7 FIGHTFLIGHT
FIGHT OR FLIGHT
S O ?” R AUM LIFTED A brOW. “Y OU GOING TO LET ME out of this sigil now?”
They stood in weighted silence, palms still held aloft, blood dripping to the floor, gazes locked. Outside, the pink dawn had become the pale blue of a cloudless morning.
He was exhausted, but it made him numb, which was a good thing. If he’d been able to feel and think clearly, he’d probably have a Belial-level rage attack at how fucked up this situation was and how easily he’d been duped.
Yeah, he still wasn’t over that. And who could blame him? The sweet woman in a sundress who climaxed on his leg on the dance floor was actually a fucking angel. Who was going to murder his family if he didn’t do what she wanted.
He didn’t miss the way Sunshine kept an eye on him as she approached the edge of the sigil. He supposed an instinctive wariness around demons was smart. He’d just sworn a very complicated, detailed vow not to betray her … and was still planning on doing just that.
His plan was simple. And possibly stupid. But it was the best he could do on short notice. He had to make it look like he wasn’t planning a coup or Sunshine would have added more clauses to the contract. And she might have corrected the tiny loophole she had accidentally created.
Contrary to her assumptions, he wasn’t that big of a manwhore.
He didn’t disappear for days on end with random women, and when he was with a woman, he wasn’t a dick about it. He looked for girls who wanted what he did, and he was always straight up with his intentions.
If Raum told his brothers he was going to hook up with a random club girl for a week straight and then ditch her like trash bags on garbage day, they would definitely be suspicious.
They might have believed it if it were Meph—well, before he met Iris—but for Raum, it was totally out of character.
There just weren’t any people he wanted to be around for that long.
He was going to use Sunshine’s judgments about him against her. He’d agreed not to do anything to arouse his brothers’ suspicion, but she had suggested the lie about his week-long hookup, which made it exempt from that clause.
He’d tell his brothers with a straight face exactly what she’d told him to say and then hope like hell they’d figure out something was off.
The minute any of them suspected an angel was involved, they would prepare accordingly. Belial would get the angel trap set up and get Sunshine to walk into it. Once she was stuck, it wouldn’t matter if Raum was still under contract.
Bel would do what needed to be done.
Raum was just protecting the people he cared about. If Sunshine hadn’t come after him in the first place, he wouldn’t have been forced into this. Sometimes surviving meant making hard choices, and he reminded himself that she wouldn’t show him any mercy were their roles reversed.
The angel stretched out one of her long, curvaceous legs and smudged the edge of the sigil with the toe of her high-heeled sandal. The blue glow extinguished, and he was free.
Except he wasn’t. Not even close.
Sunshine smiled sweetly. “So. Where do we begin?”
Good question. “I have to tell my brothers I’m going away.” He shot her a look. “We’ll meet back here later and I’ll draw the hellgate to get us to Hell.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Anywhere you go from now until your half of the bargain is complete, I will accompany you.”
He ran a hand over his head and fought for patience. Normally, he was calm, too calm—to the point where he doubted he was even capable of strong emotions. But right now, he really wished he had a baseball bat so he could find out how much force it took to break the safety glass in a swanky condo.
“Come if you want,” he bit out. “But you need to get us supplies, and the more time you waste following me around, the longer it’ll take to get your book.”
“What supplies?”
“We need disguises. I’m a fugitive, and you’re an angel. We won’t be able to stay hidden all the time, and we need to blend in.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Cloaks.”
“Cloaks.” She blinked. “That’s your solution? I’m afraid to ask what your plan is for actually stealing the book.”
He glared at her.
“Well?”
“Well what.”
“What is your plan?”
He ground his teeth. “Go to Hell, find a base. You stay there, and I go to Murmur’s lair and figure out how to get past his wards.”
“And then?”
“Then I’ll get what I need, break in, and steal the book.”
“And we’re supposed to do all this while wearing cloaks?”
She’s still hung up on that? “You’re not coming. I’ll stay in crow form. No one will pay attention to me. Problem solved.”
Her eyes flared. “I am coming.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
He ground his teeth. “Why? You want your book. I’ll get it for you. Why do you have to be there?”
“Because …” She seemed to be debating how much to tell him. She probably thought giving extra information wasn’t wise, which was probably true. He’d use anything she told him against her given half a chance.
