, only to find both Asher and Eli watching me intently. Eli's wearing a shit eating grin that I'm wanting to both slap off his face and melt into a puddle at. Asher is sitting with his mug in one hand, and the other arm resting on the marble island. His face is stoic, but I can see the amusement in his eyes as he lifts his mug to take a sip of coffee. I don't realize I'm staring until Eli obnoxiously coughs and loudly proclaims, "so, you're spending time with me today, Flower. Seeing as though Asher had some... alone time, it seems only fair you grace me with your presence for the day." My jaw goes slack, and I almost drop my blessed coffee when he winks my way before heading to his room to get ready for the day. With my jaw still hitting the floor, I watch his ass in his check print sleep pants as he walks away before I remember Asher is still in the room and watching me.

I take another sip of coffee to hide my infuriating blush while silence fills the room. We drink our coffee in peace, but when Asher finishes his drink, he walks slowly around the island and to the sink that's placed in the counter I'm leaning on. His body brushes mine when he reaches over to place his mug in the sink, his leather and mint scent filling my senses. He stands incredibly close to me longer than is appropriate until I look up and stare at him dead on. "Have a nice day, peaches," he quietly rumbles. He makes to move away from me before my hand shoots out and I catch the waistband of his pants, keeping him in place. He gives me a questioning eyebrow raise and waits for me to speak. With a hard swallow, I tell him, "Thank you. For last night. I don't know how you did it, but... I can't tell you enough how much I appreciate it. You have no idea what it meant to me." The last of my sentence comes out a little choked up when my emotions get the best of me. Tears waver on my

eyelids, but I hold onto them, adamant not to cry in front of him. I don't need that embarrassment when he's already seen me at my worst. Ever so gently, he cups my cheek in his large hand before he whispers, "Don't thank me, Luna." My eyebrows furrow in confusion when he doesn't elaborate, his hand falling without giving me an explanation as to why I shouldn't thank the man for making the worst time in my life a lot more bearable. He turns and starts walking out but I shuck off my confusion and ask another question that I seem to need to know the answer to. "Why are you suddenly calling me peaches?" He stills before tuning his face slightly, only part of his face visible before he answers, "Because you taste like peaches." With that, he walks out of the kitchen and to his bedroom, but not before I catch a smirk tugging at his mouth, giving away his amusement at my newly given nickname.

Luna "You're not driving my car. She's my baby, my precious. Only I get to drive Nimbus," I sternly tell the persistent Angel who's now standing in front of me with the most pathetically adorable pout known to man. His hands are stapled in front of him in a pleading motion and his lower lip is sticking out comically. He bats his annoyingly long eyelashes a couple of times but when all I do is raise my left eyebrow, he huffs and throws his hands in the air. "Please, Flower! Pretty please. It's a Dodge Charger, my favorite car of all time, and you won't even let me drive us to Frenchie’s. What kind of injustice is that?" he pleads. "An injustice would be allowing anyone else to handle my pride and joy. Nimbus is not to be handled by an ammeter," I quip, swerving passed him and jumping into the front seat of the car.

With an over exaggerated groan, Eli drags his feet around the car and grumpily plonks himself in the passenger side, crossing his arms like a child. Though it should look petulant, I can't help but find him adorable for having a little tantrum at not being able to drive Nimbus. Who knew a grown ass man covered in tattoos could look cute pouting like a four year old? "Suck it up, buttercup," I laugh, nudging him in the knee with my hand before hitting the accelerator and driving us to Frenchie’s for a brief check in and coffee. "You'll cave, if it's the last thing I get you to do. You'll let me drive this car. I'm sure of it," he confidently remarks. I can see him staring from my peripheral, a gorgeous smile stretched across his mouth. I shake my head and huff out a laugh. "I accept that obvious challenge. I don't know if you haven't caught on yet, but I'm as stubborn as a mule. Not even cookies will make me give up the keys to my baby." "Mhmm. We'll see," he shoots back.

The rest of the short drive is filled with bickering, banter and laughing. It hits me when we reach Frenchie’s that these guys make it very easy to forget that I need to keep my guards up around them. I may have lied a little to Asher when I told him I didn't know how he just so happened to pop into my dream last night. I do, in fact, very much know. While I was a resident amongst the pearly white clouds of Heaven, I researched every single gift He bestowed on the Angels. I know the most powerful off by heart, the weaker I'd guess correctly if I were to witness them in action myself. I also know which gifts ended up in Hell with Lucifer and which stayed in the Heavenly realms He watches over, doing as much research as I could cram in before I was asked which side to take. Which is to say I know that Asher, and Eli by extension considering the brotherly bond, are some of Lucifer's advocates. Can't say that didn't suck Hulk balls, though I can't imagine I'd have been any more thrilled that they'd been His cheerleaders either.

For now, they haven't made any attempts to hurt me, Eli sticking true to his word. While that continues, I'll keep a mile-high guard up at all times, while also playing dumb about their visit to Earth. Somehow, knowing which side they're on and why they're here makes the situation easier for me. I know what I'm dealing with and I get to watch them both embarrass themselves by even trying to lure me to the Underworld. Fun times ahead, if you ask me. "Luna? Did you hear me?" Eli questions, tapping me gently on my bare shoulder. "Uh, no, sorry. I spaced out for a second there. What did you say?" He flashes a smile before he says, "There's an old lady standing outside with a bag of cookies. The bag looks pretty full, too." He nods his head towards the front door of Frenchie’s, pointing out Ms. Frenchie herself standing in the doorway with a frilly yellow apron and clashing mustard colored cable knit cardigan. He's right when he says the bag she's holding looks filled to the brim with cookies. And I know damn

well why. Sneaky, bribing old woman. We step out of the car and I deposit my car key in my bra, side eyeing Eli who catches the look and the placement of my now stashed key. He throws his head back and laughs causing an indulgent grin to form on my face. A cough breaks through my staring at the handsome man, and I turn to face the fiend who sold me out. "Francis. How are we this find morning?" I ask sweetly, smiling with my mouth, glaring daggers with my eyes. "Oh, just peachy, Loony Toon. Here, I made your favorites," she responds with equal faux sweetness, holding out the bag o triple chocolate and caramel goodies for me. When I get close enough, I whisper, "You're lucky I love your wrinkly ass, or else I'd have shoved you in the dumpster already." "I have no idea what you're talking about," comes her innocent but not really innocent reply. She knows what she did. She's just worried I will

actually steal her dog. "So, who's your friend?" "Like you didn't already meet him, you sell out," I say sarcastically. Her face remains stoic, trying really hard to remain the epitome of innocence. With a roll of my eyes, I tell her, "this is Elijah. Him and his brother, Asher, are staying with me for a while." Eli walks closer to my back and reaches a hand around me to shake Ms Frenchie's, "pleasure to meet you... again." The traitor I call my best friend laughs and shakes his hand in return. Eli doesn't move back once she lets go of his hand; if anything he pushes himself closer to where I'm stood and placed a warm hand on my lower back. It's comforting as much as it is an odd feeling. Not uncomfortable, just... unexpected. "Well, come on inside. Let's get some coffee in you before you go into zombie mode," Ms. Frenchie ushers us inside and lets the door shut on its own. "I'll bring your coffee to you." She shoots off like a bullet from a gun, so I

turn to Eli and shrug my bare shoulders before making my way to my spot. My long sleeve, black off the shoulder skater dress swishes as I walk, my toned legs striding towards my arm chair, the artwork on the left leg visible for all to see. The longer legged Angel, however, beats me to my corner and sits in my seat, resting back comfortably. "This has to be the comfiest chair I've ever sat in," he groans, folding his arms over his abdomen in contentment. "Yeah, it sure is. Now move," I bite out, placing my tatted hands on my hips, waiting for the pain in the ass to get out of my seat so I can bask in the comfort only that chair and one other can bring me. "Why would I move from this amazing chair?" He questions, looking at me as though I'm an idiot for demanding such a thing. My eyes narrow on him and I step closer before explaining. "That's my chair. Ever since this store opened, that's the only seat I take when I'm here. I've claimed in. You're in my seat."

A Cheshire like grin crawls across his face, a mischievous glint appears in his eyes. He gets even comfier in my chair before he talks. "I'll give up the seat. You have to agree to let me drive Nimbus before I get up, though." I stare at him for a moment, my face blank. He... he wants me to agree to let him drive my baby if he gives me my seat back? Is he deranged? I should really check Google for the answers to my Angel mental health questions. Not being one to hold back, I ask him as much. "Are you deranged? You're not driving my car, but you are going to give me my seat back." "I don't see your name on it," he cockily shoots back. Ha. Little does he know... "Check the left arm rest," I tell him with a smirk. I fold my arms over my chest and wait for him to comply. He stares at me for a moment longer, his own smirk resting on his mouth before he leans up and checks the arm of the chair. Sure enough, he finds a very neat calligraphy of my name stitched into the fabric of the chair. When he looks up at me with an amused expression, I give

him a triumphant grin. "So, you see, that is in fact my chair, so you need to move your booty into another one so I can sit there." He doesn't move. He leans back in the chair and closes his eyes as though preparing to spend a few hours in that very chair relaxing. "If you want the chair, you'll have to move me yourself. I'm way too comfortable where I am to willingly move." I give him a look of shock, one he can't see because his damn eyes are still shut. His smile only grows, however, making it known that he can feel my frustration building. I stare at him a little longer, but he makes no move to allow me to reclaim the seat he stole, so I threaten him with the only thing I can think of. "If you don't move, I'll sit on you." I'm inwardly rolling my eyes, because we all know that's a pathetic excuse for a threat, but I want my damn chair back. He snorts out a laugh before telling me, "If that's the best you've got, Flower, I'll be here for the duration of our stay. Feel free to find another seat,

though." With a menacing growl, I stomp off to the counter and point an offending finger as Ms Frenchie before proclaiming, "This is your fault! You and your meddling ways. You're like those meddling kids in Scooby Doo that always interfere with the villain's plans." "And what plans did I meddle in, exactly?" she asks, amusement lacing her words. She doesn't look up from her coffee making, looking down at the mugs in front of her, but I can see the smile she's poorly trying to hide. "My plan to sit in my chair and read a book and drink coffee. My plan to have my home to myself where I can walk around pantless and drink wine without being watched," I rub my forehead in exasperation. "Thanks to you, I have two guys I barely know living with me, one of which has stolen my seat. This is not cool, Francis. I expect the same number of cookies for the next week the rectify your traitorous ways." I don't give her a chance to respond when I turn and make my way to the bookshelf and pick

out a short story to read while we drink our coffee before going on more adventures Eli has planned for the day. I walk back to where Eli lounges, watching my every move. I move to stand right next to his knees, raise my left eyebrow at him which earns me a smirk, before twirling around and falling backwards, putting all my weight into the fall. Eli grunts when I land, his air expelling from of him with an oomph. I snigger whilst getting myself comfy, wriggling around on his lap before leaning my back into his chest. His face is surrounded by my wavy locks, so when he speaks, it comes out muffled. "Okay, I didn't think you were actually going to sit on me. Or, rather, fall on me." “You should always expect the unexpected,” I mutter the loaded statement while I shrug my shoulder with a smile he can’t see and decide to ignore my now breathing and talking chair. Surprisingly enough, Eli's lap is almost just as comfortable, so I settle in and open my book. "Here's your coffees," comes from Ms.

Frenchie, who deposits our mugs down on the little coffee table. There's more amusement in her words, but she stifles her questions when she sees me perched on top of Eli and meanders off to attend to the other customers milling around the store. I feel Eli shuffle beneath me for a moment before he settles. A gentle hand comes up to my neck as he sweeps my purple waves off my shoulder. His head leans down until he's resting his chin on my shoulder and his arms wrap snugly around my waist. Despite my bravado earlier about this milehigh wall of mine, I feel a sudden crack in the cement when Eli tightens his hold on me, and we both settle into my stolen chair. We sit like that for the entire time we're there, and I realize he's reading along with me when he chuckles at the funny parts and snorts at the romantic, or "cheesy" as he grumbled under his breath at some point, parts of the novella. Ignoring the warning bells telling me I shouldn't feel this comfortable and content with him, that I should be weary because of his reason

for being here, we spend our visit at Frenchie’s with him holding me in his lap while we both read and drink our coffee. I've never felt more relaxed, other than when I was in Asher’s arms. I've never felt more at home.

Eli Spending just over two hours with Lunas finely sculpted ass pressing into my groin has been nothing short of torture. With every wriggle of hers to get comfy, the harder my dick gets under my all too tight jeans. Regretting putting on my tight black jeans today, I stifle another groan when Luna's ass shifts in my lap again. "Did you not like the book? I thought you were enjoying it? You can't deny it, either, because you laughed at the part where she got her foot stuck in the toilet bowl." There’s confusion in her tone. She's finished the book? I won't lie and say I haven't been distracted for the latter end of the story, so I've no idea what the fuck happened at the end. I'd been enjoying the book, but I'd been enjoying her ass rubbing against my now aching dick more, even if it was torture.

"My bad. I lost focus at the end there," I tell her, biting my lip to stop another groan from escaping when she brushes against me just right. I need her to move, or I'll be no better than my brother, and blow my load right here in the coffee shop if she continues. I tap the side of her distractingly bare thigh where her dress has ridden up and displays a collection of beautifully designed tattoos, all black and white. One is a gypsy girl surrounded by flowers and skulls. Attached to that is an incredibly realistic looking wolf. Her arms are filled with the same types of tattoos, but with her plump rear end pressing into my groin, I'm still struggling to think with the head that contains my brain. "Come on, let’s go. We've got shit to do, things to see," I promptly tell her, gently nudging her off my lap. "I'll move if..." she trails off, shaking her head and making to move off of where she's sat. "If what?" I question, intrigued as to where she was heading with that sentence. I mean, she can't start a sentence like that and not finish it.

That's a whole new brand of torture. I'll be thinking about it all day. She hesitates but must decide to keep whatever it was she was going to say to herself. Before I can stop her, she's out of my lap and walking away, while I continue to sit here like a dummy. I jump out of the chair and am walking behind her in a matter of seconds thanks to my long legs. As we walk through the throngs of people lounging around sipping their drinks, Luna calls out across the room unabashedly, "Francis, we're off on an adventure!" I'm fairly impressed with her faux English accent, but it's quickly forgotten with her next outburst. "If you don't see me tomorrow, I'm being held hostage against my will in Switzerland. Be sure to inform the police! In a while, crocodile!" When I receive a few unnerving glances, I feel obligated to clear things up, "I, too, will be kidnapped and awaiting rescuing. Don't forget me!" With a few sniggers, and some internal face palming, I hustle Lunas ass out of the store and guide her to her car whilst complaining, "I'm going

to have to bring you back here tomorrow just to make sure anyone returning who just witnessed that knows I didn't steal you away and lock you up in Switzerland. Fucking Switzerland. Where did you even come up with that?" She shrugs her shoulder non-committedly and says, "Dunno. First thing that came to mind." I shake my head whilst we make out way to the car that any guy in their right mind would drool over, and we settle ourselves inside, my body infuriatingly folding into the passenger side, and not the driver's seat like it wants. Just as Luna pulls her keys out from her bra, I snatch them out of her hand which causes her to turn sharply and narrow her eyes at me. Cute, angry kitten. "Give them back, Eli. I told you you're not driving my car," she demands, holding her hand out for me to return her keys. I smile at her stern attempt before telling her, "I'll give them back once you tell me what it was you were going to say in the coffee shop." She narrows those light grey eyes at me

before lunging for the keys which I pull out of the way. She doesn't get far seeing as though she already strapped herself in with the seatbelt. With a fierce growl, she falls back into her seat, crosses her arms and stares out of the front window. We sit like that for a while, with her pouting adorably whilst she glares daggers at whatever she's staring at and me just sitting her silently, waiting for her to say something. She sighs in defeat when more time passes, slowly coming to the realization that I'm probably as stubborn as her, or more so. "Fine. I.." She pauses before inhaling a deep breath and then turning to face me again but looking down at her hands she's started picking at. "Don't make it a big deal, okay? But I was going to ask, can we read together again? Not necessarily with me sitting on top of you but just... together. You don't have to, but it was, I don't know, nice?" She braves looking at me, her face open and a vulnerability I've never seen before a shining beacon in her eyes. She's shocked me, because that's the last thing I'd expect her to ask of me. It's

like she knows what to say to intrigue me more and more. Not sure how to proceed, I opt for my usual humor deflective tactic. My face forms a bemused smile at her confession, "You want me to read with you again? Flower, that's adorable." Her eyes narrow on me again, and she throws herself around to face the front one more, her cheeks tainting a soft shade of pink, embarrassment evident in her growing blush. "You're a dick. Forget I said anything. You suck balls as a reading buddy anyway." "Flower..." I wait for her to give me her attention, but she ignores me. Faintly, I start to hear a soft melody dancing in the air around us and I quickly come to the realization that she's started humming under her breath. Panic is a sudden emotion thrust upon me given that I partly know the kind of power that comes with her singing. "Luna," I try again, my voice an annoyingly higher pitch that before, betraying my sudden bout of anxiety. "Luna, look at me." My pleading almost falls on deaf ears until I squeak, "Please."

The humming comes to a sudden stop, and my slightly accelerated heartbeat slows down to a somewhat normal pace. With another sigh from her, she turns her head and looks directly at me. "I wasn't making fun of you. It was genuinely adorable," she features harden and the beginning of a scowl appears on her face, so I quickly press on, "something I realize I shouldn't have described it as if the narrowed eyes are anything to go by. What I'm getting at is, yes, I'll read with you again. Just promise not to make me blow my load in the middle of a crowd, okay? Damn near shit myself with the humming alone." I'm a little breathless once I finish what I'd wanted to say due to how fast it all spilled out of my mouth, but I seem to appease her when she murmurs "Okay" with a smirk she poorly tries to hide. "Now that we've cleared that up, let's get to that adventure, shall we?" I quip, ready to get on with the day. "Yeah, sure. Where to?" she asks curiously whilst I hand her kidnapped keys back to her. She

puts them in the ignition and starts the car. I decide the mall would be a good place to start, absolutely zero logic to my thinking but a reasonable decision seeing as though I could do with a few more pairs of jeans that won't suffocate my dick anytime I get a hard on, I declare, "To the mall, squire!" With a groan and huff of a laugh, she pulls away from the curb and to the mall we go. *** We arrive back at Lunas apartment loaded down with bags. Climbing five sets of stairs would be considered a different form of hell when my arms are filled with bags from various stores we visited at the mall. It became glaringly obvious pretty early into our shopping spree that Luna was a walking cliché when it comes to girls and shopping. We'd found ourselves in almost every single store in the giant building that was the mall. We'd found ourselves in three different bookstores, Luna looking for a

specific book she'd been in search of for a while by the sounds of things. We'd gone to every clothing store that suited Luna's taste, any snack food joint that had donuts, ice cream or stupidly sized pretzels. In short, the regret at suggesting, or rather demanding, to go to the mall was strong, but seeing Luna grin at something she found and liked made it somewhat worth it. We make it up the stairs, breathless and coated in a light sheen of sweat. When we reach the front door to Lunas apartment, I drop everything I'd been holding and lean against the wall whilst Luna searches her purse for her key. "I'm never going to the mall with you again. I'm fucking exhausted," I halfheartedly grumble, leaning my head back on the wall to stare at the ceiling. "It was your idea. I won't be held responsible for your stupid ideas when you don't know the full extent of what you've asked for," she smugly retorts. She's still searching her bag for the key, so I offer a suggestion, "Your bra, Flower. Check your

bra." Low and behold, after a little fumbling and distracting boob jiggling, she pulls out her door key with a snort. I shake my head and huff out a laugh and bend to pick the discarded bags off the floor. We hobble our way into the apartment and drop everything by the door. "Where the shit am I going to put everything?" Luna queries after shutting the door and stares comically at the number of bags we've abandoned on the floor, as though she's only now realizing she has to find homes for everything she bought today. "Beats me, but good luck with that," I tell her before abandoning the bags and her and head in search of my brother. I make it to the guest room, our room, and find him on the phone. I quietly move a step further into the room and wait by the door while he finishes his conversation. "…still working on it. Yeah, boss. No, it won't be an issue. Alright." And with that, I know who he was talking to and what it was regarding. Asher puts the phone down and scrubs his

hands aggressively over his face before looking at me. "Don't have to tell you who that was and what he was calling for," he tells me, his mood somber. He's right. I know why Lucifer is calling, and a pit of dread forms in the pit of my stomach. He's wanting an update on Luna and her stance on the whole Heaven or Hell bullshit. Sadly for us, we haven't gotten anywhere with convincing the headstrong, fierce little kitten other than convincing her to let us stay with her. The dread slowly works up to my chest when I think about deceiving her, an unsettling feeling spreading under my skin, needling away at me. The thought of trying to pull her to our side causes an unpleasant shudder to run up my spine and it doesn't take a genius to figure out why. I like her. After partially stalking her to get a feel for her routine, our initial meeting and spending time with her today, I've come to realize that there's so much more to this Angel we were sent for. She's nothing like I'd expected to find; fierce and sassy, stubborn, quirky and a mouth that'll put any

Hellspawn to shame. Yet, she's also sweet and considerate, loyal and, on the rare occasion like today, vulnerable. In the short amount of time I've known her, I've been drawn to her and witnessed her personality first hand. It's addictive. "We'll talk about it later, bro. Come on, come get a drink," I quietly respond to Asher, heading out of the door instead of waiting for him. When I reach the living room, I notice the bags have been moved, some littering the couch and floor around the coffee table, and others resting on the kitchen counters and island. Asher emerges from our room and comes to a sudden halt when his eyes land on the mess of plastic and paper. "Did you go shopping?" his question is asked with raised eyebrows. Luna is sitting on the floor in front of the television where more bags lay strewn around and mumbles distractedly, "I see you have a keen eye for obvious observations. What gave it away? The million fucking bags..." she tapers off before she agitatedly complains, "where the hell is it?"

Asher and I look at one another before looking back at the Angel rummaging through the plethora of bags around her. With a triumphant, "Ah-ha! There you are, you little fucker," that has me snorting, she lifts the bag and stands, zigzagging her way to Asher and holds the offending item to him. "Here. For you." She drops the bag in Asher’s slowly extending hands, turns and goes back to rummaging through the bags. She finds the next one she was looking for quicker than the last, makes her way back to me, and holds the bad out for me to take. "And this is for you." The moment it's in my hands, she's twirling around and heading back to the spot on the floor that she's vacated. Asher and I look at one another in confusion before we both look at the bags in our hands at the same time. She got us... gifts?

Luna Doing my best to ignore the two Angels standing in my living room, feeling a little uncomfortable but not enough to regret buying them gifts, I start sorting through the rest of my purchases, pulling out books, blue rays and other assortment of items. I'm watching the two in my peripheral, but they do nothing but stare at the bags I handed them in nothing short of bewilderment. "Are you going to open them, or just stare like they're plotting your demise?" I ask without looking at them, pulling out a small hand carved jewelry box, delicate flowers and swirls patterned into the wood. Eli is the first to end his staring competition with the bag, and tears into it. I've no idea why I bought them gifts, but when we arrived at one of my favorite stores and I spotted the items hidden in

the bags they hold, I couldn't help myself. It was like a compulsion demanded I buy them. Sitting down onto the couch, Eli throws the plastic bag on the floor and looks at the two boxes on his lap. I finally look up to see him opt to open the largest first. He opens it in a hurry, and inside is a replica of my car. It's a mint condition 1968 Dodge Challenger, never opened from its box since it was made the same year as my baby. It even has a key, which I'll admit, I got a kick out of. The next box is smaller, and when he opens it, it's to find a silver guitar pick pendant attached to long chain. He pulls the necklace out and flips it over. Inscribed on the back is 'don't fucking lose me'. His laughter has a grin forming on my face. While we were shopping, he'd mentioned he plays guitar as well as sings for his band. He'd commented that he's always losing his picks. Shortly after, I spotted the necklace and had it inscribed with pretty sound advice. Asher finally decides his gift isn't going to bite him when he moves to the other couch and slowly reveals his gifts. The gifts inside the bag

aren't boxed like Eli's, so when he pulls them out of the bag, he sees the new leather jacket and vinyl immediately. His eyes flicker to mine once he's unfolded the black, real leather hooded jacket, sliding the vinyl to the side for a moment, so I explain the gesture. "Your other one is looking a little worn down, so I thought you could do with one that didn't look like it was going to fall to pieces with one wrong move. I don't think I need to explain the second gift." His eyes hold mine a moment longer, causing me to bite into my cheek to suppress the smile I'm wanting to give into. He looks away and down to the vinyl. When he sees the signed Chris Isaak's Heart Shaped World album, one of the first ever made, he groans, facepalms and growls, "For fucks sake", immediately catching on to the reference. I can't hold in the laughter when he speaks into his hand, "Never going to live that shit down". When my laughter slowly dies down, the room goes quiet. Feeling awkward about gifting

them things when I barely know them, I decide to downplay the magnitude of the gifts, keeping the sentimental value to myself. "Anyway, hope you like them. I'll be upstairs if you need me." My arms are suddenly loaded with all the bags that contain clothes and lingerie, my heart pounding a little faster than normal. I'm out of the room and up the stairs before either guy can say anything, and hide myself away in my room. I drop the bags onto my bed, and sit on the floor, leaning my head back onto the soft duvet that covers the mattress. Now would be the perfect time to admit that was the first time I've ever given a gift to someone. Ms. Frenchie and I have never celebrated any holidays because she simply doesn't believe in them, so we've never done the whole gift exchange thing. "And you just ran away like chicken shit after popping your gift giving cherry," I grumble quietly to myself, face palming myself with an audible smack. Feeling vulnerable isn't something I allow to

happen often, but in a matter of a few days, I've been more vulnerable than I ever have in my long existence, since my Fall. For some reason, I simply can't help it. Despite every warning bell blaring inside my skull, I find myself thinking about them constantly, seeing things that already remind me of them. How is that even possible when I've known them for all of three days? Better yet, how is it possible when I know they're only here to aid in Lucifer's quest to get me on his side? I can't afford to soften around them, to constantly display vulnerability I've gone centuries without showing anyone. And I certainly shouldn't be thinking about them enough to find gifts that remind me of them. If they're here to lure me towards Hell, what in the ever-loving fuck am I doing giving them presents? I've never claimed to be the sharpest tool in the box, but that simply takes the cake. I don't understand what's going on with me and why I'm doing things I quite clearly know to be a bad idea. I mean, when a kidnapper throws someone over their shoulder and carries them away to the unknown,

they don't just hang there like dead weight, just going with the flow, so what am I doing? With an internal groan, I decide to build my walls around myself higher. I'll enjoy they're company while they're here and listen to them when they decide on when to pitch me their speeches about Lucifer and his squad and then politely decline and send them on their merry way. Simple enough, right? As soon as I make my mind up, there's a soft knock at my door. Before I can invite whichever of the guys stands behind the door, Eli is popping his head in, his eyes darting low to mine seeing as though I'm still sitting on the floor. I scurry up off the carpet until I'm standing awkwardly in front of him. I don't do awkward, so the uncomfortable feeling makes me fidget. Something I never used to do until these two jackasses barged into my life. "Hey. What's up?" I ask Eli, who watches me by the door for a moment. I'm tangling my fingers together and shuffling my feet from side to side, my fidgeting getting worse the more he stares.

But then he's striding into my room and doesn't stop until he's as close as he can possibly get and throws his limber arms around me in a tight hug. I freeze on the spot like I did the last time he surprised me with the unexpected affection, my arms stiffly lying at my sides. He isn't deterred at all by my statue like form and pulls me tighter to him. I stumble a little which causes my arms to shoot up reflexively at his sides. When he squeezes his arms a little, I wrap my arms tentatively around him in return. The moment my arms are around him, I feel my entire body relax and sink into his. "Thank you so much, Flower," he whispers with his cheek resting on my head. "Hmm?" I ask, basking in the feel of him wrapped around me, relishing the feel of comfort and unusual familiarity I feel in his hold. Butterflies form in my stomach when I feel him press the softest kiss to the top of my head. He chuckles softly with his lips still pressed to my head, before quietly admitting, "That's the first time someone's given us something." I freeze for a second time. They...they've

never received gifts before? Although Ms. Frenchie doesn't believe in gift giving, I've gotten enough cookies off her that I understand the feeling of receiving something new. Have they really not been given anything before now? With that little bit of information, I feel the cracks already appear in my newly constructed walls. I should really build those bastards with titanium or something. I must have asked the question out loud, however, when Eli answers, "Not without having to give something in return. We've never had a gift freely given to us since He gave us ours, but even then, we didn't have the capacity to appreciate them back then." The room settles into silence, my mind reeling that I'd been the first person to give them something without wanting something from them. Is that what Hell entails? Being given something but then expected to return the favor? That would have settled my decision on a big ‘No, thank you’ to Hell had I not already been adamant that I'd remain on Earth. "Anyway, thank you, Luna." His gratitude is

evident in his words and I give him a squeeze before we separate. He gives me a blinding smile, heart melting dimples and everything, before saying, "So, want to order food? The hike up the stairs burnt off the junk we ate earlier, and I could do with a food coma right about now. How about it?" I pretend to think on it for a moment, grateful for the change of topic so I don't have to pay attention to the ever-growing cracks in my imaginary walls and tap my thumb on chin. "Alright, fine. But I get to choose where we order from." And then I'm strolling out of the room, leaving Eli standing in my room with a mixture of shock and awe on his face. Before I'm fully out of the door, I hear him mumble, "Why do I feel like I just got played?" I make my way down the stairs with a stupid grin on my face and head to my cell phone that lays abandoned in my purse on the coffee table. I fish it out of its confines and call my favorite Chinese restaurant, ordering enough food for a village instead of three people.

Just as I place the phone down, Asher comes out of his room wearing his new jacket with a slight smile on his face. He hasn't noticed me standing in the living room seeing as he seems incredibly engrossed in reading the other songs that are on the back of the vinyl case. I must make a noise of some sort, because his head shoots up and his piercing blue eyes bore into mine, the smile falling from his face. I'm still smiling like an idiot, even when his gaze becomes so intense that those pesky butterflies start up again, because he's walking around in the jacket I bought him like it's the best thing since sliced bread. "I see you like your stuff." I let out a laugh when he tries to hide the vinyl behind his back as though I hadn't already seen it. I decide to save him embarrassment and move to the blue-rays to pick out a movie to watch while we eat. As I'm browsing, I feel more than I hear Asher behind me. That man may walk like he's as light as a feather, but I've quickly become accustomed to the change of the air when he's around. Yet another unfamiliar thing, but something I'm already used to. How I’m

so used to it already is anyone’s guess. I’m just rolling with it now. Just as I'm about to reach for a selection of movies to choose from, Asher leans his head down so his mouth brushes my ear and gravelly whispers, "Thank you, peaches." He gives me a swift kiss to the cheek that leaves me stunned for a moment, because he kissed me...again…and then leaves to walk towards my vinyl player. Eli barrels into the room, shaking me out of my stupor. "I'm starving!" he announces, dramatically falling onto the couch with a huff. I smile over at him and tell him, "I've already ordered. Shouldn't be long until it arrives. The restaurant is only down the road." He gives me a dimpled grin that has my insides melting into a puddle, so I distract myself my snatching the movies I'd decided on from their shelves. I spread them on the table and head to the couch, falling with the same amount of dramatic flair as Eli, who laughs when I land with an oomph. Suddenly, the voice of Chris Issak is playing

in the air, the beginning of Wicked Game flowing from the vinyl player. Just as I'm about to open my mouth to sing along, both Asher and Eli yell "Don't do it!" and I'm left to deflate like a balloon when the air leaves me in a rush and I laugh at their newly formed paranoia. What I don't do is tell them that my power doesn't release any time I sing, I have to allow it to flow into the lyrics or melody. It won’t be something I reveal any time soon. Better to keep them on their toes. After a little while, there's a knock at the door and Asher calls out that he'll get the door. Minutes later he brings in our food and all three of us spend the evening pigging out on too much food and a night filled with action and horror movies.

Asher Once again, I find myself lying awake in bed unable to fall asleep. Only this time, Eli is lying awake staring at the ceiling just as I'm doing. "I don't think I can do it, bro. She's nothing like we were made to believe. We were told she'd be easily swayed, timid and easily influenced. I don't know who fuck they were talking about, but it sure as shit isn't our Fallen Angel." My heart stutters briefly before picking up its original pace when Eli calls her ours. I'm not sure if he meant it as in our 'mission' or ours, but it does something weird to my chest that I can't decide if I like or not. Eli continues when I don't say anything, "She's different, man. Underneath the tough, badass exterior there's a vulnerable woman who has a soft side that runs deep. I mean... she got us presents,

Ash. Without demanding anything for them or wanting something from us." He pulls himself up to a sitting position, and looks over at me, his face pinched with worry and doubt. His hair is ruffled from the amount of times he's ran his hand through the red strands in agitation. He's feeling the exact same as me, questioning our reason for being on Earth and whether we can go through with it. Especially if it means hurting Luna in the process. "I like her, bro. I really don't think I can do it. It feels wrong even trying to bring up why she even chose Earth, let alone trying to shove a sales pitch on why she should reconsider and choose Hell in her face." His eyes turn pleading before he rubs his hands over his face with uncertainty. It's quiet in the room for a moment before I quietly admitting, "I know. I feel the same." His eyes snap up to me and the briefest flicker of hope flashes in his eyes before it's gone as quick as it came. "What do we do?" I ponder on it for a while, trying to come up with a solution that won't result in Luna hurt and

hating us. An uncomfortable tug in my chest makes an appearance at the thought that we'd hurt her so much that she'd despise us. My hand reaches up to my chest where the feeling spreads the longer I think on it, and I subconsciously rub my palm over where my heart lays. Coming up with the only idea I can think of to buy us time before Lucifer himself calls me again seeking updates, I share it with Eli who listens intently. "We'll half ass it. We'll give it a go but make a poor attempt it. At least we can say that we'd tried if Lucifer asks. If she still says no, then we'll tell him we'd tried everything, and her answer was the same and then we'll leave. We'll go back to home." His nodding in agreement stops when the last sentence leaves my mouth, and I can feel it souring on my tongue the moment it was spoken. His expression tells me more than words could how much he doesn't like the idea of leaving her, matching my inner thoughts. It's quiet in the room for some time after, so much time passes that I think Eli had finally fallen

asleep, until he whispers dejectedly, "I don't want to leave her." It's worrying how in sync with our thoughts we are considering he's my polar opposite, but I can't deny that I feel the same. The tugging in my chest becomes a tightening and I rub it a little harder to ease the ache. "I know, and I'm pretty sure I don't either. But if we don't accomplish what we came here to do, then we'll have to go home. We can't stay here. Lucifer won't allow it." I inhale deeply. That dickhole will never allow us to stay, especially considering we're the strongest Angels he has on his side. "This is bullshit. We left to have freedom, but Lucifer calls the shots. We answer to him. It's fucking ridiculous." Eli’s voice is low but vehement, the most serious I've heard him in a long while. I can't say that I blame him either. We were promised freedom, a life that was ours to control, but instead, found ourselves in the clutches of Lucifer, the only Angel stronger than us. His word is final, and we'd be fools not to do as we're told if the littered bodies of our dead brothers and sisters –

who thought to challenge Lucifer - that he keeps in a dank pit in Hell to keep us all in line is anything to go off of. "It is bullshit, brother. But we'll have to go home, regardless. It's how it is." Quietly, almost a whisper, I hear him say, "I already feel like I'm home," before he turns over in his bed and faces the wall. Little does he know, so do I. Just as I get comfortable and settled in bed, the whimpering and crying starts. "What the fuck was that?" Eli asks, suddenly wide awake. Another cry from upstairs has Eli throwing the blankets off himself and clumsily shooting out of bed, getting tangled in the sheets. He's out of the door in only his boxers before I can explain anything to him. I'm not too far behind, my grey sweatpants hanging low on my hips. Eli is standing in Luna’s doorway very much like I had the night before, watching her, looking for the invisible something that's causing her to cry out like she is. When he doesn't find

anything, he turns to me and whispers, "What the hell?" Knowing she won't wake up because of how far deep into the dream she is, I keep my voice low but loud enough to be heard. "She's having a nightmare. Seems as though it happens nightly. She had a nightmare last night, that's why I was in here this morning. I'd stayed with her all night after I left her dream and she wouldn't let me leave, albeit subconsciously." "You used your Dream Jumping gift? What the fuck is she dreaming about that's making her sound like she's being skinned alive?" he whispershouts, anger evident on his face. I answer simply, giving nothing more than the bare basics. He's a smart guy, he can work it out without me spelling it out for him. "The aftermath of her Fall." His mouth falls open in shock and clear understanding dawns on him immediately, his face becoming pained for Luna, who's laying in the same fetal position she'd been in when I found her last night. The same cries and anguish pour from her,

pleading for the pain to stop. Eli's hands clench into fists at the body wracking sobs that overtakes her, and he turns back to me and demands, "Make it stop, man." "Planned on it." I step around him and kneel next to the bed, repeating what I'd done the night before, blowing a ice cool breath of my power over her face before settling on the floor next to it. I've no idea what Eli does with himself when I'm sucked into the exact same dream that's been haunting me since last night. Instead of looking around at my surroundings, I spot Luna immediately and head over to her. She hears the gravel under my feet, and croaks, "Asher?" A pained scream breaks out of her, hitting me square in the chest so hard my knees almost buckle, "Yeah, peaches. Me again. Just try to relax, okay? I'm here." I reassure her over and over again, stroking her hair from her face and smoothing my large hand over her dirt covered face. Just with the simple touches, she visible calms down, biting into her lip

when the pain strikes again, or sobbing and shoving her face into my thigh to muffle a scream when it gets the magnitude of the pain grows. Through the entire thing, I stroke her hair, whisper that I'm with her and she'll be okay. She's the strongest Angel I know. She goes through this shit every fucking night, reliving the horror over and over again, yet she's still sane enough to cause me to jizz in a coffee shop full of fucking people. A damn warrior, this woman is. I tell her as much while I'm calming her and receive a laugh that quickly turned into a pained groan when her back moves even a fraction of an inch. We stay that way until I hear her sigh softly and her dream begins to flicker, indicating that she's falling back into a dreamless sleep. Before she fully drifts off, she squeezes my hand and the next thing I know it, I'm back in Lunas room. "That happens every night?" Eli asks quietly from where he sits on the edge of her bed, not too far from where Luna has curled her body around my head again. "Happened last night and tonight. Only

reasonable to assume it's a nightly thing. And if that's the case, she's been going through that shit over and over since she fell. Fucking Millenia." I shake my head in anger and hurt for the woman softly stroking her thumb over my rapid paced pulse even though she has no clue she’s doing so. Eli whispers, "Fuck me," under his breath before looking over at Luna wo shuffles a little closer to my head. She did the exact same thing last night, moving closer and closer until she almost fell out of the damn thing, so I do what I did then. I lift myself off the floor and pick her up, moving us onto her bed where she wraps around me like a damn spider monkey. She instantly settles when my tattooed arm wraps around her back and secures her to my body. "That's fucking adorable, bro," Eli says with a soft smile, still watching Luna as she sleeps soundly, a soft sigh leaving her parted lips. "Mind if I jump in there with you guys?" With a shake of my head, he smoothly slides into the giant princess bed, careful not to jostle it too much. He settles in on Luna's side and

tucks an arm around her waist, ignoring mine that wraps around her shoulders. We lie in silence for a little while, Luna's soft snoring filling the room while my thoughts run ragged. It's not too long later when Eli whispers, "I'm not doing it, Ash. She suffers enough after deciding not to choose at all. I'm not going to be the one to convince her to uproot the life she's made here for fuck knows how long, and to choose a side she wanted no part of in the first place. I can't do that to her. Her suffering will be worth nothing if I did." I agree with every single word, the same thoughts plaguing me since last night when I endured her torture with her for the first time. Seeing it a second was the proverbial nail in the coffin. "You're right, brother." My mind wanders, thinking up plans and ways to get out of the mission we'd accepted. I think of every scenario, everything that would go wrong and every result that had the potential to become a reality. Suddenly, a plan forms. It's not an

airtight plan, but it's definitely something to work on. The plan becomes clearer the more I think on it, and with one glance at my brother lying on his side, tucked around Luna's body and her soft curves suctioned to me, the more I decide the risk will be worth it if I can execute the plan the way I think it'll go. "I've got a plan, but it needs a shit load of work. You in?" I whisper the question, determination leaking into the words. "Didn't need to ask, bro. I'm in. I've got your back like you've got mine." With that settled, I slowly start to fall asleep until a sleepy, "In a while, crocodile," falls from Luna's lips. I breathe out a short chuckle, surprising myself and Eli, who pokes his head up around Luna's and whispers with surprise, "Did you just laugh?" "Shut the fuck up and go to sleep," I growl, shoving my free hand into his face and pushing it into the pillow. He snorts before settling down, and before I

know it, sleep wins out and I'm falling head first into blissful unconsciousness.

Luna I'm being suffocated by warmth. Is that a thing? Surely it is, because I feel like I'm melting, and I have no idea why. Am I still in bed? Have I suddenly taken up sleepwalking and found myself in a sauna? Not that it would surprise me considering all the changes that seem to be happening around me. Opening my eyes groggily, I'm met with a solid chest, tattoos on the left side and bare on the right. Asher is in my bed again? And then my brief memory loss dissipates, and I remember him Dream Jumping and comforting me again. How does he keep ending up in my bed though? I start wriggling to save myself front the insane heat I'm trapped in, wondering how Asher is giving off so much warmth, when a grunt from behind me sounds out when my ass connects with a

rock-solid boner. If Asher is in front of me, that has to mean… "Flower, it's not right to do that to a man when he's already struggling with self-control," comes Eli's sexy sleep ridden voice from directly behind my ear. What is happening right now? I went to bed alone and wake up to not one seriously smoking hot guy lying in bed with me but two. I could still be sleeping, but the iron hard rod that's digging into my left ass cheek is telling me I'm wide awake. I whisper, "Could I be hallucinating?" and don't expect an answer, but Asher gives me one instead, surprising me because I had no idea he was awake, too. "No, peaches. You're awake and talking too early in the morning." One eye flicks open and I think I see his mouth twitch with a suppressed laugh when he catches me wide eyed expression. He closes his eye again and ignores me, opting to sleep some more. Seeing as though Asher won't be answering my questions as to how I came to find myself

overheating in a seriously hot as hell man sandwich, I awkwardly roll over, making sure to shove my ass out enough that I jostle Asher as I turn. I'm snickering into my hand when he growls and grabs a hold of my hip so stop me from moving further. When my giggles stop and the bed stops shaking from my silent vibrating, I lift my head up to see Eli already watching me with a cute half smile on his face, a single dimple winking at me from the right of his mouth. Not one to mince words, I ask, "Not that I'm opposed to a snuggle buddy, or buddies, in this case, but would you care to explain why you and Ash are in my bed?" "You were having a nightmare, and I panicked and ran up here. Asher stayed to help you, so I stayed, too." And then I'm rewarded with a cheesy grin and a look that resembles a puppy that did something good and expects a treat for it. "Well, I appreciate that, but you two are kind of overcooking me. What are you guys even made of? Fucking furnaces?" I ask, trying to wriggle some more to get some breathing room. All

I manage is shuffling closer toward one furnace with mussed up red hair, and away from the other with tinted blue locks. How has this become my life in such a short amount of time? When I shuffle closer by accident in my attempt to get comfortable, his shaft brushes my leg and I'm made all too aware that the prime piece of perfection is only in his boxers. Something I don't need in my already flustered state. "Your dick keeps touching me," I blurt with all the finesse of bull running through a china shop. "He's happy in the mornings. Give him a break," Eli's quick to reply, which causes me to bite my lip to stop the sound of my laughter pouring from me. A futile attempt when my body literally shakes the bed again with my suppressed laughter. Apparently, my ability to turn the bed into a giant vibrator doesn't sit well with Asher the Angry Angel, so he flings the duvet off all of us and sits up in bed. What he wasn't expecting was my barely there panties and cropped t-shirt. His eyes widen a fraction before undeniable lust darkens them to the color of the ocean under a night sky.

"Killing me, here," Eli groans from right in front of me. Oh yeah, I'm practically glued to his front. How that slipped my mind is beyond me, but my focus is now very much on the man in front of me with tented boxers. When he looks down at me, his eyes are shining with both equal parts amusement and desire and I'll be damned again if that doesn't do something funny to my body. I can't stop staring at him, even when I feel Asher getting out of the bed grumbling, "Can't sleep in because she wakes up at the ass crack of dawn and then she's wearing skimpy shit..." His voice trails off, but not once does my gaze star from Eli's humor filled eyes. The longer we stare at each other, the quicker the amusement dies and all that's left are the burning embers of lust heating his eyes. Suddenly I find myself on my back with Eli holding himself above me, keeping his weight on the delicious tattooed arms that lie next to my head. My breath hitches when his head dips a little closer, slowly and deliberately. Just as his breath fans my lips, my stupid

brain can't seem to help but cause my mouth to spew verbal diarrhea and I almost yell at him, "I kissed Asher yesterday morning." He leans back a little and simply looks at me. "Okay". And then he's moving those delicious looking lips closer to mine. As though my brain is functioned to make me blurt shit out at the most indecent of times, I spill, "That doesn't bother you? I mean, it was literally yesterday, when you barged" I'm effectively cut off when Eli slams his mouth onto mine. I can feel him smile on my lips when I stop talking, but it's quickly wiped away when I kiss him back harder. He growls into my mouth, goosebumps breaking out all over my skin. My hands take on a mind of their own, running slowly up his back an up further until their tangled in the loose hair at the top of his head. He kisses me senseless, tuning my bones to mush and all thoughts other than his body lying on mine fly swiftly out of the window. I know I shouldn't be engaging in a very pleasing game of

tonsil tennis with someone who's plotting to drag me to the Underworld but fuck it all to Hell in a handbasket. His kisses light me up from the inside out, so if Hell is where I land, I'll be pissed off afterwards. Eli doesn't seem to have any plans to go any further than turning me to Jell-O with his panty disintegrating kisses, so when he pulls back, both of us breathless and flushed, I feel like I'm having a second round of lady blue balls. "Now that's a way to wake up in the morning," the bastard says with a cheeky wink. If I still didn't want to ravage him there and then, I'd have scowled at him for leaving me hanging, but the stupid Angel makes it hard to be mad, especially with the fucking dimples that I'm starting to think he knows are my weakness. "I've no idea what you're thinking, but you're smiling and scowling at the same time and it's an unusual look to have after I thought I kissed you dumb." I outright laugh at the perplexed look on his face before gathering my wits about me about me

and shoving him off my body with one buck of my hips. He easily falls to the side and lies shamelessly sprawled across the bed, his body on display for me to have a good, long, thorough look at. He laughs when I stare at a certain good, long part of his body before I tell him to "shut up" and get out of bed. Just as I reach the door to my bathroom, I'm being picked up and thrown over a shoulder before I'm unceremoniously thrown back onto my bed. Eli throws me a shit eating grin before the bastard runs into my bathroom and locks himself inside. Dick. "Fine, not like I wanted a shower anyway. And it's not like you have a bathroom downstairs. Asshole!" I call through the door. I gather my things and get dressed quickly, freshening myself up as much as I can before leaving my room. I make it downstairs, head to the second bathroom and brush my teeth with a spare toothbrush from the stash I keep in the cupboard. As I'm leaving, an idea sparks in my brain. Funny man won't think it's so funny to mess with me in the morning. Softly, I begin to sing the lyrics

to Ciara's version of Paint It Black. I walk into the kitchen still humming, and Asher, who's sat in the same spot as yesterday morning, immediately flicks his widened eyes up at me in panic. He's around the island faster than I would have pegged someone with his muscle could move. I'm smiling while I sing, and just as Asher reaches me, I lift my hand and put it over his mouth. My free hand makes the universal sign for 'shut the fuck up', my index finger hovering over my lips. My singing gets a little louder and it's like understanding dawn on the beefy man in front of me. I move my hand from his mouth and we both turn to face my bedroom door from just outside of the kitchen, Asher throwing a thick arm over my shoulders while I wrap my arm around his waist like this is an ordinary, everyday occurrence. When we're comfortable where we stand, it's then I push my gift into the lyrics and watch my power infused with lust float to where I direct it, through the door to my room and then under the slight gaps under the bathroom door.

It's silent upstairs for a moment, and then a muffled hesitate "Luna?" is called from the upstairs. I keep singing, of course, and pretend I didn't hear him call my name. The next call is a little more haggard, the noises of things crashing into the floor and a distinct thud comes from the bathroom, "Luna?!" The fight to keep singing and not laugh is a tough one, but I push on, continuing with my song, effortlessly hitting every note perfectly while I push more power through the melody. Another crash and I hear the fumbled opening of the bathroom door, so I push even more power into the song. Everything is silent for a brief moment until I hear a noise that is like music to my ears and gets the attention of my vagina that's already suffering blue balls. They really need to make a term for those of us without actual balls. A repeated, "Fuck, fuck, fuck," comes, heh, first, each word getting more and more breathless until a glorious groan sounds from behind the closed door of my bedroom. I hear another thud, and I like to think it's Eli thumping his head on the

door when he realizes he really shouldn't fuck with someone who can make him blow his load any time she feels like the occasion calls for it. I sing the last chorus of the song with the full force of my power entwined, but when things sound like they're heating up again, I cut off midsentence. I hear more of a pained groan this time around and my grin is victorious. "What the fuck, Luna?!" Eli yells through the door, before swinging it open, a towel in his hand that covers his junk. I return his shit eating grin from earlier before smugly telling him, "You gave me blue balls and stole my shower. I've given you blue balls in return, and I'll collect on the shower thievery another time." He grinds out a long, "Fuuuuccck," before turning his back and walking back into the bathroom. I turn to Asher with my triumphant grin, and am left thoroughly breathless when I see the stunning grin he's sporting to match my own. When Eli calls down, "You gave that

asshole two, and now I'm walking with a hard on from hell!" Asher straight out laughs, and if my heart wasn't already beating furiously from the adrenaline and the rare smile Asher displayed, it would have beaten straight out of my chest with that laugh. If messing with his brother rewards me with that laugh, I'll do it as many times as I can before it gets old.

Luna I decide to visit the Tardis library, taking Noah up on his offer to spend my time there today. I stop in briefly at Frenchie's to get my coffee fix and then I head over to the library on foot, leaving my baby in the alleyway where I normally park her. The weather is nice today, so walking isn't a hardship. The sun is out, but it's not hot out, yet not cold enough to warrant a jacket either, so I'm plodding along in a black flowing chiffon dress with sleeves that hang around my biceps, leaving my shoulders bare. I've traded in my black Converse for a pair of tan colored ankle boots, and a wide brimmed hat to match sits atop of my head, my dark purple locks cascading in waves down my chest. I'm practically skipping as I walk down the same streets I'd jogged down when a big angry

Angel chased me what feels like weeks ago already but was only four days ago. Has it really been that little time? Holy shit. And yet the very same Angel and his brother won't leave my damn head. I take my time walking, the journey from Frenchie's to the library taking longer before with my languid stroll. The light breeze feels good on my exposed skin and I'm feeling good. That is until I reach the steps leading up to the library. Just as I get to the very first step, a bone chilling shiver trails up my spine, a very distinct feeling that I'm being watched settles over me like a wet blanket. I slow my pace, taking each step even slower. I subtly scan my surroundings as I go, checking all around me, but see nothing out of the ordinary. Still, the feeling never leaves. I search left and right, my guard up and my legs ready to bolt should I need to, but when I still come up empty, I hurry the rest of the way up the steps and let myself into the building. Another cold shiver runs up my spine and my heart thunders in my chest as though I've just ran a marathon.

The second the door loudly shuts, I turn and lean my back on it, taking a couple of deep, shuddering breaths, not sure why I still even try when this whole calm breathing shit never works for me. "Can I help you?" asks a voice without a body. I stand by the door with my eyebrows scrunched in confusion, not seeing where the voice came from, until a man stands from behind the front desk opposite where I stand. His blonde hair is so light it's almost white, reaching his shoulders in soft waves. He has an angular face, a chiseled jaw so sharp it could cut you like glass and the slightest dent in his chin. Light green eyes framed by long black lashes watch me impassively as I take him in. A straight, narrow nose sits just above a set of full lips that seem to be pulled down in disapproval. The man before me coughs to get my attention and I realize that's why he'd looked disapproving. I was staring. Something I find myself doing a lot of lately. "I asked if I could help you, so if you're done staring at me, maybe we could press on," he

repeats with a raised eyebrow, clearly not appreciating my appraisal of the stunning man who has a little bit of an attitude. I shake my head in attempt to clear it, and answer him with my own question. "Is Noah here?" His facial expression remains the same, a quickly becoming infuriating eyebrow raised high on his too-good-looking-for-an-asshole face. When he doesn't answer, just continues to give me a look of great condescension, I give him a 'well?' look and wait for his answer. Finally, after an awkward amount of pause time he grants me with a reply. "Who's asking?" I furrow my eyebrows and my mouth tugs up in a bemused smile. I take a look to my right, then to my left and then behind me before pointing at myself and obviously stating, "Uh... me. Who are you?" His cheeks grow a soft shade of pink, his face growing tight at his embarrassment and I can't help the mocking smile that makes its way on to my face. He coughs into his clenched fist before he snarks, "He's upstairs. I'll call him down now.”

He’s ignored my question asking his identity, so I press the matter, “Great. So, who are you?” “Devon Crowe.” His response is clipped, and his follow up sentence is nothing short of sounding bored. “You might want to move away from the door because you're obstructing the only point of entry." If he thinks his shitty attitude is going to affect me, he's in for a sure surprise. I can out snark the best of them. This guy, no matter how beautiful, will be no different. "Oh, I'm sorry," I exclaim in over exaggerated concern whilst placing my hand over my chest. "Am I blocking the door to the incredibly long line of the people wanting in the building? Shall I move in case they trample me in their haste to get in?" I sarcastically quip with faux worry before giving him a smirk and walking to the right of the room in search of the chair I claimed the last time I was here. "Asshole," I mutter under my breath none too quietly. "I heard that," he calls from behind the

desk. I give him an eye roll that he can't see and drawl, "It's not like I whispered. And it's not like I'm wrong." I don't get a response, so I notch it down as a victory and settle into my chair while I wait for Noah to make an appearance. It doesn't take long until I hear a smooth voice, like melted butter, tentatively call my name, "Luna?" I poke my head up from the back of the chair and grin at him whilst subtly checking out every inch of him. Why are all these Angels that are popping into my life so damn good-looking? I could stare at him all day. Standing in the archway of the room in thigh hugging jeans and a buttondown shirt, looking a lot more casual than the first time I met him, he looks good enough to eat. His small smile turns into a grin to match my own and it's like the sun rising from behind a stormy cloud. One guess who the fucking cloud is. My heart stutters when his smile almost literally lights up his face, his honey colored eyes sparkling in the light that's shining through the large windows.

"What are you doing here?" he questions, surprise in his tone. "I'm here for the chair," I deadpan, watching his face fall a little before he recovers and the smile comes back, though a little dimmer. "Noah, I'm kidding," I assure him with a laugh. "You said I was welcome, and although I'm not hiding from big scary men this time, I thought I'd stop by anyway." The bright smile returns, a soft blush kissing his cheeks. Normally cute and shy does nothing for me, because they usually run the opposite direction when they take a good look at me, but this man has me grinning when he does. His smiles making my chest tighten weirdly. Clearing my throat a little, I ask him, "so, what're you doing today? Day off?" He looks down at his clothes selfconsciously, as though the tightly fit grey shirt and black jeans didn't look seriously good on him, and shuffles his feet awkwardly. "Uh, yeah. I didn't have any plans, really." "Great, then you can spend the day with

me!" I gleefully respond, before jumping out of my comfy chair. If he’s not running away for me in terror, then I’m keeping him. Meanwhile, Devon has moved to the archway just behind Noah, a fierce scowl on his face, but seeing as though I'd like to think of myself as a nice person, I extend the invitation for him to bask in my presence, even though he seems like a grade A asswipe. "You're welcome to join us, too, if you'd like," I politely offer. He looks surprised for a split second, but his impassive mask is back in place in a blink. Then his asshole beacon shines bright when he says, "As much as I'd thoroughly enjoy wasting my day with whatever you have in mind, I need to watch the library. As you've noticed, only two people work here." Two people to take care of how many? I look around the room to really sell the point I make next. “Take care of the library? Oh, sure, because this place is just swarming with people.” “Okay, fine, I’d rather spend my time doing

anything other than spend any more time with you than I have already. Unlike Noah, it seems, I won’t follow you around like a lost puppy. I’d rather attempt to bathe a cat.” Uh, excuse him. "I take back my offer, in that case. I happen to very much like puppies, fuck you very much. Not so much pussies." I smirk at the double meaning behind that particular P word, and turn my attention to said 'lost puppy'. "And you're not looking so lost, really. Want to go see a movie or something?" Noah's looking between Devon and me, but I focus my attention on Noah, pretending as thought Devon the Dick, a newly formed yet incredibly accurate nickname, isn't glaring a hole into my face. "Sure, uh, yeah. Let me just get my wallet from upstairs." There's sudden tension in the room when Noah leaves to retrieve his things, the air becoming thick with an unordinary animosity, and not being one to back down, I face it head on.

"Taking a picture might last you longer, you know?" I retort once I'm fully facing the Angel who's still glaring. I blink a few times, my face as blank as his. When he doesn't respond, I push his buttons a little more, unable to help it. I'm like a kid in an elevator who just has to press every single button available. "You want to talk about that mighty big stick that's lodged up your ass? Maybe I should refer you to a specialist who's good at stick removals?" It's safe to say he looks less pleased with me than before, so, being the asshole that I am, I continue, because button pushing can be incredibly fun when done correctly. "If your face tightens anymore, you're going to look like you’re seconds away from shitting yourself. Maybe we should put that on a note for the specialist. That stick of yours might be clogging some holes that should not be clogged, if you know what I mean?" I tell him, no idea how I'm keeping a straight face when I want nothing more than to let my laugh loose of its tightly bound confines. He finally speaks, ending the reign of the

constipated angry face, "real mature for a fullygrown woman. It may not have occurred to you, but maybe I'm just a lot more resilient to whatever shit you're spewing around Noah and won't fall for your so called 'charm', and that bothers you." I snort so loud it echo's off the walls of the huge room, which causes me to outright laugh and the noises repeatedly sounding around us, getting fainter. Meanwhile, Devon rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, but not before I catch his lips twitch. Did they twitch? Or am I seeing things? Surely not. "I have literally zero charm, as you're likely quite aware. I do, however, have the ability to make people ejaculate while surrounded by people." I deadpan. I’ll never doubt shock factor again when he chokes on his inhale of breath, spluttering and turning a brilliant shade of red. While he's preoccupied with trying to breathe properly again, I walk closer to him, almost toe to toe, and bend close enough to his ear that he'll hear my whisper. "Just remember that next time you want to act like

an asshole. I don't even have to touch you to make you embarrass yourself when there's a hundred people watching. Now, have a nice day, Mr. Crowe." With a wink, I move around him and walk to the front door of the building and wait for Noah’s return. After a couple of minutes, he walks out of a door from behind the huge desk and smiles sheepishly at me. "Forgot where I put my wallet." With a smile, I tell him, "You're fine. Ready? We should get going before Devon recovers." "Recovers from what?" "I may or may not have induced a coughing fit. You don't need to know more than that." I quickly brush off his questioning look and dramatically swing my arm towards the door. "Shall we?" He looks back to where Devon is stood still hacking up a lung, and back to me before distractedly mumbling, "Sure," and opens the front door for me like the gentleman he is. As we step outside, I link my arm with his as he shoves his

hands in his pockets and we make out way down the steps in comfortable silence, only receiving a quick glance off Noah when my arm hooks around his. "Did you want to go to the movies, or did you have something else in mind?" I ask him once we reach the last step. "Movies sounds good. We'll decide what to watch when we're there. I can be bribed with popcorn to watch a chick flick, too, just so you have more options," he replies with a grin and a soft blush on his cheeks. However, before I can respond, a high pitched, bone chilling noise sounds out all around us. The air gets infinitely hotter and my once calm heartbeat picks up its pace, pounding so hard I'm almost positive it's going to crash its way out from under my rib cage. Noah and I immediately throw our hands over our ears, attempting to block our eardrums from the skull splitting noise. "What the fuck was that?" I try to yell over the sound, but my voice is drowned out by the unnatural pitch that's ringing in my ears despite my

efforts. My head becomes fuzzy, white specks fill my vision the longer the noise continues and before I almost lose consciousness, I hear Noah's worried shout, "LUNA!" Suddenly the wind is being knocked out of me and my back hits the floor when someone tackles me from the side and my head becomes all the more blurred.