“This task is more than just a job for me,” she said. “It is a test. One I must pass. While I wasn’t given any stipulations about how I complete the test, there is an understanding that I must at least be present for it. Simply enlisting another to do it for me will not suffice.”
It seemed like the kind of convoluted logic that angels used, which was why he believed her. In his mind, it shouldn’t matter how she got the book as long as she got it, but angels weren’t known for keeping things simple.
“Why?” he asked, tilting his head.
“Why what?”
“Why do you have to pass?”
She pursed her lips. “There’s nothing in our arrangement that states I must share unnecessary details about my life.”
“Fine.” It didn’t matter anyway. “You can come to steal the book, but you have to promise to follow my lead.”
“Within reason. So what is your plan for my disguise?”
“Wear a cloak.”
She suddenly looked close to snapping at him.
He didn’t know why, but the thought of forcing her to ditch the mannerly composure gave him a rush.
It was similar to the little burst of adrenaline he got every time he slipped a valuable from someone’s pocket or threw himself off the edge of a building.
“Fine.” She spoke through gritted teeth. “And where do we get said cloaks?”
He shrugged. “Do I look like I know where to get cloaks?”
Her nostrils flared. She took a breath before speaking again. “You’re the being from Hell. Shouldn’t you know things like that?”
His poker face was unbreakable, but inside he was grinning like Meph. “Just because I’m from Hell doesn’t mean I wear a cloak. You’re the angel. Don’t you have a closet of robes somewhere?”
A muscle flexed in her jaw. He could tell by the look on her face that she definitely did have a wardrobe full of robes, but she was considering lying about it just to prove him wrong.
“I may have something,” she finally said.
“Great,” he said smugly, and her glare intensified.
“The only dark-colored robes we have are meant to be worn at sacred atonement and purification rituals. To even think of giving one to a demon to wear in Hell is sacrilege.”
“Well, damn,” he drawled. God forbid he sully the sacred robes with his unholy existence. This is why everyone hates angels.
They glared at each other.
He’d been cured of any illusions he might have had of her as alluring and desirable. Now, she was just his enemy. It didn’t matter what she looked like. She was an obstacle that he would defeat, just like he’d defeated every other obstacle in his path.
Except one time. He didn’t know what had happened during the memories he’d lost, but something told him he hadn’t won then.
This could be like vengeance, he decided. Heaven had stolen something from him, something no one had any right to take from another. So he would steal something from them right back.
Tit for tat. An eye for an eye. A demon’s brand of justice.
Maybe then, he’d be able to purge his fixation with regaining the time he’d lost, because after four hundred years, he still wasn’t over it. Maybe then, he’d finally be able to let it go and move on with his life.
Turning away, he finally walked out of the sigil, suppressing the shudder that passed over him as he crossed the line. The traces of Empyrean magic felt like spiders on his skin, reminding him of the power it could have over him. Fucking angels.
He crossed the room and opened the patio door. The air was cold this early in the morning, and the wind gusting at the high altitude bit at his skin through his clothes. Walking out onto the balcony, he peeked over the edge and felt his head swim a bit from the height.
They had to be thirty floors up.
Lips curving slightly, he climbed up onto the edge of the glass barrier.
Sunshine’s startled voice echoed through the open door. “What on earth—!”
He leapt off the edge.
The air rushed by his ears as he plummeted, free-falling, his stomach left somewhere behind him. His heart raced, and his blood pumped faster as adrenaline flooded his system. The ground got closer, the cars growing larger—
He shifted into crow form, spread his wings, and swooped straight up toward the sky. If crows could smile, he might have been smiling. Maybe.
Angling his feather-light body, he swooped sharply around the edges of buildings, orienting himself and setting a path toward home.
When he spotted his apartment building, he also noticed the woman in a white sundress standing on top of it with her arms crossed, long hair whipping about in the wind.
Even from far away, she was a sight to behold.
As he circled above her, he definitely checked her out from the front, side, and back.
So maybe he’d lied when he said he didn’t find her desirable anymore. But he wasn’t stupid enough to let it blind him again. He wasn’t .
He shifted back to human form and landed in front of her.
“I could have flashed us here!” she snapped. “You didn’t have to leap off the edge of a skyscraper!”
“I wanted to fly.”