Devon It takes me longer than I care to admit to control my coughing fit after the infuriating woman's revelation. It also took longer than I'd even like to think about for the hardness in my pants to go back to its original state after having Luna so close after her little confession, smelling her citrus scent mixed with spearmint in her breath. I'll be damned if it doesn't piss me off any more than she has. Granted, she's only retaliating because I can't seem to help act like miserable, stuck up asshole around her. But still, she has the uncanny ability to drive me damn near insane. And not just with the ridiculous shit that comes out of her mouth. When I was assigned this mission, I was not informed that the Angel I was sent to somewhat

retrieve would look like Luna. I was not prepared for her beauty, headstrong personality, or the way every cuss word rolls off her tongue like she was meant to speak them. And I hate that it affects me the way it does. I'm here for a mission, and a mission only. I haven’t been sent here to get hung up on a damn girl, one that drives me up the wall with only one conversation. Thankfully, Noah made me aware of who the Angel was before I met her, so I knew who she was the moment my eyes landed on her. I’d seen her before, when I was looking for the Fallen, but never would I have imagined it would actually be her. Just as I've gained the ability to breathe without needing to cough after every inhale, a sharp, ear ringing sounds pierce my eardrums. I slap my hands over my ears and run to the front desk, practically diving over the top of the wooden piece and reach the duffle bag I keep hidden underneath. Inside, I retrieve noise cancelling earbuds and pull them out of their packaging. From outside, through the shrill wail, I hear Luna's muffled voice yell, "What the fuck is that?!"

and I realize she and Noah are outside with no way to protect themselves from the noise. Shoving the buds quickly in my ears, I grab another two packets and I'm running through the door faster than the human eye could see. I reach the outside to see Luna swaying on her feet, her hands slipping from her head, looking like she's a blink away from passing out onto the pavement. Noah isn't too far from her, but not close enough to catch her if she falls. Before I can make an attempt to catch her before she catches a face full of concrete, movement to the left of me catches my eye, and what I see has my blood turning to ice, my entire body turning to stone and the realization that Lucifer has decided to play dirty. Standing at the end of the street are more than a dozen Hellspawn, all standing in a cluster, semi-hidden by the trees that are lined on either side of the road. Although they look like normal humans right now, I know what they're hiding. What look like your average human is actually a monster Satan himself created, ones with teeth as

sharp as a knife, in rows of two on the top and bottom of their large gaping mouths, sharp black nails and bloodshot yellow eyes. Their mouths, when attacking, will open abnormally large, their jaws snapping and becoming lax enough to garner more space for the number of teeth that lay inside. The shrill scream is used on their victims as a demobilizing tactic, causing enough pain that it renders their victim helpless and unconscious, allowing them to pray on them easily enough. No one, not even an Angel, can withstand a Hellspawn's scream. A fact proven when Noah falls to his knees in pain. "Noah!" I call for him loudly, and as soon as his eyes meet mine, I'm throwing a set of earbuds at him, hoping my aim doesn't fail me. My attention is pulled back to Luna when she visibly sways, and her grey eyes roll to the back of her head. Just before she falls, I notice the cluster of Hellspawn make their move. Without further thought, I'm racing towards Luna before they can reach her. I have no time for

a soft landing, so the moment I reach her, I barrel into her, tackling her at her waist and taking her down to the floor none too gently. I don't hesitate, however, tearing into the packaging for the other earbuds and shove them into her ears. She lets out a pained groan underneath me, her eyes closed tight. Giving her a shake of her shoulders, she groggily opens her eyes enough for me to mouth, "We have to go. Now." She proves her lip-reading skills are up to date when she nods her head slowly, still reeling from the pain and almost knock out, but stands, unsteady, with some help form yours truly. I look over to see Noah racing the short distance towards us, and I see the moment he realizes the danger we've found ourselves in. Hellspawn will kill any Angel that doesn't abide by Lucifer, which means Noah and I are as good as dead if they get within an inch of us. Luna, being a Fallen, has no side, which leads me to believe she's in just as much danger as us. Fuck. I look over toward the Hellspawn and see

they've gotten a lot closer than I'm comfortable with. A tug at the bottom of my shirt has me turning my attention to Luna, who's looking a lot more alert now. I'm distracted by the feel of her hand when it brushes my back above my shirt, just above my waistline, but I ignore the tingling trail her hand leaves through the material. Her eyes a have widened as far as they'll go and her grip on my shirt has tightened to the point that her knuckles are turning white from the strain. "What the fuck are those and why are they running towards us?" she says, my eyes watching her plump lips as she speaks each word clearly. When I look up, it's to see a lot more Hellspawn than I'd previously estimated. They've spread out as they run, creating a barrier at the end of the street to prevent us from making a sneaky escape passed them. A noise behind me has me turning and spotting another four of the monsters standing far too close. Without further delay, I decide blowing my cover to Luna is better than being torn to shreds by ruthless beasts and conjure one of my gifts from

Him. A brilliant emerald glow forms around my body, expanding slowly as I concentrate on creating a protective circle around the three of us, expanding it out a couple of feet out from us. The glow flashes bright enough that Luna has to cover her eyes before it settles, and a reasonable size ring surrounds us. The ring of power will repel any dark entity that will come into contact with it, burning them should they touch the now invisible barrier that surrounds us. I feel Luna move away from me and I look down to see her staring at me in equal parts awe and fury. I see her mouth form the words, "Divine Territory," and realize she's realized I’m an Angel, placed the name to my power and likely which side I've come from. Divine Territory is one of ten exceptional gifts He blessed Angels with. Only one Angel contains gifts greater than my own and the other Angels, but no one knows what happened to that Angel. My gift, however, has the ability to repel and destroy, whilst simultaneously purifying any area it touches. And I just flashed my hand in the

most blatant way to Luna in order to rescue us. Lunas jaw tightens, her teeth clenching together in frustration, so I pull her face into my palm. I watch her eyes briefly flash Silver, mine no doubt flashing Emerald in return, and wait until her angry eyes fall to my lips. "Now isn't the time to be pissed. We'll deal with it later. Right now, we need to get out of here." Looking around us again, I notice the Hellspawn have gotten a foot away from the barrier, the entire ring of protection surrounded by the monsters. If they're looks of vicious glee that's shining in their eyes is enough to go by, it looks like they know how far up shit creek we are, and just how paddle-less. I push Luna behind me where she grips onto the back of my shirt despite her anger, and I decide that using my second gift won't create any more damage than what's been done. I lift my hands out in front of me and push my power into them, thanking all that is holy for being blessed with the gift of Divine Weaponry. With my palms facing one another with a

wide space between them, sparks of green flashing between hands, I wield an iron sword, the handle encrusted with stunning emerald jewels, with the power trickling down my arms and into the middle of my palms. The moment the weapon is created, I'm shoving it toward Noah who doesn't hesitate to accept it. Luna's pokes her head around my back and watches my power in full form, so when she taps my back and I turn my head to face her, she mouths, "Bow and arrows." I don't ask questions, the next weapon I create is in the form of a wood and silver bow with a dozen silver arrows. Luna snatches them from between my hands the moment they're created and tucks them to her chest. I then create a doublesided iron axe for myself before letting go of my power. With all three of us wielding our weapons, I feel my confidence rising slightly. Maybe we won't die today. Luna moves from around me until we form a triangle, each of us facing one another. When I look at her face, a breathtaking display of fierce

determination takes over her entire features. She looks at me with steel in her eyes, and then tells me, "I'll distract them, you and Noah take down as many as you can. You'll have just over three minutes." I don't bother questioning her, the confidence she exudes is enough for me to comply. She looks at Noah and nods before turning her back to us. Noah and I share a brief glance before we follow suit. I can feel Luna moving to the side of me, her elbow grazing my arm and then nothing. I focus on the Hellspawn and notice their feral grins slowly fading, their eyes becoming heavy-lidded and sleepy. What the fuck? I turn to see each of the creatures in a sudden state of exhaustion, like all of their energy has been sucked out of them, leaving nothing more than drowsy, half asleep beings. In their state now, they look nothing like the lethal beasts they were created to be, but a herd of humans who haven't had a decent night sleep in weeks. I pull out my ear buds, deciding to risk their screams, and am greeted with the most beautiful

voice I've ever heard. A gentle, feminine voice sings a stunning rendition of Prayer by Hayley Westenra, the softest melody floating through the air, every note perfectly hit. With wide eyes, I turn to face Luna, whose hands are glowing bright silver and an almost invisible stream of power flows effortlessly through the tips of her fingers. I suddenly realize what she meant by distraction. And I quickly figure out where that Angel I mentioned before had disappeared to. Fucking Earth. She sings them into submission, causing them to fall into a dream like state, delirious enough that they couldn't possibly cause any harm without tripping over themselves. Then I remember we only have three minutes to take down as many of these things as we can. I tap Noah on the shoulder and motion for him to take his ear buds out. His eyes widen in surprise just as mine did when he hears Luna's singing, but I shake him out of the trance, his eyes snapping to me. "Kill as many as possible."

And with a final nod, we're flying through the air and attacking any Hellspawn that we can reach. We swing our weapons, slicing through the monsters like hot knives through butter, heads rolling and limbs falling in a disarray. Thick red blood splatters the cement of the road and stains our clothes, but we battle through the hoard, taking down creature after creature. All too soon, Luna's song begins to come to an end and the effects of her power starts draining from the Hellspawn, all while we stand in the middle of them, slicing and hacking our way through their bodies Suddenly, it's quiet, Luna's soft singing unheard. It's like watching in slow motion as the power leaks completely from the beasts, the vicious, feral gleam sparking in their eyes when their minds return to their normal savage conditions. Like a trigger that's been shot, they fly into action, black claws flying towards me, just missing the bare flesh on my arm. Dagger like teeth are everywhere, wild growls filling the otherwise

dead air around us. An arrow is suddenly flying through the air, whizzing just passed my face, almost nicking my cheekbone, and I hear a, "Shit, my bad!" from Luna. More arrows are shot through the air, hitting their targets with deadly precision, the clang of Noah's sword echoes off the concrete when the metal connects with the ground, the sound of the air parts for my axe as I wildly swing at any Hellspawn that comes too close. It's not enough. We find ourselves backed into a figurative corner, a building blocking our exit to the left of us, and Hellspawn to the right. They creep closer and closer, murderous intent palpable with every move they make. Just when I think our time is up, Noah steps forward and shields us with his body before his left hand - that isn't holding his sword - glows a gold light bright enough to rival the damned sun. He lifts his glowing hand above his head, and just before the creatures come any closer, slabs of concrete are

falling down onto them, the sound of snapping bones and the sickening squelch of flesh and blood fills the air. Any creature we hadn't slain before is promptly crushed under the weight of the newly formed cement, a pale gold glow covering each slab. Noah's hand is outstretched in front of him before the glow fades and he lowers it to his side. He turns to face us and flinches. I look to where his eyes are focused and I find a very furious looking Luna right behind us, her eyes sparking bright silver, making it impossible to see nothing but the blinding light where her eyes should be visible. Her entire body is vibrating, but I can't make out if it's from the adrenaline or pure fury. Fury is confirmed when she grinds out, "I fucking knew it."

Luna "I'm surrounded by nothing but lying, betraying bastards and assholes. Sur-fuckingrounded by Angels who are playing tug-of-war with my Goddamned life, pulling me towards Heaven and pushing me towards Hell!" I'm yelling loud enough for the neighbors to hear, but I don’t have it in me to give any less of a shit. Not with the blinding rage that’s rushing through my body like a venomous poison at the ridiculous hurt I'm feeling. Stupid? Yes. Can I help it? Not one bit. I knew why they were here, but to have their powers flashed in my face like a neon sign that says, 'you’re an idiot', it's a bitter pill to swallow. Especially with Noah, of all people. Sweet, shy, gentlemanly Noah. Stupid, stupid, stupid. "Luna, I turned the mission down. I swear,"

Noah calls up to me from the stairs underneath the ones I'm practically sprinting up - a floor underneath me - in an attempt to get away from the two lying assholes that followed me home, even when I made it abundantly clear they weren’t wanted here. I let out a derisive snort as I take the steps two at a time, climbing up the stairs like it's my life mission to put as much distance between us. Devon says absolutely nothing as they meander after me, and I'm more than grateful for it. If I have to listen to that dick utter a single sarcastic retort right now, I'll not be held responsible for my actions. "Please, Luna, let me explain," Noah tries again, sounding a little breathless after running up almost five sets of stairs. "Your explanation can kiss my ass," I snap, just as I reach my door. The wooden slab opens before I even need to pull the key from my bra, Eli's high raised eyebrows the first thing I see, his face full of surprise. I don’t spare a second to talk to him, push passed his lean body, and slam the door shut,

angrily kicking it for good measure. When I turn around, it's to see both Eli and Asher staring at me with varying emotions ranging from bewilderment, shock and concern. Unfortunate for them, controlling my anger at this particular moment is impossible, and seeing their faces knowing they're only here to do Satan's bidding, yet letting them into my life regardless has my bubbling anger spilling over the fucking cauldron. I mean, how desperate for company, other than my dear Francis, was I? A rhetorical question considering I'm glaring daggers at my desperation in the form of two Angels who've been trying to play me since the moment my eyes landed on them. I've never felt like a bigger idiot in all of my long ass existence. "Flower… you okay?" Eli timidly asks, making to move closer to where I'm stood breathing heavily. A pounding on the door sounds out from behind me, Noah calling through the thick plank that separates us, "Open the door, Luna. Let me explain. Please."

Then Devon's voice is filtering through the door after Noah’s soft plea. "Cut the shit, Luna. Enough with the tantrum. Let us in." Like a damn suddenly breaking, I lose the last retrains on my temper, my eyes flaring the brightest they've ever flashed. My body is visibly shaking, and all rational thought have fled my brain. A ridiculous sense of betrayal and sadness have taken the driver's seat in my muddled brain and now leads me. "Peaches, calm down so you can tell us what's wrong," Asher soothes, his voice the tender, gently voice he uses in my nightmare. It only fuels the anger and hurt. "I've never seen her eyes that bright, bro," I vaguely hear Eli whisper, but I'm too far gone to think straight. Sucking in a deep breath, I let loose every emotion that's overfilling my body, screaming out my feelings that have suddenly been unleashed. The noise that pours from my mouth is a stream of fury, helplessness, and pain. Stupidity for allowing Asher and Eli close knowing damn well they were

here to lure me to Hell. Frustration at myself for thinking Noah was a good guy, but realizing he's been on the opposite end of the spectrum, sent on a mission with Devon to bring me back to Heaven. And worse, yet, the sense that I'd had something good, albeit under false pretenses, and it's been ripped from underneath me. Every single feeling pours out of my in an anguished scream, so powerful that my body hunches in on itself, my arms wrapping around my stomach as it all falls away from me. Was any of it real? Asher and Eli's kisses, the playful flirting and cuddles? Was Noah's smile when he saw me as fake? Am I really that stupid? Centuries and centuries, I've lived alone and never felt as big of a fool as I do now. Suddenly, the noise of things smashing fills my eardrums through the screaming, the glasses in the cupboards breaking, anything made of glass shattering around me, mimicking the feelings inside me. My hair takes on a mind of its own, purple strands floating all around my head as though a gust of wind is blowing it all around me.

With the last of my scream, my beautiful round window shatters to a million pieces, glass skittering in every direction, an actual gust of wind rushing through the now large hole in my apartment building. My scream cuts off abruptly and I'm hit with immediate exhaustion, a tiredness I feel all the way down to the very bone. My knees cave in, and my body slumps to the floor, my back hitting the door I'm still standing in front of. The blinding light from my eyes has vanished, and I spot Asher and Eli crouched on the floor, hands over their heads to cover themselves from the combusting shards of glass. Everything grows quiet, the only sounds in the room is my rasped breaths, heaving for the air I'd just expelled. Slowly, ever so slowly, Asher unfurls himself from his position to stand fully before facing me with wide eyes and a look of worry, whether genuine or not, I have no idea. I've depleted every ounce of energy I had left in me with my outburst and can't bring myself to care.

But that also means I don’t have the energy to stop the pools of tears in my eyes from spilling over and trailing sadly down my cheeks. Eli lifts himself from the floor, next. He faces me and walks towards where I sit slouching on the floor and timidly asks, "Luna?" Using the last of my energy, I tilt my head to look at him and watch him flinch when I give him an empty look, one last tear streaking down my face, and croak through my abused esophagus, "Stay away from me." The last thing I see is a flash of hurt in Eli's face before the lights go out and I'm falling into the black abyss that is unconsciousness, welcoming the nothingness with open arms and a heavy heart. *** I wake up with a brain splitting headache, my body aching as though I put it through an intense workout routine after not exercising for five years. I groan in pain when the ache in my head makes opening my eyes incredibly difficult.

I realize I'm lying on my front, so I go to turn over but a low, rumbling voice makes me stop in my tracks, "Stay where you are, peaches." I feel like I'm suddenly awake when the deep baritone of Asher’s voice causes a rush of goosebumps to break out over my skin. The more I wake up, the more of my surroundings finally make themselves known. I'm in the living room, lying on the couch with my upper body and head resting on something not as squishy as the cushions I should be sprawled over. Underneath me, is a set of wide, muscled thighs that I embarrassingly recognize as Asher. He's brushing his hand through my hair in soothing motions, massaging a particularly tender spot at the crown of my head. His other hand is resting low on my back, something my now very awake self gets caught up on, the pressure of his hand reassuring and the warmth seeping through my dress and into my skin has me perking to attention. "How're you feeling, Flower?" Eli asks, his face suddenly right in front of me. His eyes are wary, like he's talking to a wounded kitten and he's

frightened of scaring it away. With that one look alone, everything comes rushing back to me; the betrayal, the anger, absolutely losing my shit and then... nothing. I've no idea what happened after I fell to the floor feeling completely drained. I do remember everything else, however, so I close my eyes to hide the frustrating tears welling up in my eyes. I'm not quick enough, it seems, when I feel his hand press into my cheek gently. "Let us explain, Luna," he whispers when he's close enough for me to hear him. My eyes open to see the pleading in his, and I cave, giving him a reluctant nod and whimper when another dull ache pound in the confines of my skull. Slowly, I turn over on to my back, Asher helping me along so my head rests in his lap, his hand continuing his journey through my long waves. Another voice sounds out in the living room, and whilst my head is facing the ceiling, Noah's handsome face pops into my line of sight. He wears a cautious expression, his eyebrows

pulled down into a troubled frown. "Hey, Luna. How's your head?" he gently asks, fidgeting with his hands. "It feels like I've had a one-man marching band playing the entire soundtrack to Grease repeatedly on max volume in my head for the last twenty four hours," my scratchy voice grumbles, still lacking the appropriate energy to be pissed at any of them, especially with the way Asher’s hands run through my hair. It's enough to send me back off to sleep. Eli, standing from where his ass had been perched on my coffee table, has me waking back up. Noah walks away and I can hear rummaging in the kitchen, cupboards opening and closing and water running from a tap. Noah's back in a flash holding two tablets in his hand while Eli holds out a glass of cool water, condensation dripping down the side of the glass. Where did he get an unbroken glass? Didn't I break every glass I owned? I clasp the glass in my hand and Asher gently lifts my pounding head to help me inhale half of the water. When my mouth doesn't feel as dry as

the Sahara Desert, Noah hands over the tablets and I take them without question when I get a nod from Eli, as though I need his confirmation they're good to take. With the glass empty, I pass it over to whoever will take it and Asher lowers my head back down to his lap. "One of you start talking," I demand, closing my eyes against the light that isn't doing my headache any favors. It's silent in the room for a moment, the only sound of a clock ticking somewhere behind the couch. Noah goes first after a beat, and says, "I turned the mission down, Luna. I told you I wouldn't hurt you, and when I found out the reason for me being here, I refused. When you arrived at the library yesterday-" "Wait, yesterday? I've been out of it for that long?" my confused question cuts Noah off midsentence. "Yeah, peaches. Now shut up and listen," Asher commands with his gravelly voice that keeps doing annoyingly delicious things to my spent body. I’m still furious at each of them, but I can’t help

snorting at his command before quieting down to let Noah continue. "When you showed up, I was packing my things, getting ready to go home because they reassigned someone else to take over." My heart suddenly hurts at the thought of him leaving Earth. Leaving me. It's completely ridiculous because I've spent such little time with him but try telling the ache in my chest the same thing. "Were you just going to leave without saying goodbye?" I ask in the most pitiful voice I've ever heard fall from my lips. I should be angry that he'd been here for a mission to get me to go back to Heaven, but I'm suddenly upset that he was going to leave. Seriously, there’s something wrong with me. "I would have found you to say goodbye, Luna. I wouldn't have just left with no explanation," he softly replies, a little hesitant at first when he realizes I'm not even pissed off at the situation I should be pissed off about. I look over at him and see the genuine honesty of his words, and

for some reason, it makes me feel a little better. I give him a slow nod and watch his body visibly relax, hearing a swift exhale of air come from him. "Alright. I'll accept that," I tell him steadily before I turn my face towards Eli and then Asher. "So, when were you guys going to tell me you were working for good ol' Satan?" Asher turns to stone underneath me and I watch realization dawn on his features. He looks down at me, observing my expressionless expression, and asks slowly, "how long have you known?" I look away from him before he sees the hurt on my face, and mumble, "Your power told me you were working for Lucifer. I lied when I said I didn’t know how you hopped into my dream. Dream Jumping is one of the ten greatest gifts, you know. I didn't know for sure until you just confirmed it for me, though. Only makes sense that Noah and Devon work for Him while you and your brother sit at the opposite end of the table." My voice is detached and monotone, but it's as though the two brothers can still hear the pain in

the words. Eli slides off the table to kneel in front of his brothers’ legs, cupping my face in his large hand and moving it so I'm facing him but I close my eyes before his stunning chocolate brown eyes connect with mine. "Flower, please look at me." I don't. I shake my head slowly and carefully, still painfully aware of the pain in my skull. I can still feel the simmering anger burning under my skin, and I know looking at that dimpled face will ruin all of fury I’m harboring. "Well, fine. Be your usual stubborn self. That won't stop me," he responds ominously, causing my eyebrows to scrunch down in confusion. Before I can ask him what the hell he's talking about, however, I feel a light pressure on my mouth and quickly realize he's kissing me, and I immediately turn to mush.

Asher Luna doesn't push Eli away. When he moves away from her, she follows. If the situation wasn't so serious, I'd find it funny. "Do I have your attention now?" he asks her with a small smirk. I feel her head move with a nod, and when she settles again, I resume stroking her hair. She’s still wearing a frown and her eyes still hold the same anger has before, but it looks like she has a better hold on it for now. Eli gives me a look and I take my cue to explain. "Yes, we were sent here by Lucifer. We knew who you were and where to find you." Luna's head turns to face me and I watch her as I speak. "We were sent to convince you to change your mind and side with Lucifer." I quickly understand why Eli is always telling me I need to work on my words. The more

shit I seem to be spewing, the angrier Luna seems to be getting, ruining her progress to keep it contained. "What he's trying to say," Eli cuts off whatever else I was going to say that would have resulted in the opposite reaction we were hoping for, side eyeing me like he thinks I'm an idiot, "is that we realized we couldn't. Lucifer is a dick on the best of the days, so there's not a chance we were going to lead you right to him. Plus, we were both pretty quick to catch on to the fact that you'd string Lucifer up by his balls, and us next, if we actually attempted it. Not to mention we like you, and like being here, so we weren’t going to risk blowing that. I mean, I still have cookies to bake you." He cracks a smile in her direction, which causes her lips to twitch with a restrained smile. I carry on where Eli left off. "You've probably already heard there's a war brewing, peaches. We were sent to convince you to choose the side of Hell. Lucifer needs you and he needs you desperately, enough that he asked Eli and me to do what we can to convince you. I've no idea

why he needs you, but I don't like it." "I can probably answer that," the dick with the white hair pipes up from where he's been standing by the front door like a silent guard. I feel Luna's entire body tense and she moves her head to see where the voice came from, straining her neck to get a good view. Sure enough, when she spots the Angel, a string of choice words stream from her lips before she settles back down on my lap, the barely contained anger flashing across her features. "Who the fuck let the asshole in?" Eli has the good grace to look chagrined, shooting an apologetic smile to Luna before sheepishly confessing, "They kept knocking, so I gave up pretending we weren't home after you smashed the place up and let them in." "Great. Fantastic. Also, what happened to the glass? I'm pretty sure I blew any glass in the vicinity to smithereens." Luna slowly turning her head to look around the now pristine looking room. "Uh, that was me," the other Angel, Noah, comments. "Every piece of glass that was broken I

recreated and replaced. Creation Magic, and all that,” he says, pointing a thumb at himself. “If there's anything I missed, just, uh, let me know and I'll... I'll make some more." Luna's chest rises visibly with a deep inhale and lowers quickly when she blows the air back out. I'm only distracted for a few minutes before I snap out of my careful watch of her chest, shaking my head for feeling like an ass for checking her out when I should be doing anything but. "Are we just going to forget about the conversation that was in motion or are you all going to continue fawning all over the princess lying in your lap?" the white haired Angel, Devon, gripes. I don't much care for his tone, and my hand clenches next to Luna's thigh. Ever perceptive, Luna catches the motion, and picks my hand up in hers, dropping it on her flat stomach. She doesn't let go so I leave it there, flattening my large hand out with hers resting on top. Her face doesn’t change from the frown she’s wearing, still seeming to be mad, but my chest does something funny with the action. "Are you going to keep standing there or are

you going to bless us all with your absence?" Luna retorts, her voice still a little hoarse from yesterday's events. Eli snickers under his breath, shaking his head before looking down at the floor. "Like it or not, Princess, but we've suddenly found ourselves on the same side. Or as much of the same side as possible, given your circumstances. Unfortunately, that means I have to put up with this shit until it's resolved, so if we could get back on topic, that would great," the dick says snidely. Luna pats my hand absently and then gives me a subtle shake of her head, and when I spot the faintest smirk, one that doesn’t look overly friendly, I relax in my chair immediately. That look is the same look she had yesterday morning when Eli had the surprise of his life; the gift of the bluest of balls. I had to listen to the fucker gripe about it for an hour straight before he realized I didn't give a shit. "I like the fawning. I'm officially declaring this a free-for-all fawn zone, so if you don't like it, get the fuck out of my apartment," the little spitfire volleys back.

"I can't, or else I would have already. Have you already forgotten the attack that had Noah, you and I in danger not even twenty-four hours ago?" he questions, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. "What attack?" she deadpans, a picture of innocence on the surface, minus the little gleam in her eye that tells me she's enjoying herself a little too much. I cut into the verbal sparring match, deciding that I want to know what this jackass knows about why Lucifer needs Luna, considering he came from Heaven and shouldn't know shit about what happens down below. "What do you know about Lucifer and why he wants Luna?" Devon turns his attention to me and pauses before seeming to decide he's better telling me what I need to know. "Like you said, we're on the verge of war. Heaven against Hell. There's only one thing stopping the scales from tilting to favor one side or the other, and she's lying in your lap being pampered when we should be working out what the fuck we're doing here."

I ignore his smart mouth and focus on what he said about Luna. "What do you mean, Luna is the thing to tilt the scale?" "Luna isn't the only one who has a knack for research. There was an Angel blessed with two of the strongest powers He'd ever gifted. Eight more gifts were given in rapid succession, all powerful, but no more than the first Angel's. No one knows what happened to that Angel... or they didn't. The moment I heard Luna sing, I knew who she was and what Lucifer wanted with her. She has the power of Divine Melody, meaning she can create emotions and sensations in anyone when she infuses her singing, humming, instruments, whatever form of music she chooses, with her power. With just a couple of lyrics, she can make someone feel on top of the world, or on the brink of despair. Imagine that power, to be able to influence the emotions of others with nothing but your voice." Devon looks at each of us with a grave look on his face before settling his gaze on Luna. She slowly sits up from my lap with the help of Noah behind her. The asshole moves from the door and

stands behind the coffee table, still staring intently at Luna. "But that's not the only gift she has. The second gift she has is the one he wants most. Divine Touch." Luna goes impossibly still next to me. I look over to her and see her hands gripping the cushions of the couch tightly in her small fists. She's staring at Devon with wide eyes, her gaze never leaving his. Eli cautiously asks, "What's Divine Touch?" Luna breaks her gaze from Devon's and looks down to the floor. She clears her throat a couple of time before finding the ability to talk. "Divine Touch would be the ability to influence people with a single touch of my bare skin on whoever I chose to influence. Although I can affect the emotions of others, heightening lust, joy, sadness, you name it, Divine Touch allows me to influence the mind of others. With one single touch from the pad of my finger on your bare arm, I could essentially get you to do anything I wish. One touch and a soft whisper asking you to do the hula in

nothing but leather chaps, and you'll do it without hesitation. But just like Divine Melody, which you didn’t know before, I have to infuse the power into my touch. I have to touch you and will my gift into the contact for it to work." Everything around us becomes silent, quiet enough that you could hear a pin drop. Eli and I share an unsettling look. We can't let Lucifer get his hands on her. With war on the horizon, Luna would be the perfect weapon. The perfect Angel to have on his side and overthrow Heaven. One look at Luna's paler than normal face tells me she's worked out as much. "With the attack on us earlier, Lucifer will go to any lengths to get her, dead or alive. If he can't have her for himself to aid him in the war, then he'll dispose of her so there's no chance she could align herself with Him. It's not about picking sides anymore. It's about keeping the Princess alive and away from Lucifer," Devon summarizes. If Luna's face could get any paler, I'm sure it would have. "I think I need some air," Luna announces

in a daze, her entire body trembling when she stands. Eli stands to steady her before pointing out the obvious. "Should you really be going outside right now? What with Lucifer sending things to capture or kill you?" Luna looks around helplessly and an ache in my chest forms. "No, you're right, I shouldn't. I'm going to go to my room for a little while." Without another word to any of us, she walks on unsteady feet, silently up the stairs and to her room, closing the door quietly and leaving all four of us Angels in the living room eyeing one another. Suddenly, my cell rings out. We all look at each other again before my eyes land on Eli's worried gaze. The ringtone continues for several seconds before he says, "You have to answer, bro. He'll get suspicious. That's the last thing we need right now." I know he's right, but I stare at the phone like it's a snake poised to bite me, a ball of dread

forming in the pit of my stomach. I lift myself off the couch and walk slowly towards my cell, prolonging the inevitable. Once I reach the device, I pick it up and press the green button to answer. "Boss." Lucifer's rough voice trickles through my cell, causing unpleasant shivers to run up my spine. "Asher. It's been some time since your last update. Tell me, where are we with the Fallen?" With one look toward my brother and a quick, sharp nod in return, I prepare to lie through my damn teeth for the Fallen Angel in question sitting alone upstairs.

Luna Logically, I know staying inside is the safer option for me right now. Sadly, logic has flown far and fast out of the window. I'm still reeling after the verbal bomb Devon just dropped on me, my head a jumbled mess of worry, panic and the desperate need for air. I leave all four Angels in the living room, each one silent as I make my way unsteadily up the stairs and hide myself away in my room. The second the click of the door sliding closed sounds in the room, the breath heaves out of me in a rush. I lean my back against my door with a soft thud and slide down until I'm sat on the floor with my head in my hands, elbows braced on my knees. Finding out that Lucifer is searching for you for your power is a great way to cause someone the freak the fuck out and hyperventilate. I’d heard

Lucifer is a ruthless son of a bitch, many an Angel spoke of him before I fell, but knowing first hand that he's willing to lure me away with the use of two of his strongest Angels, or simply murder me to prevent him from losing this war, has me all kinds of messed up. I'm officially being hunted by Lucifer. With that thought alone, my breathing kicks up a notch, inevitable panic gripping me tightly in its clutches. How am I supposed to outrun Satan? I mean, it’s Satan. The need for air quickly becomes a desperate demand not to be ignored. Without another thought, I spring to my feet and march towards my large window. Being careful of the creak of wood, I slide the window open quietly and climb out, landing on the fire escape that winds down the side of the tall building. My body is moving on autopilot, racing down the steep metal steps until I reach six feet above the ground where the fire escape ends. I realize rational thinking would indicate that I'm re-enacting a scene in a horror movie or

book where the foolish female runs off without a way to communicate with anyone should she need to call for help, and without telling anyone where she's going, but my frenzied mind doesn't allow for thinking on such things when I have constant dread muffling my usually well put together senses. I don't even hesitate when I reach the bottom, and jump from the last step, landing in a partial crouch before straightening myself and briskly walking aimlessly, trying to rid myself of the panic and adrenaline coursing through my body. I walk for an hour, my quick paced walk never faltering. My breathing is coming in fast, my heartbeat accelerated, but I don't stop walking. I keep going until my lungs protest my unplanned burst of exercise and I stop with heaving breaths. Bending at my waist, leaning my hands on my knees, I take a moment to catch my breath. My panic settles to a bearable level, my anxiety not so suffocating, but I stay in the position catching my breath until I'm sure I'm not going to fall over if a breeze catches me off guard. When I stand again, I browse my surroundings while I wait for my

heartbeat to return to its steady pace. With surprise and confusion, I find myself standing in the middle of the cemetery I first met the handsome asshole that is Asher. I've no idea what brought me here, but here I stand, surrounded by grimy, weathered head stones. I spin slowly in a circle, noting nothing has changed since I was here last, but something doesn't quite feel right. There's something in the air that's different, a current that has the hairs on my arms standing on end. I reach a one-eighty turn when I turn as still as the statue before me. My stone features stare back at me, the very same statue I'd been thoroughly perplexed by the last time my eyes gazed upon it. Although nothing in the decaying cemetery has changed, my statue seems to look a little better than before. The stone looks cleaner, more detail can be seen in the face. The moss and debris have been brushed away to leave a less worn down, stone version of me. "I see he's begun to take care of it." Devon startles me from where his modulated voice sounds from behind me.

I twirl around quickly, my dress fanning out around me with the effort. I stare at Devon with my mouth agape, "What the fuck? Are you following me now?" "I've been following you for just over two weeks now, Luna. You really should be more spatially aware," he calmly berates. What the hell? Two weeks? Surely I would have noticed someone following me for... "Oh, my heavens. It was you I saw outside Frenchie’s. The white hair... Of course!" "I'm surprised it took you that long to figure it out. Not many human males have my hair coloring," he notes absently, his eyes on the statue while his thoughts seem to drift away from our current conversation. This asshole has been following me for over two weeks and I'm only now figuring it out? These Angels are messing with my game. "I didn't think he remembered this was here." Devon motions towards my stone replica before shifting his gaze towards me. I'm not sure if I'm seeing things, the shock

and adrenaline doing funny things to my eyesight, but I could swear his eyes look less guarded than they've ever been around me. There's a slight... softness to them at the moment. Something that looks both good and unusual on him. "I have no idea what you're talking about so if you want this to be more than a one-sided conversation, you'll need to fill me in," I tell him, turning back around to face the perfectly sculpted statue. "He had the statue made, just after your Fall," he begins slowly. I can feel the air shift and hear the grass crunch under his feet when he walks from his spot behind me. There's a sudden warmth to the left of me where his arm just about brushes my own. "When you chose to Fall rather than side with Him, He felt betrayed. His daughter, His prized Angel, chose His creations instead of He Himself. I can imagine He was feeling hurt and distressed at losing the Angel He cared for most. In order to heal, He thought it a good idea to have a replica of you made and buried on Earth amongst the dead, for He felt as though you'd died the

moment you Fell. If He couldn't give you a Burial of the Angels, then He decided on the next best thing, which was place your statue in the midst of a cemetery." I stand there dumbfounded, staring at the statue with whole new set of eyes. He... He felt like I'd died the moment I chose humanity? Is He really that butthurt that I didn't chose to side with Him that He had to create a replica to bury me? What a dramatic, over the top dipshit. Devon snorts, though he tries to muffle the sound with his fist. "What?" I ask. "You probably shouldn't be calling God a dramatic, over the top dipshit considering He has ears everywhere," he advises. Oh. I said that out loud? He’s wearing a smirk that's both amused and teasing when he looks at me. Had it not looked good on him, seeing a smirk that wasn't full of discontent or mockery, I'd have retaliated on principle alone. "Wait, what do you mean He has ears everywhere? He still watches over Earth?" I

question hesitantly. When I fell after choosing to live amongst the very humans He created, I assumed He’d cast Earth aside, no longer wanting any part of the world He made and cherished. "As far as I'm aware, He still regularly checks over Earth," Devon replies, looking at me briefly before turning towards the statue again. "Huh. Go figure," I grumble. Devon snorts again, pulling my attention back to him. When he catches my bewildered stare, he defensively asks, "what?" "Are you snorting? Do you suddenly think I'm funny?" "No." He deadpans, turning to face away from me. I can see a soft splash of pink sitting high on his cheekbones, and being unable to stop myself from teasing him, I continue. "You totally think I'm funny. It's okay, I'm hilarious. You're allowed to laugh. I've been concerned for your mental being when you haven't laughed any other time." He looks at me as though I'm crazy before responding. "I didn't laugh, it was a snort. And I

don't think you're funny. I just… thought of something amusing." Wow. He's really hell bent on denying it. "Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night." He doesn't respond, choosing to drop the conversation. When I sneak a peek from the corner of my eye, the pink flush on his cheeks seems to have gotten brighter. I don’t even try to hide my shit eating grin. We stand side by side for a little while, just staring at the stone version of me when a thought hits me. "Why did you follow me? I mean, I was under the impression you couldn't stand me." He hesitates a moment before whispering, "It would make things easier if I couldn't stand you.” I’m not sure I was supposed to hear that, but he continues before I can say anything about it. “I don't particularly want to fall on my knees at your feet, but I can tolerate you." I think that's the closest I'm going to get as a compliment from him, so I keep my snide remark to myself. "Plus, Heaven needs you more now than

ever. I'm merely protecting you should Lucifer send more of his minions. You really should have told someone you were leaving,” he adds to his answer. I stay quiet for a beat until I find myself needing to tell someone what's weighing on my mind. "I panicked," I tell him quietly. "I've used my second power only once since I Fell. It didn't end well. I know the damage it could cause, Devon. The only time I used it I almost cost someone their life. I can't be made into a weapon to fight alongside Lucifer. He'll use me to destroy everything. I wasn't made to be used as a weapon." The vulnerability in my words doesn't go unnoticed. I can feel Devon’s eyes trained intently on me, and when I lift my gaze, sure enough, his pale green eyes connect with mine. His eyes are void of the usual impassive, cold glare he sports. In its place is a surprising tenderness, understanding and something else I can't put my finger on. He lifts his hand timidly, looking as though he's about to comfort me somehow, before he thinks better of it and drops his hand back to his side and looks away

from me. With fierce determination, he promises, "You won't be made into a weapon, Luna. I won't allow it to happen." He looks directly at me, his gaze unwavering, and with that look, I believe him. This isn't the usual Devon I've come to know, but it's a Devon I'm finding it difficult not to trust. I give him a nod before looking away, and we both settle into a comfortable silence. Another thought comes to mind, but my attention is quickly snatched away to the right where the loud snapping of a branch echoes off the trees around the cemetery. I feel Devon’s soft hand grasp my bare wrist and he pulls me closer towards him, indicating that I haven't lost my mind and he heard the noise too. We both look around, but there's nothing. We check the trees but see no shadow of figures or anything out of the ordinary. Devon tugs on my wrist until I'm stood in front of him and his other hand reaches up to hold my waist firmly. "Something doesn't feel right," he voices so quietly, I have to strain to hear him.

Sure enough, the strange feeling I had before comes back with a suddenness that had me wavering on my feet. The air feels thick with static, everything seems too still around us. The chirps of birds that sounded high in the trees has disappeared. The noise of leaves rustling, cars driving on by, the crush of the grass when Devon or I shuffle; all gone. There's nothing but an eerie silence surrounding us. It's as though all the noise around us has had the life sucked out of it and left an unnatural quiet in its stead. Ever so quietly, Devon leans down and whispers in my ear, "When I tell you to run, you run, you hear? Don't hesitate. Just do as I tell you." I barely get my nod out before Devon's hold on me slackens and I feel his body move away from mine. I wait in tense anticipation for the Angel to give me my order to run, but what I hear instead is a heavy thud from behind me. Thinking no better of it, I twist and see Devon's body sprawled on the floor, his eyes rolled to the back of his head so only the whites are visible. Another noise has me spinning back around,

putting my back to Devon and a startled gasp leaves me when a giant of a man, one that isn't the surly Asher I've grown used to, stands directly in front of me. Gold armor covers him from head to toe, a soft looking material tucked under the heavy looking metal plates that cover his torso and legs. He has a pretty face - too pretty. Every feature is perfect and symmetrical, not a blemish or freckle in sight. I'm pulled out of my perusal of the stranger when he lifts two beefy hands to either side of my head and softly whispers, "Sleep." The world around me begins to dim, a sudden fatigue pummels into my body, leaving me spent and ready to drop. Darkness clouds my vision, my eyelids becoming heavier and heavier with every blink. The time between blinks becomes longer, the effort to reopen my eyes one I can't fight any longer when exhaustion wins out and my body succumbs to the unconsciousness that awaits me. The last thought I have before fading into the darkness is, I'm getting really tired of this whole passing out when I least expect it shit.

Luna I’m disoriented when my eyes open, everything around me too blurry and out of focus to see clearly. Everything seems to be swaying, nothing is still as it should be. My surroundings are dark, too dark for it to be evening, but I can't be sure if that's my poor eyesight or if I'm not outside anymore. I'm suddenly jostled, and a lyrical grunt sounds from underneath my stomach. I didn’t know grunts could be lyrical, but there you go. I know that tone of voice, though. It's the pretty boy I saw just before darkness claimed me. With slow clarity, I come to realize I'm being carried on top of the guy's shoulder in a fireman's lift. That explains why everything around me looks as though it's moving when it shouldn't be. With the gentle rocking and my fuzzy heads

state, I quickly become nauseated. It begins to feel as though I'm on a boat and I've come down with a sudden case of seasickness. With a dry throat, I tell my captor, "Uh, excuse me? If you don't put me down, I'm afraid I'll barf all over your shiny costume." The guy stills for a moment before ignoring me completely and continues to walk down what feels like a never-ending path. My eyesight clears the more he walks, and I notice we aren't outside like I thought. We seem to be in an underground tunnel. On the walls on either side of us are dirty, worn-down mosaic tiles made into portrait of humans. I squint to find a name of some sort but come up empty. This tunnel must have looked beautiful in its day, but now it's dank and dreary. The walls are covered in grime and dirt, the floor's once pristine cobblestone is now cracked and nothing short of a walking hazard. The entire place looks run down and forgotten. It makes me a little sad so see such a beautiful place discarded and left to decay. The guy who carries me none too gently

jostles me again, causing a very unladylike grunt to slip through my lips. "You could be a little gentler. It's not like I'm going anywhere what with you caveman carrying me to my doom." Once again, I'm thoroughly ignored and my irritation with the jackass notches up a couple of pegs. Our journey drags on, and I lose track of how long we've been walking, until the man beneath me comes to a sudden halt, causing my body to jerk around awkwardly, the shoulder pad of his armor digging uncomfortably into my stomach. It goes quiet in the hall, and then a noise that sounds like stone moving across stone echoes around the long narrow hall we just walked down. A soft orange glow seems to trickle from the opening I'm sure has been made, and my captor walks us into a large stone room, one that looks as though it's received better care than its entrance. The ground is made of grey marble, not a crack to be seen in the untarnished floor. The walls are clean and pristine, bright mosaic paintings of cute baby angels surrounded by soft clouds. The

walls are lined with vintage looking oil lamps, each one emanating a soft glow from the flames that sit within the casings. The only sign to show the room has aged is the worn down looking stone walls, but even those looks as though someone's gone at them with a sponge and soapy water. It's as though the room has been renovated. I'm suddenly being picked off the shoulder I've been slumped on, lifted as though I weigh no more than a feather, and put down on my unsteady legs. When I find my balance, I turn to face the rest of the room. In the middle sits a large marble table, the same color as the floor. Behind the table is a large cross made of wood, intricate patterns carved in the polished wood. In the middle of the beautiful carved cross is a wooden carved version of Jesus. Beneath the cross are rows and rows of lit candles, all varying in sizes and placed unevenly on the stone the juts out of the wall to hold them. I realize, too, that the man who kidnapped me like a barbarian isn't alone. On either side of the table stands four more of his kind; two to the left,

one to the right and one directly in front of me with only the table to separate us. Each one wearing the same body of gold armor and each with too pretty faces. They look almost identical to one another, but the slight change of shade in their hair colors distinguish them all. My captor moves from behind me and stands next to me on me right. Once he's in place, one of his buddies on the left moves to stand on my other side. "Care to explain what's happening here?" I question but receive silence as my answer. Hands are suddenly gripping me tightly and I'm being lifted off the floor. My body flails uselessly, my legs kick out trying to unlatch myself from these strangers. It becomes clear pretty quickly that I'm outmatched in strength when not one of them flinches and they both carry me over to the table and lay me down on my stomach. "Hey, whoa, what the fuck? Who are you?!" I yell out, my voice muffled when my face squishes against the stone. As quick as I'm put down, I'm flipped over to my back and my eyes connect with

the man who'd stood at the end of the table. "Look, if this is a cult, I want no part of it. Cults really aren't my thing. You'll learn pretty early on that I'm useless at doing what I'm told," I prattle, trying and failing to keep my calm with my rambling. The man merely looks at me, his face void of any emotion. I look around at the others who now surround my body on the table, each one with the same mask of indifference. My heartbeat picks up its pace and my hands become clammy. What the shit is going on here? When no one answers me, not even to tell me to shut up, panic seizes me where I lie on the marble. I look for any escape routes only to find the door in which came and no other points of entry or exits. It would be a futile attempt, regardless, with five inhumanly strong jackasses standing around me like they're about to sacrifice me. After a beat, each of them begins to chant, quietly at first, until their lyrical voices boom around the stone room, their mantra bouncing off the walls. Their voices harmonize beautifully and if

I wasn't terrified out of my goddamned mind, I'd be in utter awe. As it is, with my lying on a slab of marble with chanting, gold-covered guys surrounding me, my panic goes into overdrive. I decide to risk being caught and make to bolt off the table and to the door, but when I will my body to move, I realize I'm being held down by an unseen force, my body unable to move an inch. I try and try, forcing myself to move away, but it's as though a tightly would blanket has been wrapped around every inch of my and strapped to the marble beneath me. The chanting gets louder, and with it the light grows brighter. I spot one of the lamps just to the side of one of my captor’s heads and see the flame growing abnormally large, the flames licking at the glass and seeking a way to escape. I feel like that stupid flame right now. With the chanting getting impossibly loud, my mind becomes a little disoriented. A prickling sensation crawls over my skin, my body beginning to feel as though it's being attacked by a swarm of a million wasps. Despite my efforts to get myself to move, I'm forced to lie here

and endure the stinging pain that covers me entirely. The lights become blinding, the room surrounded by an orange glow. The strangers chanting all blends into one and it takes over my entire senses. My eyesight turns to black, everything around me is muffled. I can no longer smell the scent of the earth or the smell of the candles burning. As quick as it's gone, everything comes rushing back with more clarity, enough to cause a throbbing pain in my skull. With my senses, a pain so fierce wraps around every inch of me. I release a sharp scream between gritted teeth, my eyes clenching tightly. My entire body feels as though it's been set of fire, flames coating whatever bare skin it can find, charring my flesh. The pain becomes so unbearable that another scream is torn from my lungs, so piercing that my own eardrums protest against the sounds. My captors’ voices all become a jumbled mess of words I can't understand through my agony muddled mind, and through the pain, I feel the telltale signs of unconsciousness rearing its

annoying head. When another inferno like blaze sweeps across my body, the pain becomes excruciating to the point where unconsciousness seems like the more appealing option, and so I give up the fight and fall into the emptiness, escaping the pain and leaving my mind utterly blank. *** A chilly breeze wakes me from my sleep, the air so cold that I shiver and try to pull my blanket tighter around my body. Only problem being, I have no blanket and the breeze doesn't seem like it's coming through my open window of my bedroom. Shuddering against the bite in the wind, my heavy eyelids open slowly. My surroundings come to me in a daze, and I realize I'm outside lying on damp grass. Everything around me has darkened, and stars litter the night sky. Another gust of wind has me realizing I'm lying in wet grass in only a chiffon dress and boots. I involuntary shiver went the cold seeps through my thin dress, and pull myself up slowly, noting every bone that

makes up my body aches terribly. With the fog in my head dissipating, I take a look around and find myself standing by my statue again. That one look sends floods of memories into my brain; the strangers in gold armor, the dingy hallway that lead to the refurbished looking room, the chanting, and the pain. I quickly look over my body and find nothing is amiss, not a scorch mark from the burning pain I felt before passing out. I look around again, noting nothing has changed but the time of day. Just before I turn to make my way home, however, a glint catches my eye in the far corner where the old mausoleum stands. I turn to face the small building and find the very same guy who kidnapped me standing like a silent sentinel outside the door staring in my direction. I stare at him in return, beyond confused at the entire situation I am finding myself in. He gives me a swift nod before facing away from me. I take it as my que to leave, and without further hesitation, I turn on my heel and steadily make my way home.

I drag my tired and achy body home easily, my walk to my apartment uncomplicated and void of any kidnappings or ambushes. I make it home in more time than it would have had my body not felt like it had been used as a battering ram. I force myself up the five flights of stairs and pull the spare key I hide in the little hole in the wall besides the door. The door is quiet when I open it, and male voices sound out as soon as the door is open fully. No one notices me at first, so I lean against the door and listen to the heated argument that seems to be in play in front of me. Asher stands in front of Devon - who's sitting on the couch looking worse for wear pointing a finger at him. His deep timbered voice booms out, "You should have fucking told us she left her room. Who the fuck knows where she is now?" "I told you I was with her the entire time. They snuck up on us. By the time I woke up, she was gone," Devon tiredly responds, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "You shouldn't have gone without telling us,

you idiot! You were the one who told us how much danger she was in, and you just decided that we didn't need to know she was gone?!" Asher explodes, his face full of rage at the white-haired Angel, who looks like he's just as pissed off with himself as Asher seems to be. "Bro, calm down. This won't help us find her. Just take a breath. We'll get her back, and we'll chain her here so she doesn't go missing again." Eli tries to placate Asher, walking over to where he stands and clapping him on the back. Noah sits silently in my brown leather lazy boy chair, his elbows on his knees and his hands clamped tightly together in front of him. He looks positively distraught. Deciding to announce myself rather than stand back and watch them snap at each other and cause more problems, I half ass snort and proclaim, "You can chain me to my bed as long as you bring me coffee, cookies and books."

Luna All four sets of eyes swing towards me, and a chorus of relieved sighs sound out from them all. Devon’s head falls to the back of the couch, and with a relieved, "Thank fuck," he rubs his hands roughly across his face. Why does he seem so glad to see me? Eli races over to me and pulls me into a bone crushing hug. When I groan in pain, he lets go and pulls me at arm’s length before his questions come at me in rapid fire. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where have you been?" "I'm okay. My body aches like fuck, so be gentle with the hugs. And I've been at the cemetery," I answer each question and then I'm pulled into another hug, but one a lot gentler than before. I feel Eli drop a kiss to my head and hear him sigh, and his arms tighten a fraction more when

I lift mine to return the embrace. He holds me for a few moments before dropping another kiss on my head and then lets me go. Noah is just behind him, and he doesn't wait to pull me into another hug, his lean arms wrapping snugly around me. My arms go up automatically, hugging him back. His cheek rests on my head briefly before he pulls away with a pink tinge to his cheeks. "I'm glad you're okay. You scared the life out of us." "I'm sorry," I offer to Noah and the others, looking at the floor for a moment. When I lift my head, my eyes connect with Asher’s stormy blues. His face is stony, his eyes sharp and intense. His muscled body vibrates with barely restrained energy and when I whisper, "I'm sorry," again whilst staring directly at him, he makes his move towards me. The look on his face makes me believe he's going to throttle me, so I move backwards until my back hits the wall. I lift my hand and point a warning finger at him and sternly tell him, "Don't you dare, Asher Ryan. Don't you dare."

Ignoring me seems to be the focal point of the day when he barrels straight towards me. The moment he's stood in front of me, he bends his knees and looks as though he's going to tackle me through the damn wall. What happens, however, is that I end up in yet another fireman's hold. Asher wraps his arm around my ass before he lifts. I propel forwards with the momentum and find my stomach resting over another shoulder, but this one thick with sheer muscle. My body protests only briefly, until Asher’s hand comes up to hold my ass steady on his shoulder. My head dangles behind his back, my purple locks hanging in waves that reaches just passed the bend in his knees. "Asher, put me down!" I demand, placing my hands on his firm ass so I'm able to push myself up slightly. I shake my still aching head until my hair falls out of my face and my gaze connects with Eli's. He's staring at me with a Cheshire like grin, those dimples winking at me and turning my insides to goo. He doesn't make a move to help, though. Oh, no. That bastard just stands there with his gorgeous, tattoo covered arms crossed, watching

the entire show like it's the best thing he's seen in... well, ever. "Fucking traitor," I growl at him. Asher shuffles me on his shoulder before he begins his walk to whoever the fuck knows where, and I lose grip of his ass, falling back down with my hair swinging wildly with the movement of Asher’s stride. I don't miss Eli's infectious laugh, however, which makes me glad he can't see my face when a smile blooms across my mouth. I grab hold of Asher’s behind again as he goes, lifting myself up awkwardly. This time I spot Noah, who looks on at us with amusement. Devon is watching with a straight face, but I can't mistake the twinkle in his eye that tells me he's enjoying the show just as much as the others. "Assholes!" I declare before I'm carried upstairs and into my bedroom, the sounds of their laughter blessing my eardrums. Even Devon's, surprisingly enough. Asher moves into my room and spins around so I'm facing the inside of my room. I hear the door shut closed and the next thing I know, I'm

airborne. I'm flying through the air until my back suddenly crashes down onto the soft duvet that covers my mattress. "Alright, you damn caveman! You didn't have to man handle me and then launch me in the air!" I yell at him, trying to untangle myself from the duvet that's twisted around my body with the fall. "Why can't I unwrap myself?!" With a single yank and a whoosh of material, Asher manages to remove the duvet from around me and holds it in his hand with an eyebrow raise. "I'm calling that a fluke. I did most of the work to untangle myself," I indignantly respond, narrowing my eyes at the face of the Angel who's looking a little too smug for my liking. Returning his eyebrow raise, I ask, "Want to tell me why you just carted me to my room like a Neanderthal?" He just stares at me for a moment, before he pulls my boots and socks off, throwing them behind him where they thud into the wall and fall to the floor. He then turns to sit of the bed and removes

his own boots and socks off in complete silence, before standing and turning to face me. "Asher? I need an explanation here," I push, but it seems as though I'm getting the silent treatment off the angry Angel. I go to open my mouth to ask him again for a reason for his brand of crazy right now, but he renders me speechless when he climbs onto the bed and crawls until his body hovers above me. My breath catches in my throat and my heart beats double time. If it’s quiet enough, I'm sure I'll hear the thundering thumps of my heart crashing into my ribs. He leans in close, his nose almost touching mine, his minty breath fanning across my now parted lips. I'm so surprised when he talks that I jump, his gruff voice sending tingling shivers down my spine. "Don't ever do that again." I can do nothing but stare at his lips when he talks, so entranced by the way they move that I can only whisper, "Do what?" "Don't run off without us, or without telling us. Don't run off without your cell again. Don't run

off and come home acting nonchalant after who the fuck knows what happened to you. Don't do that to us again, you hear? Don't do that to me," he gravels out, his voice tense with restrained emotion. My eyes flicker to his and my breath catches for a second time. The intensity that he stares at me with sets my insides of fire. He was that worried? He cares that much that he threw me over his shoulder to lock me away and ask me never to leave without telling him. Despite the little amount of time we’ve known one another, I’ve grown to care for him. It’s nice to see that the feeling is mutual, even if the delivery is a little crazed. I swallow audibly before lifting my right hand and pressing it against the side of his face, his two days’ worth of stubble grazing my palm. Feeling like I owe him nothing less, I stare him in the eye, lift my left hand and motion an X above the left side of my chest. I can see the silver glow reflecting in his eyes before I slowly promise, "I swear to never leave again without taking proper precautions."

The glow fades into my skin and settles just beneath the surface. With my promise, something changes in Asher's gaze. No longer is he holding back the panic and worry because it's been replaced by something much, much better. His eyes bore into me, filled with unadulterated heat and desire. My body lights up from the inside out, sparks of need flaring up inside me without warning. "Is this the part where you kiss me now? Because I think I need you to kiss me. This very second," I mumble, my eyes dropping back to his lips that pull into a small smirk. The teasing, the looks he gives me when he thinks I can’t see him watching, and the stupid amount of time I’ve spent staring at the piece of prime perfection has finally caught up to me. If he doesn’t kiss me soon, I’m pretty confident I’ll go out of my damn mind. Luckily for me, he doesn't waste another second. His mouth crashes into mine, setting my body alight from the inside out. His soft lips part against mine and his tongue sneaks out to lick my

bottom lip before capturing it between his teeth, eliciting a gasp from deep within my chest. His tongue invades my mouth with sensual strokes, my tongue tangling with his. I kiss his him back with equal vigor, my hand sneaking around his head to grasp a handful of his dark hair. I give his hair a sharp tug, pulling him closer towards me. A sexy growl vibrates in his chest, and he leans more of his weight on top of me, pinning me securely to the bed. His left hand trails a slow line towards the crook of my knee, pulling up my thigh until it rests high on his waist. Using the heels of my feet that rest on his ass, I tug him even closer until there's no space between his body and mine, feeling every inch of him pressed up against me. The large hand still hooked under my knee travels up my thigh, raising my dress until the lower half of my body is bare, save for my quickly dampening panties. His hand keeps moving upwards with painstaking patience, until my dress rests just under my braless breasts and his calloused palm firmly wraps around my ribs. My right leg lifts of its own accord, hooking

around Asher’s firm, muscled back. My ankles hook together, capturing him snugly between my thighs. A little pressure of my feet on his ass causes his denim covered groin to against me in the best possible way, the friction sending white hot pleasure though my body and eliciting a gasp from my mouth. I'm cursing myself for wearing panties today when the need to feel him against my bare flesh sends my body into overdrive, goosebumps breaking out over my skin. His kisses deepen and a guttural groan pours from him when I rub myself harder against him from underneath his muscular frame. Suddenly he’s ripping himself away from me, sitting up in the bed until his ass rests on his heels. Large hands run up my ribs until they reach my bunched-up dress. With Asher leaning over me, I barely hear the distinct noise of material ripping. When the noise registers, I look down to find Asher has ripped my dress straight down the middle, exposing my entire body to him. With eyes filled with pure hunger, he looks over my bare skin, eyes lingering on my heaving chest. My nipples tighten painfully when his heated

stare lingers. "I liked that dress," I whisper, my voice trembling from the desire racing through my veins. "Noah can make you another," he replies absently. He gives me a rare cheeky smile before he's kissing me quiet, sending my mind into a state of delirium where nothing exists but him and me. He pulls back slightly, and his gaze caresses every inch of bare skin, skimming over each tattoo. Soon his hands join in, travelling up my body starting from my lower belly, over my ribs where he traces one particular art piece that sends delicious shivers through my body, and up further still until both hands are filled with my breasts, massaging and teasing my nipples until they harden further. His head moves away from mine, and a long moan pours from my parted lips when his mouth latches on to the sensitive points. My back arches, pushing myself further into him and I'm rewarded with a graze of his teeth that sends a flood of liquid to my core. My legs clench around his waist dragging him impossibly closer, my soaked panties rubbing

against his still jean covered shaft. With my head tilted backwards, I breathlessly mumble, "Clothes. You're wearing too many. Get them off." He complies, moving away from my nipples with a pop. His shirt in yanked over his head and I'm left staring at pure solid muscle, his defined abs a sight to behold. His Adonis belt peeks out from beneath his jeans, and I’ll admit they’re enough to make weaker women cry. His jeans are gone not a second later, impressing me with the speed he can rid of his clothing. With only the tightest boxer briefs that leave nothing to the imagination, he leans down to resume pouring his attention into my sensitive buds. He nips and lathers one after the other, turning me into a puddle underneath the attention, my needy whines and soft moans filling the empty space in the room. When I rub myself against him with more vigor, he must reach his limit when he yanks himself away from me and tears my panties from my body with an appreciative growl that sends a flush through my body. He lays back on top of me,

and his mouth seeks mine for another deep kiss. I kiss him long and hard, simultaneously using my feet to pull his boxer briefs off, shucking them quickly until we're both bare and every inch of his skin brushes my overheated flesh. I'm thanking the above and below for Angels being immune to disease when I feel Asher’s impressive length sliding through the wetness between my folds and hits my clit with the perfect pressure that has my whispering profanities and clutching him tighter. Thankfully, Angel pregnancies work the opposite way to human pregnancies. I have to take a pill to get pregnant instead of taking one to prevent little Angel babies. “Ash, no more teasing. I need you. Inside me. Right now,” I whisper between gasps. He pulls his head away and his gaze connects with mine. He stares at me for a moment, his hungry gaze boring into me. I give him another squeeze with my legs and push my needy core towards him, giving him the confirmation he seems to be looking for. With his shaft already lined up, it takes him one sharp thrust until he's buried to the

hilt deep inside me. "Fuck," he growls, the noise doing funny things to my body as my walls clench around him, adjusting to sheer size of him. My walls grip him tight when he pulls his hard cock from within me and swiftly sheaths himself until he bottoms out, his hips flush against mine. Another deep growl has my pulse racing faster. He buries his face in the crook on my neck, breathing in and out deeply. When he seems to get control of himself, his hips begin a steady rhythm, sliding his shaft in and out of my body with strained control. I’m not prepared for the tender way he pours kisses over my neck and shoulder, holding me tightly but gently while he moves above me. Emotion has my breath hitching, and I cling on to him tighter while his body conquers mine. His movements pick up speed, along with my breathing, the sounds of skin connecting with skin with every thrust fills the air around us. I meet his thrust for thrust, our movements becoming frenzied and desperate. He takes hold of my ass in his meaty

palms, tilting my lower body higher, finding a new angle that has my toes curling and my back arching with pleasure. His cock finds the sweet spot deep inside me that has my orgasm rushing up quickly, clouding my mind with the need for release. My pussy tightens around him with a vice like grip when he pounds relentlessly in to of me. "Fuck, Ash. I'm going to-" My words cut off when my orgasm rips through my body with one more thrust of Asher’s hips. He growls deeply before planting his mouth on mine, capturing every noise I make with my orgasm. He holds my body tight to his while my release takes over and turns my body into one big trembling noodle in his arms. Before I come down completely from my orgasm, his shaft slides in and out of me at a faster pace, Asher seeming to lose his restrained control. His hips smack into mine and before I know it another orgasm is teetering on the edge, every slick slide of his shaft pushing me closer and closer to the fall I desperately need. With one last pound of his hips, Asher suddenly stills above me, a long, guttural groan

pours out of him with his release, spilling himself inside of me. It's enough to send me over the edge again and I'm shattering around his shaft for a second time, milking him dry until we're both breathing heavily, my body quivering from the aftershocks and his body going slack on top of me. We lie together for a few moments, holding one another tightly before he pulls back and kisses me tenderly. He sighs against my lips and pulls back. "You drive me fucking crazy," he grumbles breathlessly. I grin up at him before kissing him back deeply, tangling my hands in his hair. "Good. Now move your sexy ass. I need to clean up," I quip, inhaling a ragged breath when he pulls out of me and away, falling on his back in my bed with all of his naked glory on display. I climb out of the bed, careful not to christen the sheets with his release that's slick between my legs. I shed my ruined dress and walk towards the bathroom. I don't reach the room when I'm suddenly being twirled around and lifted, my legs automatically wrapping around Asher's waist.

He pushes me against the wall next to the bathroom door, and whispers hotly against my ear, "That can wait," and impales me again with his rapidly hardening shaft. We spend hours exploring one another, tasting and learning one another's bodies, barely leaving the bed. Everything else is forgotten: my panic attack, the kidnapping, Lucifer. Nothing matters inside this bedroom other than Asher and the way he makes my body melt with every touch.

Asher I watch her lying in bed sleeping soundly, her soft breaths coming easily, her back rising gently with every intake of air. The sheets are a tangled mess around her slim body, her bare back on display. The tattoo of a pair of stunning wings surrounded by various patterns and designs that takes up the entire expanse of her back proudly on show. If I look carefully, I can see where the longjagged scars remain from where her actual wings used to lay. Her tattoo covered arms are tucked tight to her body, gripping a pillow she's snatched as a replacement when I'd carefully climbed out of the bed. Her tattooless, toned leg is hitched high, smooth skin begging me to reach out and glide my hand over her, with her other tattoo covered leg is snugly wrapped in the sheet. Her hair is a stark

contrast to the white pillow under her head, fanning out around her like a dark halo. She's sprawled across the bed shamelessly, taking over the entirety of the king size, leaving no room for anyone but her. Tonight is the first night she hasn't had her nightmare. I've stayed up waiting, watching out for any signs that she's fallen into her own personal torture, but all that she displays is a soft smile as she sleeps, content and happy while she slumbers. Despite my gruff nature, I can't help but be in awe of her. Her strong will, crass way of talking, selflessness and determination is something to truly admire. I can't help looking at her and see an incredible person, not someone I was sent here to retrieve for Lucifer. She's beautiful, and not just on the surface. Everything about her is nothing short of stunning. From the way she laughs at Elijah's stupid jokes and teasing, or her thoughtful nature and the way she pays attention when one of us talks to her. I was sent to lure her away to a place she didn't want to be, convince her to side with Satan

himself for a war she has no part in. Everything in me screams, pleads not to hurt the Angel, and I can't. I won't. I refuse to be a part of dragging this Angel down to Lucifer because… I'm pretty sure I fell in love with her without meaning to. The realization is almost like a physical slap to my face and I stumble backwards before my hand shoots out to catch myself on the wall. My heart pounds heavily in my chest, a beat skipping every now and then while the realization sinks in. My head feels lightheaded and my vision becomes a little blurry. I love her. When the fuck did that happen? Now that I think about it, it mustn't have been long after officially meeting her at the cemetery. That mouth of hers drew me in instantly, her take-charge-not-shit attitude was like a flashing beacon to a moth - me being the moth in this scenario. I was helpless the moment she asked why I was hanging out with the dead. Or maybe it was the smirk she threw at me when she refused to give me her name. Either way, I was fucked from the

get-go, and maybe I knew it the moment my eyes landed on her that day. In the short amount of time I’ve known the feisty woman, she’s gotten under my skin and I can’t stop thinking about her. It must have been the shameless cussing. It’s like a fucking siren call. I laugh quietly under my breath, the noise causing Luna to shift, her head rolling to the side to face my direction, still fast asleep but sporting a small frown. I can't help staring at her, the delicate lines of her face, her plump lips that I remember the feel of all too well. Unable to resist the urge to walk over to the bed, I make my way over and crouch. I stroke a soothing hand over her purple locks, pushing it away from her face and tucking a stand gently behind her ear. She sighs gently, a blissful look of peace replacing her frown. It's as though my touch alone has lessened whatever had been weighing subconsciously on her mind. It's that look that's my deciding factor. That look of contentment at nothing but a stroke of my hand is the final push I need.

I lift myself up from my crouched position and pull my discarded t-shirt on, my grey sweatpants already in place and hanging low on my hips after I went to grab a fresh pair of pants once Luna fell soundly to sleep. I leave the room as quietly as I can, shutting the door with a soft click of the latch. I run a hand through my midnight blue hair and take a deep breath before making my way down the stairs. I move towards the kitchen where I left my mobile, and when I get to the island counter and pick up my cell, I notice Eli leaning against the opposite counter with a bowl of cereal and a mischievous grin on his face. "Well, nice of you to grace me with your presence, bro," he gives me a wink and I roll my eyes at his banter, turning away to hide the smile I want to give him. "What're you doing up, anyway, caveman? I assumed it would have taken the entire power of Hell to tear you away from Luna," he jokes, but the curiosity is evident. "Seems I have a phone call to make," I grumble, shaking my phone in his direction. I turn

to lean on the counter, putting my back to him. I scroll through my numbers and find the one I'm looking for. Before I press the green button to dial, I hear Eli put his bowl down, the clattering or ceramic and metal clanking when the sets in on the marble countertop. He's then in front of me, moving on silent feet. "What number do you need to call?" he asks, though he likely already knows. Eli has a keen sense of what goes on in my mind considering the amount of time we spend together. "I can't do it. I'm calling him to tell him I refuse the job. I'm not hurting her, something we already decided, and I can't keep lying. He'll find out sooner or later, so I'd rather do it now." Eli looks at me with concern, studying my face. After a tense moment, he asks, "you sure about this? Have you told Luna?" I shake my head and tell him, "Luna doesn't know. She's been asleep for the last hour. But I'm sure. No more lies and hiding shit. I'm not giving Luna up to that bastard when we know what he'll do with her and I'm not having him hanging over

our heads any longer." After a couple of seconds, he gives me a broad smile and pulls me into a brotherly hug, clapping my back a couple of times before letting go. "Best plan I've heard from you in a long while, bro. Count me in. Flower will have a hard time getting rid of us once you're done with your call." He gives me another slap on the back before heading towards our room. I focus back on my phone and press the dial button to begin the first call I dread with all of my being. "Asher, how nice of you to call," comes a grating voice from the other end. My spine stiffens and I take one last deep breath before I seal my fate. "Boss" I reply, my heart thundering uncomfortably in my chest. "I assume you're calling to update me on the plan. Is she close to deciding yet? Your last call was somewhat... lacking," Lucifer's deep throaty voice trickles through the phone.

Sucking in a deep breath, and letting it go slowly, I brace myself to tell him the bad-for-him news. Here goes fucking nothing. "Actually, Boss, she's decided. She's staying on Earth. Her decision remains the same and..." I pause before pushing through, "and I'm staying on Earth to watch over her. I refuse to force her to choose when she's already made up her mind. She doesn't deserve it. I won't be the Angel to lure her into doing something she's not willing to do with her own free will." I'm breathless by the time I finish my sentence and there's eerie silence coming from the other end of phone, not even the sound of Lucifer's breathing can be heard. The silence has my anxiety growing, until the Angel finally replies. "I see," he grinds out, his voice colder than I've ever heard it. My skin breaks out in chills. "And your brother?" "Boss?" I question tentatively. He waits a beat before elaborating. "Does your brother hold the same sentiment? Or can I count on him to do the job I sent him to do?" "He'll be staying with me," I clip out, my

teeth grinding together while I wait impatiently for this conversation to end so I can get back to the sleeping Angel lying naked in bed. "Well, then. In that case, if you're not going to the only job I ordered of you, then I have no use for you" he replies ominously, his voice void of any emotion. Before I can respond with useless questions, the line goes dead. I look at the device in my hand, the screen blank, confirming that he hung up on me. Unease settles in my chest, the prickling feel of foreboding pressing down heavily on my shoulders. Trying to brush the feeling away, I walk back to the bedroom where Luna still rests peacefully. I walk through the door and shut it gently behind me, throwing my shirt off when the door closes. I'm only two steps into the room when pain splits up my back, my knees caving in from underneath me. I land heavily on the floor, gritting my teeth against the pain that feels like a thousand knives embedding themselves in the entire expanse of my back. My chest tightens and I can't catch my breath. That is until another wave of pain shoots

through my body and I'm forced to inhale sharply. "Ash? You okay?" Lunas sleep filled voice infiltrates the pain filled fog in my brain and I look up at her. She’s lying on her side just where I left her. When I don’t respond, grinding my teeth together to stifle the cries of pain that are on the verge of tearing from my mouth, Luna turns over groggily until she’s facing where I’m still hunched over on the floor, hands clenched tightly, teeth gritting together so tight that they almost meld with one another. I watch the moment she realizes I’m not okay. I watch as her face goes from sleepy and satisfied to horrified and agonized, unable to do a damn thing about it when the useeable fire stroking my back gets ten times hotter. My efforts to bury the sounds of pure torture is shattered and I can't help but release an agonizing scream when yet another wave of pain laces itself around my body. My coal black and tainted blue wings burst out from underneath the skin on my back, knocking shit over in the process, but I can't focus on

anything but the searing agony that's racing over my hunched form. There's sharp bolt of pain right where my wings connect with my back and I hear the sickening sound of bones cracking and breaking. I can feel the moment it happens through the pain, the moment my wings snap from between my shoulder blades and fall - to the what was once a white wooden floor - in a mess of blood, bone and black and blue feathers. "No. Fuck. Asher what the fuck have you done?!" Luna screams, her voice cutting through my disorientation the pain has left me in. She pushes herself out of the bed and runs over to me, the sheet still tangled all around the body I'd worshipped all night. I double over on the floor when one last wave of pain rushes through my body, falling on to my stomach on the stained floor, my head still facing Luna. My breathing is heavy, every intake as painful as the next, and on the verge of passing out. Black spots dance in my vision and my head feels like it's filled with cotton.

"Don't you dare, Asher. Don't you fucking dare," Luna hoarsely pleads, repeating the same words she used earlier when I scooped her up to hide her away from the world. This time, however, it feels like she's demanding that I not to leave. I don’t want to leave. That’s what this was all for. I feel her hands gently cup my face and I manage to focus on her face long enough to see tears streaming down her face, anguish marring her beautiful features. I try to move my hand to comfort her, but all the energy I had has been zapped out of me. I'm fighting a losing battle with my consciousness, and it soon wins out. A gentle calm washes over me, a soft blanket surrounding my body. The pain subsides enough to make way for the caress of Lunas powers, a soothing melody rocking me into peacefulness. The last thing I hear before my body and mind gives out is Lunas broken voice whispering, "You fucking idiot".

Luna I sit on the floor, my back leaning against my bed with Asher's head cradled in my lap, my hand brushing through his blue tinged black hair. The wavy locks are soft as silk as they filter through my fingers. The other three Angels are in various positions around my room, in different states of distress. Well, except Devon. He looks as though he's ready to bolt at any second, fully dressed in the same clothes he'd been wearing earlier. I'm in no right mind to question him on his sleeping attire, however, when Asher's blood coats the floor and his broken wings lay haphazardly around him. Straight after Asher yelling out in pain, Eli came barreling up the stairs and barging into the room. I've never been so glad to have a lockless door in all my life. His face contorted into one of

worry and pain for his brother when he saw him lying on the floor next to me, soaked in his own blood and unconscious. Noah and Devon followed soon after, racing up the stairs on Eli's heels. They've stayed with me since, refusing to leave me by myself with the Angel passed out on my floor. I can’t say I mind. The gratitude I have for each of them for simply staying with me can’t be put into words. I always viewed my fall as the worst thing that I’ve ever experienced. Being a firsthand witness to Asher’s fall might trump that by a landslide. I’ll never forget the look of agony on his face. Never. Noah sits on my bed next to where I sit on the floor, his right leg pressing snugly into my side while his hand rubs my shoulder soothingly. Elijah’s leaning on my dressing table, arms folded across his broad chest, ankles locked together. His face is scrunched up in concern for his brother, the most serious I've ever seen on his face since meeting him. If I wasn't so worried about Asher, I'd stand and give him a comforting hug he's always eager to give me.

Devon is stood near the door, as still as a stone, his hands clasped together in front of him looking like a he's guarding my room from the enemy. He wears a blank mask on his face, so I can’t get a read on him at all, but he really doesn’t look like he wants to be standing around waiting for an Angel he doesn’t even like to wake up. I mean, last they spoke, Asher had been cursing him out for allowing me to run off without telling anyone, and he had withheld the information before disappearing after me, leaving the others in a state of panic. Every time Asher stirs or releases a pained groan, I brush my hand gently over his forehead and begin humming softly, letting my power glide through my voice, through my hand and into his body. He soon relaxes under my touch, his breathing evening out until he’s softly snoring like he didn’t just get his wings torn from his goddamned back. "How long does he have left until he wakes up?" Elijah gently questions, watching my hand brush Asher's fringe from his face. A flash of

longing crosses his eyes, but it's gone in a blink, so I choose to ignore it for now. One thing at a time. "I'm not sure. I was alone when my wings were stripped, so I don't know how long I was out for," I respond morosely. From the flinch that came from Eli, the squeeze of my shoulder from Noah and the tightening of Devon's mouth, I may have hit a nerve and they’ve taken my answer for resentment for being alone when I went through one of the worst things I’ve had to endure in all the years I’ve been alive. I don't blame them or any other Angel for my fall or my wings being removed. It was my own damn decision. It was just a simple fact that I was alone when it happened. I wouldn't change it, even if I could. "I'm sorry," I whisper. "I didn’t mean it like that. It was my choice and I'd do it a million times over, without hesitation. I was simply just pointing out that I'm as clueless as you guys are right now. My dream never allows me to track time, so I've never known how long I went through the aftermath, regardless of how many times I've tried to work it out." My voice breaks at the end of my

sentence, unfamiliar emotions choking me into silence. Noah, like the sweetheart he is, slides off the bed and sits right next to me, placing his arm around my shoulder and squeezes me to his warm side. "We know you didn't mean it like that, Luna" he softly replies, quiet enough for only my ears to hear, but Eli somehow hears him, too. "Sorry, Flower. Just strung a little tight right now. We all know you didn't mean anything by it," he explains gently. I give him a nod when he shoots me a small reassuring smile, and I rest my head on Noah's shoulder. My hand never misses a beat, continuing to run through Asher's hair. His body twitches every now and then, likely from the pain I'm not able to fully take away for him, but he makes no other outward appearance that he's hurting, so we all sit and stand around simply waiting for him to wake up. It's quiet in the room for some time, the only sound to be heard is my alarm clock ticking away on my bedside table, my gentle humming, and the

steady breaths coming from Ash. The guys don't move from their positions the entire time we wait. What is probably hours later, I hear the telltale sound of Asher's skin sealing back together, the deep slashes on his back sewing themselves slowly back in place. I watch silently as his skin tightens, the bleeding finally stops, and his flesh seals itself back together, leaving two jagged scars almost identical to mins left on his otherwise unblemished skin. I feel a tear escape my eyes and slide down my cheek. I shake my head and wipe my face on the shoulder that isn't still leaning into Noah. After a few minutes of watching Asher heal, he starts to come to, groaning and attempting to roll off my lap and onto his back. Speaking from firsthand experience, I know for a fact he doesn't want to put any pressure on his freshly stitched wounds right now, because although the wounds are sealed, they’re still at the stage where the cuts are still fresh and pretty damn tender and will be for a little while. I grip his shoulder in one hand and place the

other on his stubbled check, gaining his attention when he stills from trying to roll over and slowly opens his eyes. His piercing blues clash with my grey gaze and, as cliché as it may sounds, I could have sworn time stands still for a brief moment while we look at one another. I have never felt so much relief in my life until now when his eyes bore into mine. "Hey," he croaks after going so long without using his voice. He carefully moves his arm and wraps it around my waist - even with Noah pressed up against me - his head still cushioned on my legs. I hear Elijah snort and a sharp exhale from Devon, but my focus can't be torn from Asher’s sapphire eyes. "What did you do, Ash?" I choke out. I can feel the tears burning in my eyes. I've never been a crier. Never. What are these damn assholes doing to me? "What I should have done a while ago. Just took me realizing something important to finally do it," he responds. "We understand," Devon voices, still

standing guard at the door. I pull my gaze away from Asher’s deep blue eyes and look up to face Devon in shock. His eyes are already on me and a look of longing flitters through his peppermint irises. It's gone before I can fully register it in my mind, his face once again turning blank. "I don't. I don't understand anything at the moment. Make me understand," I plead, unable to continue being left in the dark, having no clue what the fuck is even going on around me anymore. Devon doesn't reply to my pleading even when something akin to guilt crosses his features; he just nods to Eli and Noah and motions them to the door. All three Angels leave the room, a concerned look of Eli’s unusually somber face and a swift kiss to the head off Noah. Devon doesn't look back when he leaves the room and shuts it behind him. I feel a pang of hurt in my chest but stifle it. Why am I even hurt? Seriously, what are these jackasses doing to me? Asher's arm tightens around my waist and snuggles his head further into my lap, his face pressing against my lower abdomen, and sighs. I

subconsciously start roaming my hand through his hair again, content to sit there buried in my own thoughts while I hum a random tune to give Asher some comfort and relief from the pain. Why would he Fall now after choosing to side with Lucifer? Why did he go through that kind of pain when he was here to convince me to go back? He's jumped into my dreams, he knows the kind of agony I suffer every night. I don't understand why he's willingly put himself through that kind of torture, aware of the effects it would have. Has he lost his mind? I did forget to Google if Angels can lose their minds. "I can feel your mind running a mile a minute, peaches," he whispers into my belly. The hand that's wrapped around my back starts moving in soothing motions up and down my spine. Considering I'm the one with the power to calm someone with a note of a song, it's a strange feeling having him to comfort me. It's not an unpleasant feeling, just something I'm not used to. I'm quiet for a few moments, gathering my thoughts before spilling them into the room. “I don't

get it, Asher. Only recently you fessed up to working for Lucifer. You picked a side, so why would you choose to Fall now? Why pick Earth when you already had a home in Hell?" I blurt. He moves his head back a little to look at me, assessing my mood and how much information I can take right now. I didn't realize he knew me so well if he's trying to determine how much I can handle when I already sound panicked. "Luna, surely you're not that clueless," he gently comments, burying his face back into my oversized shirt I yanked on swiftly before I was joined by the others. I move my hands to cup his face and gently nudge him away, moving his head so he faces me. The look in his eyes is one of pure devotion when they connect with mine and I freeze. That look is something I'm not used to seeing aimed at me from anyone other than Ms. Frenchie, and that's definitely not the same. I mean, she looks at Brutus the same way, so I can hardly compare. With that one look, I allow any and all my walls to shatter around my stupid heart for the first

time ever. With that one single look, I'm stripped bare and completely and utterly vulnerable for the very first time since crashing to Earth. My exposed heart thumps quickly beneath my ribcage and I feel a tremble run through my body. I stroke a hand down his face, memorizing the way he's looking at me right now. Despite the pain I know he's still in, he doesn't show it. He pushes it away for me while I panic over him and his missing wings. "For argument's sake, let’s pretend here that I’m as clueless as they come. Spell it out for me, Ash. Why did you do it?" I whisper so quietly that I'm almost positive he didn't hear me. That is until he whispers back the words that have never been spoken to me in all my long existence, "Because... I think I’m falling for you, peaches."

Luna I'm left staring at the beefy man cuddled in my lap like a damn house cat in complete shock. If there was a breeze here in my room, I'm sure it would easily knock me over. He's falling for me? Was that a poor attempt at a joke? A pun because he quite literally Fell? Does he know what he's talking about? Is he too out of it to understand what he's saying? Can Angels go crazy and Asher is the byproduct of insanity? I seriously need to Google that shit. He doesn't bother waiting for a reply. Instead, he shoves his head back into my abdomen while I stare at my bedroom wall like a deer caught in the headlights. Surely he doesn't mean that. I mean, we've known each other for a small amount of time. It doesn't make sense. Surely my lack of

charm and smart mouth, not to mention the Incident, are enough to cause a Millenia old Angel from Hell to Fall and lose his wings. My attention is pulled away when Asher lets out a pained groan, so I shakily begin to hum under my breath, my hand resumes its brushing through his hair. He settles quick enough, snuggling into me like he can't get close enough. I can do nothing but watch with wide eyes and a pounding heart, my hand trembling slightly with the effort it's taking me not to freak the fuck out. A knock at the door has me almost jumping out of my own skin, and when Noah's head pops around the door, my heart rate settles to a somewhat normal speed and I relax back into the side of the bed. "Hey, just checking on you both," he tells me with a small smile and rosy cheeks. The grenade Asher just dropped on me has still rendered me speechless, so I can't even answer the man. When I open my mouth, nothing comes out but a weird high pitched squeak that I wish I could suck right back into my voice box. "Uh, are you okay, Luna?" he questions,

shuffling fully into the room. He crouches down beside me while I continue to watch him with my mouth gaping open and closed. I sure do make a remarkable resemblance to a fish right about now. Asher groans in pain again when the effects of my power wear off, and our eyes snap to where he lies on the floor. "Do you need anything, Asher?" Noah asks, his voice low like he thinks speaking too loudly will hurt the broken Angel in my lap. "Water," Asher’s grumble is muffled when he doesn't move his face from my stomach. "Get your ass out of Flowers room, and you can have an entire sink full of water," Eli says from the door. When the fuck did he get there? With some effort, Asher lifts his hand and flips him the bird, but my humor seems to be missing with the pressing thoughts of Asher’s delirious confession. That's all it was, surely. The mutterings of a man delirious with pain. That's what I'm going with, regardless. Eli's gaze flickers over my face briefly, before walking closer and crouching down next to

his brother and quips, "Come on, you big oaf. You can milk it downstairs." He looks at Noah and asks, "Can you grab an arm and drag him downstairs with me? I'm strong, but he'll crush me if I attempt this shit alone and he falls." Noah gives him a nod and braces himself closer to me so he can get a better angel to lift Asher without hurting him too much. If there's one thing to say about Noah, is that he's nothing short of a sweetheart. "Fuck you," Asher growls half-assed, making no move to shift his body away from mine. Eli snickers before bending and looping Asher’s arm around his shoulders. Noah copies the motion, hooking his arm carefully around Ash's back, avoiding the scars that now line his once flawless skin. Asher's arm is pulled around Noah's shoulders, and he and Eli pick Asher off the floor with a great amount of care. Me? I'm still sitting there like an idiot, mouth hanging open wide enough to catch flies and my eyes the size of the moon. I'm so out of it, I don't

even realize they've moved Asher from the room and downstairs until Eli comes back into my room. He crouches down until he's at eye level with me and lifts his hand to cup my cheek in a familiar motion. "Everything okay, Flower?" he asks gently, his thumb stroking the apple of my cheek. I blink a couple of times before shaking my head. Get your head out of your ass, Luna. I clear my throat a couple of times, and when I feel like I can speak without croaking, I tell him, "Yeah. No? Maybe. I don't know." Because that makes as much sense as an alpaca wearing a tuxedo. I shake my head again, sure that if I shake it enough, it'll factory reset my brain. "I'm going to go with 'no, Eli, I'm not okay'. Come here," he tells me before I'm scooped up in his arms bridal style. He stands with me securely in his embrace, turning around and sitting on my plush bed and settles me in his lap. My head finds itself resting on his shoulder while one hand runs up my back in soothing motions and the only holds me

close to his chest. We sit like that for some time, him comforting me, no doubt thinking I've gone into shock over Asher's stripped wings instead of Asher's confession. I don't bother correcting him or explaining why I'm suddenly not working right, leaning on him and soaking up the attention he's giving me. "Better?" he quietly questions, moving his head back to look at my face. I give him a nod and mumble, "Yeah." I loop my arms around him and give him a tight hug in thanks, one he gladly returns. "Alright, let's get downstairs, then, beautiful. I think we have a whole bunch of shit to discuss. Better to get it over and done with now, right?" He lifts me from his lap and deposits me on my feet. Once he's standing, he gives me a quick peck on the lips. Before he moves too far away, he whispers, "don't think too much about it for now." He's turning and striding out of my room before I can stop him and question what the fuck that

meant. Did he hear what Asher said? Or am I that predictable that he simply knows that’s what’s had me frozen like an icicle? This is all giving me a damn headache. Rubbing my hands over my face, I lock everything away in a chest at the back of my mind, deciding that whatever just happened can wait until Asher is better and thinking straight. Once I'm sure everything is locked up tight inside my brain, I straighten my back and walk out of my room and down the stairs like nothing is remotely wrong with the entire situation we've found ourselves in. That is until I see Asher lying on the couch, arm hanging over the side and his face scrunched up in pain. I clamp down hard on the box in my head when it tries to open, and I mentally kick that bastard to the 'not now' section of my brain. All conversation between the other three stops when I enter the room and my eyebrows shoot up my forehead. Clearly I'm interrupting a conversation that's about me or else they wouldn't have shut up that fast. Eli, sure as shit's, never that

quiet. Ever. "Well, we're talking about me, so what's the topic exactly?" with a calm tone I don't feel, but what's that saying? 'Fake it 'til you make it', right? I've got this. I think. They all share a look that I'm not privy to understanding, but I ignore it in lieu of sitting my tired ass down on the couch. Seeing as though the two-seater couch is occupied by Noah and Eli, Devon sitting at the island counter, my only other option is the couch where Asher lays sprawled haphazardly. Taking the 'fuck it' approach, I make my way around the couch so I'm standing next to his head. I don't even have to ask him to shift over when he awkwardly lifts the top half of his body, grunting with the effort. He gives me enough space to quickly slide underneath him. When my ass is comfortably sitting down, he lets his weight go, and lands back on his stomach with his head in my lap for the second time this evening. How the tables have turned. It was mere hours before my head was in his lap with his had brushing through my hair. "Comfortable?" I quietly ask Asher,

smoothing his hair down from its electrocuted looking state. That must have been from my hands earlier. He gives me a grumbled answer that I take for confirmation, and I settle into my seat. "Well, are we going to continue discussing whatever it was I interrupted?" My voice is nonchalant enough, but I'm itching to know what they'd been talking about before coming down the stairs. Teaches me to be so heavy footed when I'm not in the right frame of mind. Not one of them says a word, not even Asher, but I'll put that down the bear like snoring that's coming from him. I give him an indulgent smile while my hand works its way through his messy hair before I turn my gaze on the two Angels sitting on my couch looking uncomfortable. “Might as well spill the beans. Nothing says 'we're talking about you' more than causing utter silence when you step into the room." I smirk at them both. Eli rolls his eyes whilst restraining a smile, whereas Noah can't bring himself to look directly

into my eyes, his usual blush taking over his cheeks. Seeing as though I'm not getting answers off those two, I turn my attention to Devon, who's made his way around the island and is leaning against the back of the sofa holding a mug of coffee, if my sense of smell isn't letting me down. He notices me staring at the cup and rolls his eyes. I narrow my own at him before shifting my gaze away. I suppose I'll just sit in uncomfortable silence while stroking soothing motions through Asher’s hair and waiting for one of the assholes to crack and tell me what they were talking about. Just the everyday occurrence. Suddenly there's a mug of steaming liquid under my nose, the strong scent of coffee filling my nostrils with its mouthwatering smell. Shifting my cross-eyed gaze away from the mug takes longer than I care to admit, but when I do, I'm surprised to see Devon holding the mug patiently for me to take. His facial expression gives nothing away, so I accept the beverage with careful hands and a polite, “Thanks.” When he nods in acceptance, I give him a small smile before taking a sip of hot

coffee and sighing. Even more surprising is when he squeezes my shoulder before disappearing back to the spot on the sofa where he leans leisurely, completely oblivious to the fact that he's just confused the ever-loving shit out of me. I'm not in any mind to think too hard on it. I'll look closer when my head doesn't feel like it's going to implode. Silence stretches on in the room, nothing but the sound of the clock ticking and my unladylike slurps of coffee that I'm purposely making just to fill the room with some sort of noise. "Fine! If I have to listen to you slurping that damn drink anymore, I'll go mad," Eli flings his arms out in exasperation before rubbing his hands over his face, muffling a frustrated groan. "We were talking about what to do next. How to hide and protect you." "What? Like I'm some sort of damsel in distress?" I ask, not bothering to hide the mocking in my tone or hiding the smirk on my face. "No, smartass. But everyone seems to be after one thing, and that's you. So, we need to do

something so you're safe," he replies, peaking at me between his fingers. I can see the way his eyes crinkle at the corners, so I know he's sporting a teasing grin at my expense. Ass. I roll my eyes at him but before I can answer back, Devon butts in to the conversation, "we need to find somewhere safe for you to lay low or hide from whatever Lucifer sends after you, because I know one thing for sure. That attack earlier won't be the last. Not to mention whoever kidnapped you in the cemetery." "Hide? You actually want me to hide?" I ask, agitated that the confusing dick seems to be taking charge and is telling me I need to hide. What happened to my opinion, here? "I'm not hiding. Nope." "Luna, be reasonable. It won't be forever, but for the time being, you need to hide from what's coming for you. You can't sit here waiting for them to show up," Devon throws back. Maybe I am being unreasonable, and maybe I'm only doing it because I don't do well being told what to do,

especially by assholes, and confusing ones at that. I turn my head until I'm staring directly at him before slowly annunciating every word slowly, just so I'm not mistaken. "I'm not hiding. I won't run away from my home because The Devil can't take a hint." Asher finally speaks up, waking from his slumber. "Peaches, shut up and think for a moment. There'll be more attacks, and more chance that Lucifer could kill or capture you. I'm not risking it. My brother won't risk it," to which Eli shakes his head vigorously, "and I'm positive Noah won't, and Devon is stating his case right now, so you can guess where he stands, I'm sure." "No one asked you, asshole," I growl through clenched teeth. My anger snaps to attention, unusually fast considering it takes more for me to get angry than being told what to do. What's worse is that I can't actually seem to control it this time. My iron grip on my temper is nowhere to be found, and the more the guys talk, the more it heats, bubbling under the surface, ready to break free at any moment. And I don’t think I can stop it.

Luna "...so, we're finding a safe house, and that's final. End of discussion." Clearly Devon the Dick doesn't see my barely restrained anger, but the others have if their silence and confused looks are anything to go by. Asher’s head has turned to face me, watching me carefully. "Luna, are, uh, you okay?" Noah asks gently, but it's no use. Despite my efforts to calm down, despite Noah's soft honey like voice that normally has a soothing effect on me, I've already lost grasp of my normally controlled temper. I'm like a volcano on the verge of erupting in a wave of fury and frustration. What the fuck? "Flower? You're turning a funny shade of red there," Eli points out. I'm trying to control it,

taking deep breaths in and out. Inhale. Exhale. Nothing. Nada. I'm a bystander to my own damn emotions right now, emotions that aren't warranted. I never get this angry over anything, glass fiasco excluded, so I'm clueless as to what I can do to prevent the explosion that's on the brink of breaking free. My head begins to pound with the effort of restraining and when it gets too much, my hold on my temper slips. It’s enough that the last thread breaks and I’m helpless to stop whatever comes next. Asher lifts himself quickly despite his injured back, moving enough for me to awkwardly slide from the sofa and fall to the floor, clutching my head that harbors an agonizing headache. Everything is muffled, and all my senses dull down until I can barely feel, hear or see anything through the pain. A sharp shooting pain zaps through my head once, twice, three times.

Suddenly my anger is being released in the form I'd have least expected. For a second time in two days, silvery white light explodes from my body in waves of blinding rays. It’s just as it happened earlier, but this feels as though I’m being attacked from the inside. Instead of a release like I expected, it’s as though I’m being suffocated, pressure growing inside of me. This time, no glass breaks and the glow wraps around my entire body, encompassing me tightly in its prickling warmth. The pain in my head becomes unbearable, tearing a scream from my mouth. Before I know it, I'm falling sideways until I'm sprawled on the floor, hands clutching tightly to my head. The glow around me gets stronger and stronger until all four Angels are forced to block their eyes from the light, unable to do a thing to help me. It feels like forever until one last flash of light breaks from my body and disappears altogether. The pain in my head recedes slowly, dulling down until it's a throbbing ache behind my eyes. I lay on the floor gasping for breath, one hand across my forehead and the other clutched on my chest, trying to calm my heartbeat

and inhale as much oxygen as my body will take. Once I'm semi-composed, I notice the room has turned deathly silent. Not a noise can be heard from anywhere in the apartment, not even the annoying ticking of the clock. With a hand gripping the side of my skull as though that'll help the pain, I use my other hand to lift myself from the floor slowly, mentally checking over every other part of my body, making sure no limbs are missing or… something. "What the fuck just happened?" I groan, finally sitting up right. The pain in my head dulls further so I pull my knees up and rest my forehead on them, clasping my hands behind my head while I wait for the rest of the thudding behind my eyes to dissipate. "Luna," Noah starts apprehensively and his tone has my head slowly lifting up to meet the wide eyes gazes of the four Angels whose eyes are trained intently on me. “What? Anyone know what just happened?" I question again when they all stare at me like I've created a song made entirely of queefs.

Did I grow another head? Is that what the pain was? Could that be why my head is hurting so much? Maybe it was my brain splitting in two so it can inhabit two heads. A bit farfetched, but anything is possible these days. The guys continue to stare at me with wide eyes and parted mouths. Devon does his best to look a little less shocked, but if anything, it makes him look constipated. "Shall I just work this shit out for myself while you all gape at me like fish?" I ask a little tersely given that I'm being stared at like an object in a museum and receiving zero answers. Eli snaps himself out of it pretty quickly, seeming a little panicked for reasons unbeknownst to me, "Flower, I'm not sure if you're going to like this but..." And the dick just leaves his sentence hanging. Who even does that? "But what, Eli? Spit it out." He pauses a moment before he blurts, "You're fucking hair turned silver." It's me who's left staring at him like a moron

with my mouth hanging so low that it almost touches the damn floor. My hair is silver? Did they suddenly go blind? My hair is as purple as Barney the Dinosaur. Fucking silver. "Eli, are you feeling okay?" I ask slowly. How do I go about telling him he's lost sight of his colors, is the real question. "Luna, I mean it. Your hair is silver. Like, not even the dull grey, but like a shiny silver," then he's back to gawking at me. I turn my head towards Noah, who nods in confirmation. Living in denial is a thing of the future, so I turn towards Asher. The traitor nods awkwardly with his face squished into the cushion of the couch. Ignoring him too, I face the only Angel who will tell me what's what. "Devon, you're going to tell me right now that my hair is as purple as a unicorn fart, do you understand me?" He winces slightly at the desperation I didn't quite manage to hide, and I know he's seconds away from shattering my well-designed illusion that they're all pulling a shitty prank on me. "Sorry, Princess. But your hair is the furthest thing from

being purple. It's silver, like Elijah said." I'm suddenly bolting up off the floor and barreling towards the bathroom downstairs, my headache and any aches and pains forgotten. I barge through the door and come face to face with a silver haired version of me. My hair really is silver. And it looks like it's glowing. What. The. Shit. I take a deep inhale before releasing it slowly. Okay. So, it's silver. No big deal. I mean, I didn't even have to touch it to turn the color to this random shade. And it’s not like the last time it was this color was centuries ago. It’s fine. I’m calm. Totally calm. I'm not calm. How the fuck has my hair changed from an aubergine color to silver, of all colors? What is the unholy shit is happening right now? Slowly, I leave the bathroom with eyes as wide as the four Angels’, and nobody speaks for what feels like forever. The silence in the room is deafening, and it seems to become too much for poor Noah, who starts fidgeting before blurting, "I

really like it! It suits you. Like, not in a you're old so your hair should be grey, kind of way. Because it's not grey. And you're not old. Well, you're technically old, but-" "Noah, man. Shut up," Eli groans under his breath, elbowing the Angel besides him without an ounce of subtlety. It does the trick because Noah snaps his mouth shut quickly and avoids eye contact with me while his face flames red in embarrassment. As though my body is walking on autopilot, I move towards the couch and force myself in between Noah and Eli, who both have to shimmy over so my ass can fit on the sofa between them both, and stare at a random spot on the wall for a moment. I think I'm in shock. I've never been in shock before, but I'm pretty sure this is what it would feel like. I'm eighty percent positive. "Peaches, you doing okay over there?" Asher’s rough voice trickles into my brain and my gaze moves to where he's watching my with concern. "My hair is silver," I tell him, pointing out

the already established problem we've all noticed by now. "Yeah, babe. It's silver. But are you okay?" he asks, his voice gravelly but gentle. I can do nothing but stare at him while my mind runs a hundred miles an hour trying to figure out how I went from purple hair to long locks of pure fucking silver. I can’t even muster the giddiness required for receiving the term of endearment. Damn it. "It really does look nice, if that contributes to anything," Noah quietly mumbles, still avoiding eye contact. "I wonder what caused it," Devon questions. It's seems to be the straw that breaks the proverbial camel's back, because I'm instantly launching myself off the couch and pointing an accusing finger at the asshole who has the audacity to look at me in surprise at my sudden movement. "What caused it? What caused it?!" I screech, my voice an uncomfortable pitch that I'm unable to tone down given my worked-up state. "Stress, you fuckhead! You assholes have done nothing but stress be out since the moment you

barged into my life, and look what it's doing. I'm going grey! I look worse than Francis. Even she still has a few strands of her brown hair left!" I clap my hands over my face and grumble incoherently into my hands and throw myself back onto the couch with a bit of dramatic flair. Eli and Noah move quickly before I crush them without remorse. My poor, poor hair. "Flower, it really doesn't look bad. I actually like it." Eli shrugs, because his hair didn't turn silver, so he's allowed to act nonchalant about it. Peeking between my fingers that are still covering my face, I growl, "I'm going to kill you. Each and every one of you." Noah looks at me startled, and his adorable look of panic is the reason I exclude him from my null threat. "Except Noah." He visibly relaxes and I half wonder if he thinks I'll actually follow through with my threat, but I shake it off. He'll learn soon when my threats are idle or not. I let out a long, drawn out sigh before dropping my hands and complain to the four of

them, "This shit needs to stop happening. With the headaches, blackouts, and other crap that keeps turning my life on its axis, I don't know whether I'm coming, going, been or gone." Eli sits back and throws his arm around my shoulders, tugging me closer to his side, while Noah picks up my hand shyly, entwines our fingers and holds it in his lap. This is nice. That is until Devon opens his mouth. "Anyone know what caused her hair to change color or are we going to ignore the problem and hope it goes away?" "I vote for option number two," I chirp with faux enthusiasm before a yawn catches me off guard. Devon gives me an exasperated glare, so I roll my eyes at him and drop my head to Eli's shoulder. He cuddles me closer until I'm practically snuggled up tightly against his side. I don't have the energy for anymore shock, so I burrow myself further into his side and sigh contently when I'm comfortable and warm. Noah doesn't let go of my hand, instead he shuffles over so he sits closer to

me so my arm isn't bent at an awkward angle. Sweetheart. Asher looks like he's on the verge of passing out again, but I ask him gently, "How're you doing, Ash?" One eye blinks open to look at me and tells me, "I'll be good as new before you know it." He doesn't tell me how he is, or if he's still in pain, just settles back into the couch and falls to sleep not long after he's comfortable. "We really need to figure out what the hell just happened. Hair just doesn't change color like that," Devon insists. He's persistent, I'll give him that. No one answers him, each of us looking like the events of the night are finally catching up to us, especially after staying up all night with Asher. Eli rests his head on his fist that's propped up on the arm of the couch. As he slowly drifts off, his head lolls and he snaps to attention, suddenly awake, before resting his head back on his fist again. Noah's head rests on the back of the couch his eyes closed and his mouth slightly parted, looking as

though he's already sound asleep. I can feel my eyes drooping, sleep warming up to claim me as its next victim, but Devon plonks his ass down on the coffee table in front of me and talks. "I promise you can go to sleep as soon as I've asked you some questions. Deal?" His voice is surprisingly soft and gentle, and his offer is reasonable enough, so I shuffle my weight around slightly until I'm facing him properly, but still securely wrapped under Eli's arm. I give him a nod and tell him, "Ask away." Surprising me again, he gives me a small smile before his serious face is back. "Can you tell me what happened before you crashed to the floor and your hair changed?" "I don't really have an explanation, but I'll tell you what I was feeling just before it happened," I offer him, and he's quick to nod his head for me to continue. "It was when you were demanding I go to a safe house, to hide away. I got angry, but it was more than that. Like I had no control over it once the spark of anger was lit. It just kept building and building. I tried to control it, but nothing worked.

I'd never get that angry over something so mundane, but suddenly I was furious and then… nothing. Just bright lights and a headache." He nods along with my explanation even with a furrowed brow that displays his confusion. "Nothing else?" he questions, and I shake my head, giving him an apologetic smile. "Alright. We'll work it out, okay? Get some rest. It looks like you’re a jump, hop and a skip away from passing out." I snort but he's not wrong. I'm suddenly so tired that I could fall asleep standing up. I snuggle further into Eli who tightens his arm around me before relaxing. My eyelids flutter closed, and my breathing slows. Just before I succumb to my exhaustion, I feel Devon lightly grip my calf and rub a soothing hand up and down a couple of times before his touch is gone and I hear him move to the kitchen. Fatigue catches up to me before I can think more of it, and I'm out like a light before I know it.

Eli I don't know what wakes me, but my eyes slowly open to the television on and my ears hear the low volume of whatever movie is playing. I see Asher lying on his stomach exactly where he was when I fell asleep. With that thought, my attention is brought to the Angel sleeping soundly in my lap. Subconsciously, her arm has made its way up my chest and around my neck, her small hands buried in what little hair I have at the back of my head. Her head rests on my shoulder, her face so close to my neck that her lips brush my skin with every inhale she takes. I can't help but notice how perfectly she fits into my body, the way she curls into me when she sleeps or the way her hand seeks out to hold me closer. I've seen her do the same with Asher, but it makes my chest tighten something fierce.

"Quit staring at her. You look like a creep," a low whisper comes from Asher's couch and my gaze swings his way, meeting his dark eyes that seem to be laughing at me. Dick. It's not like he doesn't do it. "Thought you were asleep, you know, considering you're featherless and wounded," I joke, keeping my voice quiet enough that it doesn't wake Luna or Noah, who I've notice is sitting closer to me with Luna's legs in his lap. For reasons unbeknown to me, I don't feel at all jealous with him touching her. I've never shared with anyone but my brother, so I'm a little stunned when no jealousy rises. Just the same as Devon, I realize. Granted, he needs to fix his shitty attitude, but the sparks are there. I’m not normally an observant guy, but I’ve seen the glances he gives her, so I know there’s something there. No idea why he’s hiding it, but each to their own. I predict he’ll cave soon. Luna’s hard to resist. I smile when she snuggles closer and notice Noah’s arms tighten on her legs with the movement. I decide then that as long as he's good

to my girl, I'm cool with it. Same with the whitehaired Angel when he gets over his hang ups. My girl. I quite like the sound of that. I go back to staring at the Angel snuggled up to me and can't help another slow grin that makes its way on to my face. She's definitely mine, and more so now that my brother has decided to fall, essentially taking me with him. Not that I'll have it any differently. I’d have done the same in his position. Wherever he goes, I go. And he's fucking lucky it's right here that I want to go. Right here with my Flower curled up against me like a damn kitten. “Yeah, she has the same effect on me." My brother huffs out a laugh, a rare thing for him, when he catches me looking at her like a lovestruck idiot. I turn my face to look at him again, and smile. I've never seen him stare at a woman the way he stares at her. Looks filled with hunger, want, frustration, care and, dare I say, love. It would make sense if I'm right on the L word assumption, given that he's sacrificed his wings and place in Hell to be with the feisty Angel.

When it's silent for a few beats, I ask him the question that's been weighing on me since I found him lying in a pool of his own blood, Luna's lap covered with the deep red stains, and broken wings lying next to him in a heap on the floor. "Why'd you do it, bro?" my question comes without judgement or anger, just curiosity. I'm intrigued about his reasoning, nothing more. If anything, I'm glad for this turn of events. Not that I'd wish that kind of pain on anyone, and I despise that my brother went through such agony but seeing as though it's given us the opportunity to be with Luna, I'd willingly put myself through it, too. "For her." It's a simple declaration, but the way he watches her sleep, eyes only for her and nothing else around him, I know. He's fallen, and he’s fallen hard. He doesn't need to say the words, I can see it clearly in his eyes and the way his entire being changes around her. The way he yanked her over his shoulder when she came back to us was enough to convince me that my theory was correct. He loves her.

"Why for her? You've never done anything as drastic as falling for a girl before," I goade, putting emphasis on the word falling, knowing he’ll catch the double meaning behind it. Just because I know it, doesn't mean I won't tease him about it or try to drag the confession out of him. He knows better. I can annoy the shit out of him until he spills every last secret to me. Just like he can to me. He gives me a glare, knowing exactly what I'm doing. In return, I give him a shit eating grin because I know he'll cave. And cave, he does. It takes a lot less time that I'd have given him when Luna sighs softly, kisses my neck and settles again. My heartbeat picks up at the touch and I pull her a little closer to my chest, cradling her securely to me. Asher’s eyes come to rest on her again and they immediately soften. Oh yeah, he's definitely in love. He tells me as much after a long, suffering sigh, "I'm in love with the pain in the ass." "Eloquently put, bro. I like your style." I laugh quietly, the shaking of my chest enough to ruse Luna slightly, but not enough to wake her fully.

I do get an agitated sleep filled, "Shut up, Eli", but I just grin at Asher while I refrain from laughing out loud. Asher rolls his eyes at me and falls flat onto his stomach and carries on with his movie, but not before I catch the smile he doesn’t hide quick enough. I watch with him for a little while before the niggle of worry starts to eat at me, thoughts I’ve had since finding my brother broken and bleeding, and I voice my thoughts to Asher, "you know, I was wondering about something. Why hasn't Lucifer stripped my wings, too? He knows you and I are inseparable. Where you are, I am, and vice versa. If he knows it, then why haven't I Fallen yet? I wouldn't ever leave you, so doesn't that make me useless to him?" Asher is quiet while he thinks on it, the movie plays on in the background, but our focus is fully on my troubled thoughts now that I've brought them to light. Some time passes before Asher speaks up quietly, "He does know. I told him as much. He might be biding his time. Lucifer is cunning and

ruthless. I wouldn't put it passed him to use it to his advantage. We'll have to be weary and on guard. I don't doubt that he's planning something, especially if you didn't Fall within minutes of me." He voices my worry perfectly. Lucifer knows. Ever since Asher and I became a pair, we haven't left each other's side. We've seen everything together and been through hell and highwater stood side by side. Blood doesn't matter. Our bond is one related brothers would envy. We're as close as two brothers could get. And I'm sure as shit that Satan will use that knowledge and wield it to his advantage. He has something planned up his sleeve. We just need to be alert and keep are guards up at all times. Deciding to leave the conversation where it is before my mood sours, I ask Asher, "From the look on Luna's face after we dragged your heavy ass downstairs, I take it you declared your undying love for her?" His face snaps to mine, and he groans when the movement pulls at his wounds. Through clenched teeth, he tells me, "Pretty much. Told her

I was falling for her." "What did she say?" "Looked at me like I'd started speaking another language to her." He snorts, not seeming too perplexed by her reaction. "And that didn't bother you?" I ask in confusion. He gives me a rare smirk before explaining. "She knows I said it, but she's likely putting it down to me being in pain and my mouth running away from me instead of being lucid enough to tell her I’m falling in love with her stubborn ass. I'm not bothered that she didn't say it back, because I know she's feeling the same." Then he turns and leaves it at that. "Excuse me, dickwad, I need more explanation than that. You don't have the ability to read minds, so how the shit can you tell she feels the same way?" "You don't pay very much attention, brother." He snickers, but he explains when I practically glare a whole into his head. "It's in the way she does stuff or acts. When I Fell? If she

didn't feel anything for me, she wouldn't have been in tears and cussing me out while also singing and sharing her power to spare me pain. She stayed right by my side the entire time. Any time she thought I was suffering, she'd run her hands through my hair while humming, trying to comfort me the best way she knew how. I may have been unconscious, but every now and then I’d come to briefly and catch her singing or the feel of her hands in my hair." He's watching Luna again while he talks, and a small smile comes to his face while he talks. "Before that, it's the way she looks at me. She may want to throttle me most of the time, and vice versa, but the way she watches me when she thinks I'm not looking is the same way I watch her. The thoughtful shit she does without really thinking about it, like letting us stay here when she didn't know us from Adam. That's how I know. She's just scared to feel it right now, and to hear the words spoken to her. I can't imagine she's heard them before, unless the old lady at the coffee shop has said them to her."

He goes quiet again, back to watching the television while I ponder on his explanation. I feel a sudden sense of envy for my brother, knowing that he's comfortable enough to know that he doesn't have to worry about how she feels for him, because he can just tell. The observant fucker has always had a knack for reading people. I don't have the patience. My people reading skills are subpar in comparison, which puts me at a disadvantage with Luna. At the risk of starting a pity party for one, I half question if I'm just the tag along, someone she tolerates out of a sense of decency. It's ridiculous, but the niggle of doubt lingers. He must notice my internal struggle when he huffs out a laugh and tells me, "If you paid enough attention, you'd see she's the same with you." Now that has my attention. "What do you mean?" I question hesitantly which causes an eyebrow to raise on his head. I know what he's thinking; it's rare I'm ever hesitant about anything, but Luna has me in knots over everything and anything. I'm just good at hiding it.

"She bought us gifts, Eli. Thoughtful as fuck gifts because she knew we'd like them. She barely knew us, and she knew exactly what to buy us, and for no reason at all. She laughs when you make stupid jokes or say something you think she'll find funny. Genuine laughter, not that fake shit to try and appease you. When you smile at her, she smiles like she can't help it. When she watches you talk, it’s always with a cute smile on her face that she doesn’t even realize is there. She doesn't brush off your advances, kisses you back and returns your hugs. She's in your lap right now, is she not?" And sure enough, the bastard is right. For a broody, terrifying mother fucker, he sure is good at this shit. And I don't have it in me to take the piss out of him for it because he just handed me a lifeline that I'm all too eager to hold on to. She likes me as much as Asher. Fuck yes. I'll be damned again if I don't hold her that little bit closer and snuggle into her warm body some more while I have an internal fist bump with myself, grinning like I just won a prize at the

carnival. I hear Asher snicker again, probably seeing the dopey grin I can't get rid of, but I pay him no mind, opting to fall asleep with my Angel in my arms and happy thoughts in my head.

Luna The next morning, I wake up sprawled over Noah's lap with Eli hugging my bent legs to his chest. Weird, I’m sure I fell asleep in Eli’s lap. Someone must have put a blanket over us because I'm toasty warm and too comfortable to get up and start the day. Instead, I snuggle deeper into Noah's chest and feel him squeeze his arms around me tightly. "Are you going to sleep all day, or did you have a plan to wake up and do something? Like, I don't know, figure out the mystery behind your changing hair?" Devon asks from behind the couch, leaning his hip on the back of the furniture with a mug in one hand and his other arm crossed over his chest. I groan softly into Noah's shirt before popping one eye open and see a smirk on the

Angels face. With a rough, sleepy voice I complain, "It's too early for your shit. Go bug Asher." Closing my eyes, I prepare myself to spend another few hours cocooned in warmth and wrapped around two bodies that are holding me snugly. Before I can nod off again, the blanket is quickly stripped from my body and a shiver runs up my spine with the chill that attacks any bare skin it can find. "You asshole," I growl, glaring at the smug looking bastard who's stealthily moved around the couch and holds the fluffy blanket that I have the strongest urge to snatch back from him, but he holds it too far out of reach so I’ll be forced to get up if I want the blanket back. Bastard. Sadly for me, my Angel pillows wake up the same moment, groaning in protest and cussing Devon out for literally ripping the warmth away. Noah comes to slowly, but when he does, he notices I'm half way in his lap, wrapped around him like an octopus. He blushes, but surprises me when he gives me a cuddle, making no move to get up. Eli has a different plan. Before I know it,

I'm snatched up from my comfy spot and deposited back in a different lap. Eli's arms come around me tightly, but not enough to suffocate. Just enough that I can't escape. He nuzzles his face into my neck and I quickly decide that sitting in his lap is fine with me, especially when his breath tickles the nape of my neck and causes an all body shiver. His arms tighten a fraction, and his hoarse, sleep filled voice whispers in my ear, "Morning, Flower." He gives me a soft kiss on my shoulder before lifting us both off the couch. With the movement, more cold air hits me. Mornings can suck my lady balls. Why are they always cold? Even in the Summer, waking up is hell because of the chill in the air. I don't like being cold. At all. When the cold causes goosebumps to break out over my skin, I wrap myself around Eli, trying to absorb the heat that always seems to come off him. He's like a walking, talking, breathing furnace. My legs wrap around his waist, my arms around his shoulders and I shove my face into his neck. He inhales sharply when my cold nose touches bare skin, but he doesn't move away from the contact.

I don't bother asking where we're going and realize we've all completely ignored Devon... again. He's going to grow a complex or something the more we ignore him. I feel bad for a moment, until he says, "Ignore me all you like, we're getting to the bottom of it. Today." Go away, jackass. Can't he see I'm cold and tired and trying to ignore him? "He sees it, Flower. But he's ignoring it the way you're ignoring him," Eli tells me, humor lacing his words. Huh, must have said that out loud. I don't respond to his words, instead blurting out, "How the fuck are you so warm?" His body jerks with laughter, but his toned arms wrapped around me keep me secured to his chest. As though sharing top government secrets, he whispers, "Magic." Har-har, Dick. I give him a poke in the side with my finger that has him flinching and laughing, and when I go to do it again, he gives me an actual answer. "Seriously, magic. It's one of my powers. I was

blessed with Fire Magic. I wield magic with anything to do with heat, fire and all that hot shit. Turns me into a living heater, I guess." He gives me a broad grin, dimples and all, which has me grinning back like an idiot. I need to figure out how he has the ability to make me smile when he does. Although I’m a little surprised that he willingly told me about one of his gifts, I settle back down, laying my head on his shoulder before asking, "Where are we going?" In lieu of an answer, I'm plonked down onto the freezing cold counter in my kitchen. I yelp in surprise with draws a laugh from the red-haired Angel now in front of me that bears the brunt of my scowl. "Here. Put that under her ass before it freezes off," comes another delicious voice from behind Eli. How the hell did I miss Asher creeping up behind him? And what the fuck is he doing up? He should be resting. I'm lifted promptly and a different blanket is placed under my cold tushy, and then I'm deposited back onto the counter, safe from the unyielding

cold of the marble slabs. Let it be known that marble counters are not meant for sitting on when it’s cold unless your ass and legs are covered. When I'm settled, I give Asher a hard stare. "What the hell are you doing walking around? You should be resting, you giant oaf." "Morning to you to, peaches," he returns with one of his rare smiles, completely bypassing my demand. He ignores my incredulous stare and leans around Eli to give me a kiss that has my mind turning to mush. He pulls back a little so only his lips are just about brushing mine and tells me, "I'm fine, just aching a little. Nothing I can't handle. You're cute when you're trying to be stern, though." He walks away, leaving me sitting there dumbfounded. Eli snickers at the look on my face but holds out a mug of coffee for me to take. It snaps me out of whatever state Asher left me in, and I greedily snatch the goods from his outstretched hand. Eli leans closer, parting my legs to stand between them while I take a long pull of the hot

liquid without a care that I've probably burnt a few taste buds in the process. He takes a sip of his own drink before hooking a strong arm behind me and lifts. My legs wrap around him reflexively, one arm wrapping around his neck while the hand holding my coffee tightens with an iron like grip as not to spill my drink. The shock must be evident on my face, but he only laughs again, holding his mug in one hand and his other cupped under my ass to keep me in place. He carries me like it's nothing, no strain or struggle, and walks to the bookshelf, randomly picking books from the very many that lines the shelves and putting them back when they don't take his fancy. Once he's happy with his choice, he moves us back to his abandoned seat on the couch and gently settles us down, arranging me so my side is leaning into his chest and the book rests in my lap at an angle we can both read at. What's going on? He's a lot more touchy feely than normal, not that I'm complaining. He can be as touchy feely as he likes. But curiosity rears its head, and I'm intrigued as to what's shifted to the

point where he's carrying me around like he doesn't want to part with me. I stare suspiciously at him for a moment, but he chooses to avoid the look, focusing on the cover of the book he picked out. "Okay, what gives? Why are you carrying me around and being cute?" I cave and ask him upfront, never once looking away from his face. Asher is lying on the long couch again, watching a movie it seems. I can hear the shower going, so I'm going to assume Noah is in the bathroom and Devon sits on the other end of the couch from me, seeming to be as engrossed in the movie as Ash. I feel like I've entered the Twilight zone. Things feel normal. Too normal. What's going on? Eli doesn't answer, so I decide to freshen up. Lifting myself from his lap with a huff, much to his annoyance, I place my mug down on the coffee table and make my way upstairs to my bathroom. I take a quick shower, relaxed under the hot stream of water. Once I'm done, I wrap a fluffy towel around myself and I brush my teeth whilst glaring at my new hair color in the mirror above the sink

before brushing the silver locks until they’re untangled and rest on my back and stopping just passed my waist. I don’t bother blow drying it, because it’ll dry unnaturally fast and will sport the loose waves I prefer when it’s dry. I bypass makeup and head into my room and straight to my closet where I drop the towel and shimmy on fresh underwear and matching bra. I'm halfway through pulling a pair of black leggings up my legs when there's a knock at the door. I call, "Just a sec," but my visitor mustn't have heard me from my closet. I hear the door open and just as I'm pulling my leggings over the round curve of my ass, Devon's face pops into view. When he spots me in my shirtless glory, no doubt catching the end of my accidental show, he comes to an abrupt halt. His eyes rake over my shirtless torso, his gaze lingering on my lace covered breasts a little longer than appropriate. Although, the way his pupils have dilated and the hunger in his gaze, I'd say he's passed appropriate. I have no qualms about being partly naked.

I gave up with being shy a long, long time ago, so I stand there with my hands on my hips, waiting for him to finish his languid perusal of my body while I look on in amusement. For someone who acts like he doesn't much care for me, he's taking his sweet ass time looking over inch of exposed skin and the tight fabric around my legs. "If you're done checking me out, want to tell me what you need?" My voice breaks him out of his staring match with my nipples that are visible through the wine-colored lace that covers them. His yes snap up to mine, and I don't even try to hide the cheeky grin and amused look on my face. I'm blessed with a blushing Devon when he realizes he spent an indecent amount of time raking his eyes over my partly dressed form. "S-sorry, I thought you'd be clothed," he stutters while my amusement notches up a few pegs. I think this is the first time I've seen Devon flustered. It kind of makes me want to make it my mission to get him in a stuttering state more often and brand it my new form of entertainment. "Well, I am partly. I did call out to give me a

sec, but clearly I didn't call out loud enough," I tell him with a shit eating grin that I really can't help. He clears his throat, and does so again, until he can talk without a rasp that I suspect is desire. Hm, interesting. He rubs a hand over the back of the neck while he continues to blush, so I take pity on him, turning my back to him and search for my favorite sweater. I hear Devon sigh in relief when he's no longer exposed to my girls, and I snicker under my breath. I find my cream-colored sweater and pull it on over my head. The neckline is large enough that the left side falls off my shoulder, displaying my tattoos in bold fashion. They stand out more underneath the light-colored fabric and I show them off proudly. The rest of the sweater is loose and baggy and stops just under the cheeks of my ass. If I twist quickly, the material will flare out around me. It's the comfiest thing I own. When I turn back around, Devon has busied himself looking through the clothes that line the one side of my closet. He looks back to me when I move closer, making him shuffle backwards until

we're both outside the closet and standing far too close to one another. His breath catches when I move closer to shut the door behind me, my chest just a mere inch from touching his. I've no idea why he doesn't move further back. Another interesting development. "So, what did you need?" I ask, still sporting a smile that's showing off my straight pearly whites. "Right. I wanted to, uh, ask if you've felt any different since whatever it was that happened last night. If anything else has changed or something feels...off?" he asks, slightly unsure of himself but determined to push on as though he didn't just barge in on me mid-dress. "Nope," I tell him with a pop at the end of the word. "I feel the exact same as I usually do. Nothing out of the ordinary. But I'll tell you as soon as it does." He eyes me wearily, narrowing his stunning green eyes at me as though he doesn't trust me to tell him as soon as something doesn't feel right. To appease him, I lift my hand and draw a cross over my chest, and tell him, "I swear to tell you if I begin

to feel different or if anything changes with me." He watches the glow fade into my skin, and he seems happy enough with my promise, nodding and giving me another unusual smile. What's gotten into these guys today, seriously? Shaking my head with a bemused smile, I squeeze myself from between Devon and the door to my closet. I walk out of my room, the confusing Angel close to my heels. We both make out way down the stairs and split up once we reach the downstairs. He heads to the spare room while I shuffle my way towards Eli and ungracefully throw myself onto his lap like I did the day we went to Frenchie's together. His breath leaves him with an oomph that has me snorting, but he just hooks his arm around me and gets me to settle into him until I'm comfortable. He picks the book from besides him and plonks it in my lap expectantly. Before I open the book, however, I innocently tell him, "you're going to have to tell me why you're being even more touchy feely than normal and all adorable and shit or you'll find yourself with another set of blue

balls. I won't be so gracious this time, and leave you hanging worse than before." Asher muffles his surprised laugh into the cushion underneath his head, and even with Noah's face flaming red, he snickers into his hand. I turn to face the Angel now glaring at me like I'm the Devil, and I give him my best smile that has him trying to stop his from forming. Check mate.

Luna “I don't think my actions need to be questioned at this particular moment in time," he tells me, shoving his face in my neck and blowing raspberries on my bare skin. I snort, because one; that tickled, but I'm trying to get him to explain what's going on, so giving him the laugh that had been building in my chest is out of the question. Two; his actions very much so need to be questioned. Don't get me wrong, I'm on board with this Eli who can't seem to keep his hands off me, but I'm curious by nature. I mean, hello? I Fell and landed my ass on Earth because of my goddamned curiosity. “You're not going to tell me?" I ask him sweetly, batting my eyelashes at him and pursing my lips, hoping my sad, pathetic look will make him cave and spill his secrets. It backfires. Instead, his

eyes flick to my lips that I've over exaggeratedly pushed out. With my back resting against his chest, I feel the quick inhale he takes. I see his pupils dilate and a look of hunger flashes in his eyes. I must make a noise of some sort, because his eyes move back to mine. After a moment of staring at each other, he leans his head closer and closer until his nose brushes mine and his breath whispers over my lips with seductive secrets. He hesitates for only a fraction of a second, but he must be taking my normal 'fuck it' approach and before I know it, his soft lips are on mine. Gone is our surroundings, the other three Angels milling around the room, and the curiosity. It's just Eli and me for the delicious moment. His kiss is slow and deliberate, while his hand creeps up towards my hair to hold me in place, tilting it at an angle so he can deepen the already toe-curling kiss. His tongue glides over my lower lip, asking an unspoken question and I'm all too eager to allow him entry. My lips part and our kiss becomes hotter, causing a quickly becoming familiar ache at the apex of my thighs.

Sadly, things don't escalate further. An obnoxious cough sounds from just behind the couch where Eli and I sit, and I know the sound all too well to know that Devon the Dick is causing a clito-ference. Some people are incredibly inconsiderate at times like these. "If playing tonsil tennis at this particular moment will gain answers to your magical hair color change, by all means, continue. But I can't imagine you're going to find answers with your tongues halfway down one another's throats. So, if you'll be so kind to knock it the fuck off so we can figure out if we should be worried or not, I'd be eternally grateful," the jackass berates, a little too snidely for my liking. I begrudgingly move away from Eli's intoxicating mouth to glare at the Angel that had the nerve to become my personal version of a road block for my vagina. When my aggravated gaze meets his, I'm greeted with eyes that hold three prominent emotions: desire, frustration and irritation. The first of which disappears quicker than a flash, and I don't have the mentality to

question it right now. The frustration and irritation remain, however, even with the annoying smirk that's made itself onto his face. Why the Hell is he frustrated? You don't see me cockblocking him! "How can you tell? Maybe Eli's lips hold the answers to the mystery of the silver hair," I mock, because being a taco blocko deserves sarcasm and smartass replies. "You're not funny." He deadpans, not even a twitch to indicate that he's secretly harboring his amusement. I've seen him accidentally smile before, so I know it's there. He's just being an asshole for the sake of it. I can feel Eli's body shaking, and I look over to see him suppressing his laughter which causes me to grin like I've just won a trophy. "Ah, quite the contrary. Eli finds me hilarious, because he's turning red from bottling his laughter right now." Devon rolls his eyes, but he doesn't back down. Brave man. Or stupid? "I find it hard to believe he's laughing because you're funny. He's probably just humoring

you so he can get into your pants." Oh, low blow, sir. Low. Blow. Is that a hint of jealousy I hear? “Green really is your color, but this particular shade of jealous doesn't suit you." I smirk, which has his eyes narrowing on me dangerously. "But regardless of the status of my pants, I happen to be a humorous Angel. And you know why, Devon dear?" His eyes narrow that little bit more until I can barely see the whites of his eyes, but he takes the bait. "And why would that be, Princess?" "Because I don't have a mighty big stick lodged up my ass," I explain, smiling sweetly at him. Smiling triumphantly when he curses under his breath, shakes his head and moves towards the kitchen, I claim my victory with a middle finger salute while he walks away. My pettiness knows no bounds. "You're going to piss him off to the point that he explodes, peaches," Asher warns halfheartedly from where he's lying on the couch again. He's moving around more, but still keeps pressure off his back because I know those wounds

are still tender. I nod and tell him, "I'm sure I will, but I'll do it on principle alone at this point." Eli snickers before giving me a kiss on my bare shoulder before speaking. "We really should get to the bottom of your hair change, though." He grins at my long, suffering sigh, but he's hustling me off his lap before I can protest. "Why am I being evacuated from your lap if we're trying to suss out my silver hair? Weren’t we going to read?" I ask with a small pout. I was comfy, damn it. Eli blesses me with another dimpled smile and I almost forget the conversation at hand. He walks towards the door where the shoe stand sits to the side, slips his black vans on while leaning on the wall before returning to stand in front of me. "Because we're going on an adventure." I try not to laugh, but it's a futile attempt. His English accent is nothing short of terrible, and his Bilbo impression is even worse. I roll my eyes at him with a smile before facing Asher, who's already sitting up on the couch and sliding his boots on.

"Should you be going on adventures with us what with your back?" I question, moving towards him while he finishes tying his boots. He braces himself to haul himself up from the couch, but my hands shoot out almost as though they have a mind of their own. Asher looks at them curiously before he realizes I'm offering him a hand, or in this case, two. His hesitates for a brief second but places his large hands in my smaller ones, his fingers wrapping securely around my knuckles, and he braces himself again. Before we heave the giant out of his seat, I hum softly under my breath, sending calming emotions through the tune and feel Asher relax almost immediately. When I feel like he's prepared, I pull while he pushes from the couch. We manage to get him standing with only a small groan, but I'm calling it a win. As soon as he's standing, he cups my face and kisses me gently. He whispers, "Thank you, peaches," across my lips before placing his mouth on mine again. I might whimper a little when he pulls away, but I shake my head of the lust filled

fog these guys manage to cause. "In answer to your question, I'll be fine. I'm just sore and achy, but I'll live." I give him my best unimpressed look, but I'm interrupted when Noah walks into the room freshly showered, hair slightly damp and fully clothed. His t-shirt fits snugly to his lean frame, and his jeans hug his thighs is the best way possible. "Quit drooling," is whispered in my ear, and I face Asher with another roll of my eyes. "Shut up," I grumble, and not so subtly wipe my mouth in case I had been drooling. Looking at Asher, I realize he didn't sound the least bit jealous with his teasing words, and it has me questioning how we haven't discussed what the hell is going on with him and Eli. Neither one is jealous of the other, and both have displayed affection for me, sometimes right in front of each other. I haven't pointed it out because they've never seemed to give any hostile reactions to the other kissing me or having me sitting in their lap. Curiosity killed the cat, or whatever, but I'm suddenly intrigued as to why they don't seem

affected with whatever is going on with our merry band of misfits. "I can hear the gears turning in your head, peaches. Talk to me," he gently requests. I pause, before deciding that blurting the first thing that comes to my mind is the best course of action. "Why aren't you jealous when Eli kisses me or vice versa?" He looks stunned before a beautiful, rare smile blossoms over his face. My breath catches and my heartbeat stutters like it does when Eli grins at me with those damn dimples of his. Leaning in as though he's going to tell me the secret to the universe, he whispers, "We like to share." It's my turn to look stunned when he leans back with a smirk. Because my finesse has fucked off somewhere for, far away, I continue to blurt, "What the shit?" He tries to cover his smirk with a wipe of his hand over his mouth, and when he's composed enough, he tells me, "We've always shared. Comes as natural as breathing. We've never shared with

anyone else, but I don't mind adding one or two more to the club." His eyes drift to Noah, who's pulling on a zip up sweater and gives me a cute smile when he spots me staring. I return his smile before I turn to face Asher, who's looking at me with knowing eyes. When I can't think of anything to say, I repeat, "Shut up," before walking towards my black converse by the door with his deep laughter trailing after me. What the hell is he talking about; two? If he means Devon, then he's still delusional. Poor guy. I shove my feet into my shoes, snatch a black scarf from my coat hook and pick up my black purse from the entry table. Turning to face Eli who's leaning on the back of the couch watching me, I ask, "So, where's this adventure?" With one word, he has me grinning like an idiot and raring to start our journey. "Frenchie's." *** We arrive at my best friend’s coffee shop in

no time, despite our efforts to walk slow for Asher's sake. We decided the best way to get from point A to B was by the use of our legs. I didn't think Asher would be keen on folding himself in half to fit inside my car, so walking was the next best option. Devon decided to join us, so all five of us clamber through the door to Ms Frenchie's store and out of the cold air that has me mentally kicking myself for forgoing a jacket despite Devon repeatedly suggesting I take one. I refuse to give him the satisfaction that he was right, however, and have hidden my shivers from him. If the tiny smirk he's worn for the last half of our journey was anything to go by, I didn't hide it well. "Francis, I've missed you and your cookies! Reign down on me with your sugary treats and wise cracks about whatever takes your fancy today," I call across the room when I spot Ms. Frenchie's head rising from behind the counter, gaining a few unpleasant looks from the customers quietly sipping their beverages or reading. She gives me an exasperated huff, before pausing and calling out, "What the fresh hell

happened to your hair?" Before I can answer, Eli replies, "She's sensitive about the color. Her age is catching up to her." "You asshole," I growl before lunging for him, but he's moved too far out of my way to catch him, laughing openly. I glare at him while he walks backwards to my chair without bumping into anything and settles down. I give him a gesture that blatantly tells him I'm going to murder him when I get my hands on him and face my dear Ms. Frenchie who's staring at me like my skin turned green and I've grown horns from my head. "Loony Toon, are you going through a phase?" she asks, sounding like a concerned Grandma instead of my best friend. I roll my eyes before grunting in all of my unladylike glory, "Something like that."

Luna "So, silver, huh?" my best friend questions while I lean against the counter with my forearms laid out in front of me. "Yup. I, uh, had the sudden urge for a change." Omitting the truth for Ms. Frenchie's sanity has been something I've done since she bothered her way into my life. Although she knows something isn't quite right with me, an obvious fact from the way I've not grown old and wrinkly liker her, she doesn't ask questions and I keep a lot to myself to protect her, in a sense. She's a light in my life. I'm not going to risk the old bat becoming unhinged now, especially after forty years’ worth of protecting under my belt. I've worked too hard for my bestie to go crazy now. "Right, sure," she drawls like she doesn't believe me, but drops it anyway. "You want to talk

about the cuties that escorted you inside?" "Do I have to?" I ask her with another roll of my eyes, something I'm doing a lot of lately. If I roll my eyes any harder, they'll sure to get stuck at the back of my damn head. Ms. Frenchie gives me one of those looks that tells me she'll taint my cookies with laxatives if I don't spill at least one secret. The bitch has done it before, so it's no mere idle threat. Ruthless senior. "Francis, didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to poke your nose in other people's business?" I exclaim with dramatic fashion, clutching a hand to my chest and stepping away from the counter. One grey eyebrow raises on her head and I laugh heartily at the unamused expression she wears. "You are my business, smartass. So, explain the hotties sitting in my store." I blink at her, and blink again. "Hotties? Francis, my dear. Since when did you become a cougar? This is information you tell your best friend." "Would you lower your tone. I don't need people thinking I'm chasing after men that are half

my age," she hisses and swats me playfully with the tea towel that had been slung over her cardigan covered shoulder. "Anyway, I'm old, not dead. I can appreciate a good-looking guy or four. Now explain why they're in my store and in your corner. And please explain why you haven't killed the handsome redhead who's lounging in your chair." I give her a big grin before partly explaining. "I'm sure you remember the handsome redhead and the mountain of a man opposite him. I mean, your traitorous ways wouldn't allow you to forget." She snorts very unladylike, but I continue, "The other two are new... friends? I met them a couple of days ago and we bonded over books?" Why my sentences are ending like questions, I couldn't tell you. I've always been good at hiding certain things from Ms. Frenchie, but it seems I'm having a difficult time lying through my damn teeth right now. "Okay, I'll accept that," she humors me with her acceptance, but I'll take what I can get. "Are you, you know..." Her faded eyebrows raise

comically a couple of times, clearly asking if I'm getting my freak on with one of the guys. I take the opportunity to dish some payback for when she allowed Eli and Asher into her coffee shop like the matchmaking pain in the ass she is. I gasp with over exaggerated outrage before proclaiming, "Francis, you saucy devil! I'll not answer such questions. Conversations pertaining my vagina and its nightly activities will remain a secret. You naughty, naughty woman!" When I'm satisfied she couldn't get any redder, and she's lifting her always freezing cold hands to her cheeks to cool them down some, I give her the biggest grin I could manage, and lean close before whispering, "That's for your traitorous ways. Payback, Francis. You should have seen it coming." I move out of the way quickly, dodging the tea towel that's flying towards me again, and laugh while I back away from the counter. Before I turn, I call out, "I'll have my usual coffee plus two more, two teas and cookies, please, you wonderful woman. Minus the laxatives, however. You're not allowed to retaliate to a retaliation. It's in the rules."

"We didn't set rules, you heathen!" she calls out behind me when I turn around with my grin intact and stride to my corner of the room where the guys are all relaxed and lounging around. Eli snatches my hand when I get close enough and pulls me into his lap, leaning his mouth close enough to my ear to purr, "What nightly activities is your vagina participating in and can I join?" I should really stop encouraging him, but I can't help the loud laugh that bursts from me with his whispered words. I laugh so much that tears from in my eyes. My laughter must be infectious, because Eli's face in tucked into my neck while he chuckles, Asher is smiling at me, Devon is trying to hide his smile behind his hand and Noah is giggling along with me. I calm down enough so I can breathe without inhaling that sounds like a donkey braying and wipe away the tears that fell. I turn my head and give Eli a quick kiss before admitting, "I needed that more than you know." He gives me a wink before settling us in my

chair, hooking his arm tighter around my waist. When the laughter tapers off we all just sit around the quaint coffee table in comfortable silence. Ms. Frenchie shuffles across with our orders, and I narrow my eyes in reprimand. "Why didn't you call me, you stubborn woman. I would have come to you once the drinks were done." "I still have the ability to carry things, Loony Toon," she answers back, but I can see the appreciation in her gaze at my worry. I roll my eyes before leaning forward to help her deposit the drinks and plate of cookies onto the table. "Minus laxatives, right?" I whisper, watching the woman suspiciously. She laughs, before answering me. "Minus laxatives. I'll get you back some other way, though." The calculating look on her face is a little concerning, but I give her a quick kiss to the cheek in thanks when she leans down to place the last giant mug on the table. With a sweet smile, she shuffles back towards the counter to serve a young man standing there.

Turning my attention to my hot beverage, I rip three packets of sugar and pour them in my cup. What? I like my caffeine sweet. I then tear two more and pour them in Eli’s cup, and skip Asher’s. I slide their mugs towards them and turn to the tea, adding two sweeteners to the one and one to the other, sliding them in Noah and Devon’s direction. When I'm done, I lift the cookies, place them on my lap and settle back down. When it's still silent and no one has said a word, I look up from my baked goods and find each of the guys staring at me in surprise. "What?" I ask, popping a piece of double chocolate chip cookie in my mouth and sighing delightfully as the flavor blesses my taste buds. "You know how everyone takes their drinks?" Asher asks in wonderment. I give him a confused frown before telling him, "Yeah, why? I pay attention, is all." I shrug it off and turn back to my cookies, but not before I miss the look Asher gives Eli, who likely returns it. I ignore their little moment in favor of my cookies, because they need more attention

than the Angels giving one another secret looks. "Can we start working out our mystery now?" Devon asks a little impatiently, not that I can blame him. He has been ignored since it happened. "Sure," I tell him with a mouth full of cookie. "Start the inquiry you've been itching to give me since my locks of purple disappeared." I hear him sigh with relief, and then Detective Devon is on me like white on rice, "I know you don't feel any different, because you'd have told me, but can you think of anything that could have caused it?" I think on it a moment, munching away slowly. I go to shake my head, until the memory of the kidnapping at the cemetery blooms inside my head. Looking at Devon with slightly wide eyes, I tell him, "when I was kidnapped at the cemetery, it was by guys who all looked the same. I was put on some marble altar and they'd surrounded me, chanting something I couldn't understand. Then there was fire, and everything hurt before I passed out and woke up next to my statue again." Devon's eyebrows draw down in confusion,

and he's quiet while he thinks it over. The others are all solemn and serious, each one lost in their thoughts while they ponder on my confession. "Can you tell me anything about where they took you? Explain maybe what they looked like?" Devon questions. "They all looked the same; gold plated armor, perfectly styled hair but I can't remember for the life of me what color. They didn't talk, but the one that carried me made a noise at one point and, as strange as it is to say, it was a very musical grunt. And they all looked really perfect. Their faces we're too pretty and not one of them had a blemish or freckle in sight," I explain before describing where they took me, "the place I was carted off to was cold and damp; likely underground. There was a long entry way that looked like it had seen better days. Then there was a large room that was completely the opposite. It's as though it has been newly renovated. Everything was clean and, well, perfect. There was the large slab of marble, the altar they put me on, and I remember seeing a wooden cross and Jesus on the

wall and candles. So many candles." Devon is silent again, just like the others, but I watch him closely. Something resonated with him with my explanation, because now he looks a little more worried than confused. His hands are clenched together while his elbows rest on his knees. As though they timed it perfectly, Noah and Devon's heads snap up and they both look at one another with panic plastered over their faces. "What? What's that look? I don't like that look." I stumble over my words while I discard my cookies and shuffle myself to sit on the edge of Eli's lap. Devon turns his face so he's looking directly at me but says nothing. He looks at me with concern, his green eyes troubled. Noah looks at me, back to Devon and then me again. With one single word, he has me entire body turning to stone and my heart beating erratically in my chest. "Sentinels." "What the fuck are Sentinels?" I hear Asher ask with his gruff tone. "And why the fuck has Luna frozen on my

lap? What's going on?" Eli asks directly after his brother. My ability to give them answers has been masked by the shock and sudden panic with that one word alone and what it could mean for us. Noah, my hero, explains to them why the three out of five of us are suddenly tense and anxious. "Sentinels are Beings of God. They're essentially glorified warriors, but they're brutal. When most of the Angels chose their sides, and more seemed to side with Lucifer, He created the Sentinels to protect Heaven and battle those who rebelled. They're ruthless killers if the need calls for it. They only obey Him, abide by His rules and no one else." I hadn't realized I'd turned my head to watch Noah explain to Ash and Eli, but when I finally get control over my body again, I flicker my eyes between Asher and Elijah, and watch the exact moment they realize what the rest of us have already gathered. "So that means..." comes from Eli, his grip tightening on my waist. "God sent his Sentinels after Luna," Asher

finishes. We all go deadly silent while our revelation sinks in, and my heart continues to thunder in my chest. I finally shake off my stone like state and ask, "what are we going to-" Before I can finish my sentence, however, there's a loud bang that comes from the front of the store and the distinct sound of glass shattering. In seconds, I'm on the floor with Eli's firm body above mine, while Asher glues himself to my one side. Noah takes up the opposite side of my body and Devon is smart enough to pull the coffee table up so it acts like a shield when, not seconds later, shards of the broken glass window that was housed at the entire front of the store is raining down on us.

Noah As soon as the glass has settled around us, I lift my head from where it had been tucked against Luna's, protecting her from the sharp pieces of window that just blew up everywhere. When I'm sitting up right, and dust from where the glass had been uprooted from the wall has settled, I find myself suddenly feeling sick to my stomach as panic seizes me on the spot. Outside of the store, littering the road and walkways, are Hellspawn. Mouths gaping, teeth proudly on display in all of their deathly glory, stand dozens upon dozens of feral Demons, each with a nasty glint of sheer hunger for blood in their eyes. The others lift themselves from the floor and behind the coffee table, only to find the exact same thing I've spotted. Every human inside has

fled, leaving the place empty other than us five, as far as I can see. "Fuck," comes Luna's whispered voice directly next to where I kneel behind the still overturned coffee table, voicing the exact word I had in mind. "What the hell are they doing here?" Asher growls, looking over just how many that stand outside unmoving, as though they're waiting for one wrong move until they pounce. "They're here for Luna," Devon responds with a voice like steal and thunder rolled into one. I look over to where he stands a little to the left of me and a foot or two in front of where I stand. When he turns his head to face us, it sends a shiver of dread up my spine, because that look tells me he knows we're surrounded and are the equivalent of sitting ducks. His eyes blaze with restrained fury and when he looks at Luna, who's still staring at the Hellspawn outside, worry breaks through his anger. The air around us turns eerily still, a bone chilling silence washing over everyone while we stand still, waiting for them to make their move.

"Luna?" a voice behind the counter calls out. If I'm hearing that voice properly, that's Ms. Frenchie hiding behind there. Shit. "Francis? What the fuck are you playing at?!" Luna calls out loud enough for Ms. Frenchie to hear, but not enough that it triggers the Hellspawn into action. Her voice shakes with horror, and her face has gone ghostly pale, her wide eyes turning to watch Ms. Frenchie lift herself from behind the thick counter she'd been shielded by. "Luna, I need an explanation this time." Her words shake as they leave her mouth, conveying her fright. "Francis, I need you to duck back behind the counter, crawl to the back room and to your apartment. Lock the doors and fucking hide, you hear me? I'll explain when everything is safe again, but right now, you need to get your wrinkly ass out of here and hide," Luna explains as calmly as she can, but the worry for her friend is evident in the way her hands clench at her sides to stop them from trembling. I watch as Ms. Frenchie ducks behind the

counter, out of view of the Hellspawn that wait patiently outside to tear us apart. I keep watching where Ms. Frenchie should need to crawl passed the gap between the counter and wall. I'm still watching when I witness her face turn into one of horror when the door she's just crawled towards doesn't open. "Loony Toon, I don't mean to alarm you, but the door won't open so my great escape is slightly hindered," Ms. Frenchie calls from back behind the counter. "Fuck," Luna curses under her breath. She takes a deep inhale before facing me with a determined gleam in her eyes. That's a look I really don't want to see when there's bloodthirsty monsters standing just on the other side to where a window once sat. "Luna, if you're thinking of doing what I think you have planned, please, I'm begging you, don't do it," I plead, reaching out a hand towards her for... well, I'm really not sure, but my anxiety is rising at the prospect of her getting hurt, or worse, killed.

With wide eyes, she flickers her gaze between my hand and where Ms. Frenchie sits behind the counter, looking torn between wanting to do as I asked and wanting to protect her best friend. From the look on her face, I think I just lost this battle. "I'm sorry, she needs me." But before I can stop her or say anything to prevent her from leaving my side, she's twirling in a blur of silver and is dashing towards her best friend. It must be the signal the Hellspawn were looking for, because the moment Luna sprints towards Ms. Frenchie, they go into a frenzy. In a blink, Hellspawn are racing towards us with their gnashing teeth and killer claws. A piercing scream penetrates the air, forcing me to clamp my hands over my ears. I can feel myself getting dizzy when the pitch of the noise gets impossibly louder, and my hands aren't enough to block it from affecting me. Just when black spots begin to fill my vision, a sword is being pushed into my hands. I grab the weapon without thinking about it, dropping

the only cover from the noise. Before the sound can cause any more damage, something is being stuffed into my ears. Quickly, I realize Devon has put earplugs in my ears after handing me my sword. With a grateful nod, we both turn to face the horde of monsters gaining on us. Eli and Asher have joined us to form a barricade in between them and Luna, who I briefly see superman jump over the counter with such grace that I almost forgot that we're seconds away from being swarmed. I swing my head around just in time for the first line of creatures that attack. I don't know when he did it, but I notice Devon created weapons for the two Angels of Hell to help aide us in protecting our Fallen Angel. Asher is wielding a nasty looking mace whereas Eli had two long, deadly daggers in his palms. Without further hesitation, the Hellspawn are on us, black nails flying towards us, rows upon rows of teeth gnashing at us, rancid saliva spitting everywhere. One creature targets me, and when he rushes towards me, I lift my sword and wait for the

perfect moment to attack. When he gets close enough, I swing the sword around my head and in a swift movement, I've decapitated the monster. Another is attacking me the moment I've defeated one, one Hellspawn after another racing towards me with vicious intent. I move with my sword with effortless ease, impaling and slicing any creature that comes close enough. The ground is littered with blood, the air filled with the stench of rotting corpses, but I don't have the luxury of gazing at my surroundings. The Hellspawn keep coming, never faltering in their brutal attack. With deft movements, I've taken down at least a dozen monsters with extreme precision. Heads rolls, limbs are sliced and thrown in every direction available, but my focus is on the neverending stampede. When there’s a brief pause in the attacks, my eyes find Eli and Asher back to back, fighting off their own hoard of beasts. I catch Devon cutting his way through them with his axe, avoiding the knife-like teeth and claws. I notice absently that as he fights, he seems to be moving

closer to where I last saw Luna. My attention is drawn back to the next wave of Hellspawn heading towards me, slipping through the blood and pushing through the gore already coating the once pristine floor. My sword swings and slashes almost like it has a mind of its own, but I know it's down to the training every Angel had just before the Reaping. It makes me wonder if He saw this coming and prepared us all should we need it. I can't really complain when a set of disgusting black nails comes swinging for my neck. I'm lifting my sword just in time to intercept the move, cutting the Hellspawn's arm at the elbow. Just as the arm hits the floor, the monster’s other arm is flying towards me, not once missing a beat despite being short of a limb. I repeat the same motion, swinging my sword up in an arch, slicing the arm that almost nicked me at the elbow. I follow it with a brutal upper slice of my sword that cuts the creature in half. Literally. I stumble backwards and gag when one half of the body slides away from the other and I'm

forced to turn around when putrid organs tumble out in a mess of blood and decay. When no more attacks happen in my corner, I turn towards where I assume the counter sits, only to find the other three Angels huddles together, surrounded by Hellspawn. Luna and Ms Frenchie aren't anywhere in sight, so I can only hope they escaped and found somewhere safe to stay. Hoping to high Heavens, I jump into the fray with the others, creating a circle with our bodies once I've butchered my way through the throngs of creatures lining the coffee shop. The Hellspawn creep closer and closer, arms poised to attack at any moment. We're outnumbered, that much is glaringly obvious. Not a space in the store isn't occupied by Hellspawn, even more than I initially thought. Even with our advanced weaponry and expert training, we're no match for the numbers they have on us. Four against however many are surrounding us is enough to make me realize we've already lost. But I'll Fall before I let them take us down without a fight. My only hope is that Luna is safe.

In a blink, they attack with a worrisome synchrony that I'd never thought they'd be capable of, blocking any spaces that could be used as a way to escape. They shape their bodies in ways that surround us completely, leaving no space for even the slightest attempt to use against them. In a flurry of movement, the begin climbing one another to get to us, as though a switch has been flipped and they're back to their feral ways. The other Angels and I are swinging our weapons wildly, trying to incapacitate and monster that comes near enough. The sound of iron connecting with brittle bones, the splatter of blood with every slice of knives and the smell of the bitter, coppery tang of their blood fills the air around us. Sadly, with every creature we slice down, another appears just as fast, like there's an army on standby just outside the building. Just as I'm prepared to acknowledge that we've been defeated with the more Hellspawn pour into the small building, they all suddenly freeze where they stand. Just as quick as they stopped, they're suddenly turning on one another, tearing

into one another like savages, killing each other instead of us. What in the Heavens? Through the chaos and gore, I hear a faint noise. The sound of the most beautiful singing penetrates my earbuds and graces my eardrums. I look around while the Hellspawn attack one another, searching for the source of the singing, and when I spot Luna standing on the counter, eyes ablaze in a white flash of light, and her silver locks floating around her like there's a fan in front of her, my heart stutters. It's then I realize it's her singing. I have no idea what she's singing, but I catch the word 'battlefield' every now and then. I'd snort if I wasn't in awe of her and still worried the Hellspawn will turn against us again. Luna jumps off the counter and strides towards us, easily avoiding the mutilated bodies that litter the floor. She walks towards where the four of us Angels stand watching her with expressions ranging from surprise, awe and bemusement. Devon is looking fairly impressed by the silver haired beauty, which is a fair feat I never

thought I'd be a witness to. Just before Luna reaches us, however, a Hellspawn that doesn't seem to be under whatever influence the others must be under comes roaring towards her nails elongated even more than the others. Luna isn't quick enough to react, her focus on the others who are still fighting against the other. The Hellspawn tackles Luna from the side, knocking her to the floor with a sickening thud. Luna's quick enough to pull a dagger from who the fuck knows where and deposes of the creature swiftly. She stands a little unsteadily before facing the front of the store again. When she does, her eyes widen, and she begins her singing again. I turn to face the direction she'd been looking at and I realize the Hellspawn have stopped attacking each other and now face us, covered in blood and other things I don't particularly care to think about right now. There's a lot less than there had been, so the guys and I exterminate them mercilessly, making sure none leave the store alive. When the last has been taken care of, there's a resounding sigh from each of us.

That is until another sickening thud reaches our ears. We all turn in tandem, facing the direction where Luna should be stood. Only, she isn't standing in front of us with a playful smirk and a quip about how if she wants something handled, she'll do it herself. Instead, on the floor, Luna lays in a small puddle of blood.

Luna My stomach is screaming at me in pain while I lay on the floor in my own blood no thanks to that fugly son of a bitch that blindsided me before I was done kicking ass without having to use my foot. I clutch my hands against the long gash across my abdomen where the Hellspawn caught me with its freakishly long nails before I could fuck it up with the blade that held an uncanny resemblance to the ones Eli had branded during the fight. I have not a single clue how it got there, but it was there exactly when I needed it. I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially when my life quite literally depends on it. I hiss out a breath when I'm forced to put pressure on the wound to try and stop the flow of blood that's pouring unnaturally fast from a cut like

this. Sure, I figure I'd bleed a lot given that there's a fairly large slice running across my stomach, but the blood is quite literally pouring from me like it wants to exit my body as fast as it can. I’m immortal, as in I live for for-fucking-ever, but I can still die from blood loss, especially when it’s at the hand of a Hellspawn. Literally. The bleeding doesn't slow down at all, either. Just slips away in a steady stream, uncaring whether I need it or not to live. Inconsiderate, if you ask me. I wouldn't be surprised if it had something with that Hellspawn's nails. Ugh, nasty. Just as my breathing becomes a little labored and shallow, I'm surrounded by a harem of delicious looking men. It really should be illegal to be that good looking. Seriously. Asher kneels down by my head and gently lifts me so my head can rest in his lap, just as it has every time I've been in pain, it seems. He begins his hair brushing, his hand running through my tangled locks. Eli sits to my right, next to his brother. He

cups my face gently before quietly asking, "We'll get you to the hospital asap, okay? You just need to hold on until we get there. Can you do that, Flower?" I give him a shaky smile at the nickname and nod, even though it doesn't feel like I'll be making it out of this room at all with the pace my blood is flowing from a wound that really shouldn't be as fatal as it seems to be. From the expression on Eli's face, it doesn't look as though he's buying it. Not that I blame him when he's kneeling in a puddle of my blood that just doesn't seem to want to stop. "Luna, I swear if you die right after we just went through all that shit, I'll find a way to bring you back to life and kill you myself," Devon says as he kneels on one knee next to my head beside Asher. His voice shakes with worry and I notice he's looking awfully concerned for someone I thought didn't like me. He doesn't do the whole Angel promise thing, so I don't think he'll really kill me. Or is it because he doesn't want to find a way to resurrect me? Who knows? Such a confusing man.

I give him a weak laugh, but when I do, I begin to choke, a gurgling sound coming from my throat. When I can breathe properly again, Devon leans down to wipe at my mouth. He tries to pull his hand away quickly, likely so I don't see the blood that coats his thumb. That's not good. As if the gaping hole in my fucking stomach wasn't bad enough. "If you feel like you're going to sleep, pinch one of us. We'll keep you awake. Don't go to sleep, Luna. Okay? You can't go to sleep." That comes from Noah. I move my head slowly to where he sits next to Devon, his eyes bloodshot and red ringed as though he's holding tightly to tears that are seconds away from spilling. His hands hover over mine that are still clutched over my stomach uselessly considering it's doing fuck all the help. Swallowing a couple of times to clear my throat, my voice still coming out croaky and ragged, I tell them, "The bleeding won't stop. It's not slowing down." I move my hands away and another flood of

liquid pours from the slice at my stomach. My hands are coated in red, but Eli snatches one hand in his, holding it tightly to his chest where I feel the thrum of heartbeat pounding quickly beneath his ribs. My other hand is gently picked up and held carefully in a lap. I expect my hand to rest in Noah's, but when I look over, it's Devon's fingers that are being threaded through mine. His eyebrows are furrowed as he stares at my wound. I look down at my stomach, noting all the blood coating my clothes. "This was my favorite sweater. Motherfuckers." A strangled laugh comes from Eli, Asher snickers and Noah chokes on the surprised laugh that leaves him. It's enough to rid him of the tears that had been teetering on the edge of his eyelids. "You're bleeding out and you're thinking of clothes? Why doesn't that even surprise me," Devon comments, but there's no malice or judgement in his tone. When I look at him again, it's to see the smallest of smiles. He looks at me and

gives me a nod, showing he knows that I'm clearly deflecting from the fact that I very well might die here while I lie in the coffee shop. The odds aren’t looking good. Typical that I pop my clogs when my life is invaded by these assholes. With that thought, I'm suddenly exhausted. My body feels numb and my eyelids feel too heavy. They begin to flutter closed when Asher cups my face and pulls it upwards, so I face him. "No falling to sleep, peaches. Just wait a little bit longer, okay?" "I'm trying," I whisper and give him a small smile. He nods and leans down and kisses me softly on the head. We sit in silence for a minute or two, Noah fussing over my stomach, doing everything he possibly can to stop the blood flow, while the others sit around me holding my hands and comforting me the best to their ability. Through the numbness that's taking over my body, I remember forcing Ms Frenchie to escape

the room while I distracted the Hellspawn. The moment I stood on top of the counter, I lost sight of her. The room was crowded with creatures and blood and missing limbs, so much so that I didn't catch which direction Ms. Frenchie had escaped. "Where's Francis?" I croak out a whisper. "We'll find her, Flower. I'm sure she's safe. We just need to get you into the ambulance and to the hospital and then we'll go looking for her, okay?" It's then that I notice the blue and red flashing lights outside. The ambulance. What the fuck are these humans going to say about the mess in here? Just as I that thought crosses my mind, two paramedics are rushing through the room, weirdly using the door to get in even though there's a big fuck off hole in the wall where the window used to be. I guess they're big on manners. Don't mind me, the woman bleeding out on the floor. Just go right ahead and use the fucking door. What's more confusing is that they don't seem to notice the carnage around us at all. They

don't flinch at the blood coating every inch of the coffee shop. Even when one paramedic slips on a chunk of flesh, he brushes it off too easy. What the hell? Sadly, I don't get to think on it much longer when the blood loss becomes too much for my body to withstand. My entire body has lost all feeling, my head lolling to the side awkwardly without Asher’s help. My eyes begin to droop again, every time my eyes close it takes longer and longer for them to open. The last time they close, they don't open again, despite my efforts. I can hear the guys all yelling over one another. Shouting at the paramedics to "move their slow asses" and other colorful things I'd laugh at if I had the capability. I vaguely hear a stranger's voice call out, "Sir, you shouldn't carry her!" but unconsciousness wins before I can catch the reply that would surely make me grin. ***

An obnoxious beeping wakes me up. Clearly this is not heaven if that annoying noise blares on and off every five fucking minutes. I'm slow to come to, my eyes struggling to stay open for long lengths of time what with the blinding light pouring from above me and the urge to continue sleeping. My body feels like it's been dropped from the highest cliff and into a shallow body of water. I ache everywhere. "Turn the light down," comes a whisper from somewhere near me. I go to find the face to match the voice, but hands are surrounding my face, halting my quest. I know those hands. The click of the light switch sounds in the mostly quiet room and I slowly open my eyes. The first thing I see when the fog fades is Asher’s handsome face. He leans down until his forehead rests on my own, "Don't you fucking dare do that again, peaches." Ignoring the ache in my arm, I lift my hand until it reaches around his head and my fingers bury themselves in his hair. I hold him against me for a

sweet moment, neither one of us saying any more while we stay close enough that his breath feathers my dry lips. After a few more minutes, he moves away from me after giving me a kiss where his forehead rested a second before. Suddenly and equally gorgeous face fills my vision, dimples and all. I can't help but grin back at the red-haired Angel. He leans down and gives me a sweet but brief kiss, before leaning back and telling me, "You're very good at scaring the shit out of us, Flower. We should get you a trophy for it." I go to reply to Eli’s remark, but end up coughing until I lose my breath. A cup of water is held in front of my face a second later, and Noah sweetly helps me takes a sip or two, so my throat doesn't feel like sandpaper. "Thank you," I whisper when Noah pulls the plastic cup away. He gives me a small smile with his usual blush, before leaning down and giving me a tender kiss to the side of my head. His soft command has me smiling. "Don't do that again. I think you scared a century off my life." He backs away with a small

grin and sits in the chair that's on the left side of my bed. A hospital bed. Of course, because where else would one be if they'd been fatally injured and on the brink of death? The fairground? Before I can continue my sarcastic conversation with myself, movement to my right has my head rolling on my pillow to face the sleeping Angel holding tightly to my hand as he restlessly snoozes next to me. "He hasn't let go of your hand since we got here," Eli comments with a small smile. Devon hasn't let me go since arriving at the hospital? Why does that send a flurry of emotions rushing through me; confusion, giddiness and, well, confusion. Devon squeezes my hand a little tighter in his sleep and moves a little closer so his head rests close to my arm, close enough that the white blonde waves of his hair tickles my skin. I can't help but smile at the notion, even if my smile is one of bemusement. Asher drags another chair around to place in next to Eli's and plonks himself down, groaning when his back meets the back of the uncomfortable

looking hospital chair. He reaches a hand out and places it on my knee underneath the blankets and gown. It's far from sexual, however. He rests his hand there with his thumb stoking gentle movements on the outside of my knee. Noah shuffles closer to the edge of his seat, clears his throat before asking, "Luna, if you're up to it, would you mind telling us what happened at Frenchie's?" With a confused look, I ask him, "What do you mean?" He shares a look with the others before explaining. "With the Hellspawn turning against each other." "That wasn't any of you?" I ask, making me realize I still have a lot to learn about the Angels I've grown to care a great deal for. Noah shakes his head in the negative formation, telling me it wasn't him or Devon, and Asher adds, "Wasn't us, peaches." “I remember singing. I remember using my Devine Melody…” I trail off as I look at the three Angels that have eyes only for me. I think on it a

moment, ignoring their questioning gazes. The Hellspawn started attacking after I stood on the counter. My singing doesn't invoke that kind of reaction. I know I didn't use the other power I have. So how could they have turned against each other instead? It kind of reminds me of... "You've gone a worrying shade of white there, Flower," Eli comments. He's promptly ignored. No way. No fucking way. This seriously cannot be happening right now. He took them away. He snatched them back like a petty child and now, what? He's forced them back onto me? Fuck. That...that...dipshit! "Peaches, I can hear the gears in your head turning. Talk to us," Asher says. Looking at each of them with wide eyes, concern no doubt plastered over my face, I tell them, "He's made me into a bigger target." "What do you mean?" Noah asks softly. "He. Him. That dipshit up above," I growl, my eyes narrowing at the door to my hospital room.

What the hell was he thinking? That's what the Sentinels were for. Fuck my life. "I think he's given me back my gifts that he stripped when I Fell.” The looks of shock and confusion on their faces would be funny if I wasn't so angry.

Luna Sometime after my announcement, Devon woke up. Strangely enough, he's kept his hand in mine, not making any movement to slide it away and act like it didn't happen. Weird. "That doesn't make sense, Luna. He only gifted each Angel with two powers. Not a single Angel has more," Noah tries to explain. What they fail to remember is that I was his beloved daughter. "Let me explain. When I was created, I was given two gifts just like everyone else. It was only a short time until I became His 'greatest creation', as he liked to call me. I have no idea what I did to earn the title, but I knew I wasn't quite the same as the others. He could see that, too. One day, as I was walking through the tranquil gardens, right next to the crystal-like stream trickling by quietly, because it soothed me. He found me and asked to join me

on my stroll through the undying flowers and I allowed it. We walked in comfortable silence, until we reached a clearing where I liked to sit and just be. He'd confessed to me that He'd gifted more than one power to me, much to my surprise. He explained that he'd known of my differences because He'd been the one to create them. He gave me five gifts in total and when I Fell, he snatched three away and left me with the two I'd originally been given." "What powers were they, peaches?" Asher asks quietly, watching me closely. My eyes stare into his for a moment, and when his mouth tightens a fraction, I can tell he knows what I'm about to say. “You already know I have Divine Melody and Divine Touch." I huff out a humorless laugh. "But He gifted me with Reality Warping, which would explain the Hellspawn turning on one another, if they're made to think they're reality is that the Hellspawn were their own enemies.” "That does make sense. What happened when you climbed the counter?" Devon asks

patiently, rubbing his thumb on the back of my hand. "I'd thought about them fighting themselves instead of us just before I climbed onto that counter. I'm pretty confident I infused my Divine Melody into my Reality Warp to make them more aggressive towards each other in order for them to fight quick enough so it would be over sooner. I knew I was using more power than normal with my singing, but I didn't realize it was me who'd turned them on one another." "Makes sense, Flower," Eli agrees, nodding his head while he brings my other hand to his mouth to press a soft kiss on my palm before holding it snugly in his again. "That's not the only thing. When I heard the ambulance, I thought about what the humans would make of the mess in the coffee shop. The paramedics didn't flinch once when they came in through the door. The door. When there's a large noticeable hole in the wall that they could use to get to me faster, they used the door. They acted as though nothing was out of the ordinary. I'm thinking

I Reality Warped and made them think the coffee shop was as normal as it is every day," I explain, making sense of my thoughts earlier before I'd passed out. "I wondered about that, but I was more focused on getting you fixed," Asher comments, seeming lost in thought. Eli butts in again, questioning, "What other gifts did you receive?" "Divine Healing. I could heal from anyth-" I stop talking and let go of Devon and Elijah's hands, scramble to sit up slightly, ignoring the wave of dizziness that almost knocks me back down. I reach for the horrendous hospital gown that does nothing to flatter me, yank at the bottom and drag it upwards until the material in bunched under my braless bosom. When I look my stomach, my mouth falls open with a pop. I stare at my now blemish free stomach, not a single mark left on my bare skin. Where there had been a gaping hole in my stomach where the nails of that gross Hellspawn had caught me, now sits perfectly smooth skin. There's literally

no indication that there'd been anything wrong with me, not one scratch mars my porcelain flesh. No fucking way. I look up to garner the guys' reactions, but when my face raises, I notice they're all staring at my lace underwear that somehow survived the bloody massacre. Animals. "As much as I don't mind you all checking out my crotch, can we maybe leave that for a time that I'm not lying in a hospital bed and focus on the fact that my fatal wound is nowhere to be fucking found?" I question with both humor and hysteria. He really has given me all of my gifts back. At least two of the three, that much is blatantly obvious. "Sorry," Noah offers with a bright, red face that would have me laughing if it weren't for the minor fact that I'm officially freaking out. Asher runs his hand across my cut free stomach, checking for himself that it's really gone and we're not going crazy. His hand lingers a little longer than normal, but I can't say I mind. "Well that sure does confirm that you have your healing back," Eli mumbles in awe as he

watches his brothers hand trail a gentle line across my abdomen. Devon shakes himself out of his stupor pretty quickly, and turns to face me again, echoing my thoughts. "That's only two gifts, Princess. What about the last one?" His use of the nickname isn't patronizing or condescending as it normally is, which causes me to pause before replying. "Uh, Mysticism. I could mimic objects and other powers." Devon nods, even with a cute furrow in his brow that tells me he's confused. I look around the guys and stop at Noah. He's staring at my stomach but doesn't seem to be really seeing it. His face is carved into one of concentration, his gaze never once straying further than my stomach where Asher’s hand still sits. "Noah? What is it?" I ask carefully, not wanting to break his concentration out of whatever he's thinking about but needing to know why he's practically burning a hole in my belly. He turns to face me and explains his thoughts, "Mysticism? Mimicking objects?" I give

him a nod, and he continues. "You pulled a dagger out of absolutely nowhere when you got tackled to the floor. A dagger that was a double image of one of the blades Eli was holding. When we reached you, I looked for the knife, but it wasn't there. Like it had disappeared then and there." We stare at one another while I connect his observation with the events. I did just pluck a blade out of absolutely nowhere. There was no way I'd have managed to grab a knife when there wasn't one lying around me. Noah watches the moment I figure it out, and he nods in confirmation. "Well, fuck me running down a steep hill." I exhale harshly, causing the guys to snicker or outright laugh. I'm glad they can find humor in the fact that I am royally fucked. "You realize that the dipshit that everyone calls God has shoved me into the snake pit, right? He's just painted me into a bigger target. Lucifer already wanted me to join his stupid cause with the two gifts I already had, and now He's just thrown another three into the shit pot," I blabber quickly,

my voice reaching pitches I didn't think possible. Asher lifts himself from his chair and comes to stand next to my head where I've thrown it into the pillows in dismay. He begins his soothing trick, running his hands through my hair until my breathing has calmed down some. Eli and Devon have reclaimed my hands, Eli running his free hand up the arm attached to the hand snugly cradled in his larger one. Devon is content to rub comforting circles into the back of my hand while he waits for me to get a hold of myself. "What the hell are we going to do? It was bad enough as it was." I express my worry out loud, hoping that if I let them out, I'll feel somewhat better. That shit doesn't work. I still feel like I'm moments away from having a panic attack. "It's just another thing we'll deal with, peaches," Ash whispers before leaning down to kiss my forehead. Speaking of dealing with it, there's an old lady that I need to have a stern talking to. When someone tells you to run away from a dangerous

situation, you don't let a locked door hinder your attempts. "Hey, where's Ms. Frenchie?" I ask, relaxing into the bed while Asher continues with his ministration, my panic attack calming down enough for me to think rationally. The room suddenly goes deathly silent. You could hear a mouse fart with how my question seems to have sucked all other noise from the room. If that's not concerning enough, Asher's attention on my aching head seems to have stopped. I open my eyes and look at the guys who're giving each other a look I can't decipher. Since when did they figure how to communicate with looks alone? But sure enough, their eyes are talking and I'm not a part of that conversation. I don't know what bugs me more; the secret conversation I'm not privy to, the fact that they can now have aforementioned conversations, or none of them have answered my question about my best friend. I'm obviously more concerned about the latter, and my heartbeat picks up a fraction when

they still don't answer. "Guys, where's Francis? Didn't you say you were going to find her?" I ask, watching them silently converse with one another while I lie in a hospital bed freaking the fuck out. "If one of you don't answer me right this second, I'll do something not one of you will like," I half ass threaten, my words falling flat with the shake you can hear in my voice. I'm worried out of my mind for my best friend, and they're not telling me something. I can see it on their faces. I sit up in bed, pushing Asher's hand away. I pull out the IV in my arm with barely a flinch and watch it heal quickly, leaving no trace of a mark after the tiny hole is healed. I swing my legs over the bed, causing Devon and Noah to shift backwards before they catch a foot in their mouths. "Luna, wait-" I cut Devon off with a sharp look and he glances at the others before facing me and continuing, "Luna, we looked for her. Everywhere." I don't like the start of that sentence. Not one bit.

"Just tell me, Dev. Where's Francis?" I ask with a strain in my voice that gives away my fear for the crazy old lady I love to death. He pauses before slowly telling me, "We don't know. Eli and I looked while Asher and Noah stayed with you here. We couldn't find her anywhere. We checked her apartment and the surrounding area. We even went back to the apartment in case she found a way there. Nothing." As I absorb what he's telling me, I watch his face. There's something else, something not even Devon wants to tell me. "What aren't you telling me?" I question with a rasp, my heart thudding in my chest heavily. My panic and anxiety grow the longer they delay telling me something I obviously need to be told. Noah bends over in his chair, rustling through a bag filled with who knows what. He pulls out a clear plastic bad that has some sort of material inside. Sickness plagues me, my stomach revolting against what I'm looking at. "That's…is that..." I can't get my question out, and I can't stop staring at the bag clutched in

Noah's hand. He places it gently on the bed beside me, and I can do nothing but stare in horror. "Tell me that cardigan does not belong to Francis," I croak out another whisper, my eyesight becoming blurry with the tears that creep up on me unexpectedly. They know there's no mistaking that cable knit monstrosity, but I'll hold on to my denial until I can no longer do so. It's then that I notice the stains of blood over the material. Oh Lord, no. "And please-" a sob breaks free before I can stop it, "please tell me that is cranberry juice or that Francis has a brutal fighter inside of her and that's the blood of the Hellspawn that she valiantly took down without a scratch on her in return." It's quiet for a moment before Noah speaks. "I'm so sorry, Luna. We don't know where she is or if she's de- safe. But Devon and Elijah found this not too far from the coffee shop. The blood... it's hers." The tears are freely falling now, but I can't pull my gaze away from the hideous mustard

colored cardigan that I know Ms. Frenchie loved to wear. I can't look away from the stains of red that coats the fabric - or the tears. My mind begins to shut down. I can't accept that. She's around somewhere, I'm sure of it. She must have fallen, and her cardigan must have caught on something, tearing it a little. Surely that's it. And the blood? Maybe she scraped herself, or maybe she bumped her head and cut it? Or something. My head snaps up with determination to believe that my Francis is okay, and my gaze connects with Devon’s. He's sitting close enough that his chest is touching my knees. I ignore the tears streaming wet trails down my cheeks. "She's not dead. She's not allowed to be," I tell him with every bit of determination inside of me, as though me telling him my best friend isn't allowed to die will make it so. I'm a stubborn bitch, though, so I won't rest until I find the wrinkled old bat and make sure she's safe. I won't admit she's gone, she can't be. No, we'll find her. And I'll give her a tongue lashing for making me cry. She knows

I hate to cry. With one last look at Devon, and the steal in my voice obvious to everyone that I'll not be swayed on my decision, I growl one sentence that I plan to follow through with. "We're going to find her." To be continued...

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Firstly, to Brandy, for pushing me to do this whole authoring malarkey. Without you, I’d still be pigging out on the couch like a potato, wondering what to do with my life. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a couch potato, but you pushed me to be a writing couch potato. For that, among many other things, you’re awesome. You’re irreplaceable, my dude. To my alpha, Ashleigh, for not murdering me. You know how much I appreciate it. Thank you for the confidence boots, the awesome comments on Flawed Angel, and being as excited as I was to be writing. Your support and encouragement are always appreciated. To my cover designer, Jodie. Keep doing you, boo. You’re awesome. Expect more pestering from me for more covers. I need them all. To the authors that have supported me thus far, I can’t even put into words how much it’s meant to me to have you in my corner, cheering me on with your pompoms.

And most importantly, YOU, the reader, for allowing me to do something I never dreamt I would achieve. For the opportunity to have my words read and for the never-ending stream of anxiety that will always be worth it. From the very bottom of my heart, thank you!!!

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ABOUT J.J. DEAN *** JJ resides in her very own land of fantasy created by many a daydream, reality often nothing more than an ancient myth. When she isn't lost inside her own head, she's buying one-way tickets to procrastination station, where she stays watching Disney movies, reading amazing books by incredible authors, eating all the food she can get her hands on, and falling down the rabbit hole that is Pinterest, seeking inspiration for her next book. She occasionally adults when the need calls for it, where she looks after her babies, both with and without fur.