8 WOLF IN SHEEP’S CLOTHING
WOLF IN SHEEP’S CLOTHING
S UNSHINE FLASHED TO A DISCREET SPOT BEHIND A pillar outside the Court of Ceremonies.
Third Sphere angels could not teleport directly in or out of any buildings in the Empyrean City and had to arrive out front and walk in.
With so many angels crowded together, it would be chaotic if everyone flashed around at their leisure.
It was slightly inconvenient for Sunshine in this case, however. She wanted to get in and out as fast as possible, hopefully avoiding interaction with anyone.
Ducking around the pillar, she smoothed her dress nervously and began to climb the stone steps.
An angel on their way down offered her a smile and she nodded stiffly back, chastising herself for her awkwardness.
Thankfully, it appeared there were no events scheduled presently, and as she reached the top step and peered through the grand doors—always propped open as a symbol of the peace of Heaven—she could see the Court looked mostly deserted.
She reminded herself she had every right to be there. If she didn’t act suspicious then she wouldn’t be. Angels were not accustomed to distrusting each other. She’d been spending too much time around demons.
Passing under the white stone arches into the hall, she hurried down the edges of the high-ceilinged chamber, trying to keep the clicking of her high heels to a minimum. It was customary to be in traditional angel garb here, but she hadn’t had time to change.
The Court of Ceremonies was not only where rituals were performed, but also where the Tribunal held court and issued verdicts. Artifacts of power were kept here and lent to archangels who went to Earth to dispense the Tribunal’s decreed justice.
Sunlight streamed through the high arches of the clerestory windows, illuminating the paintings on the ceilings above. They featured famous angels in the midst of legendary exploits, beautiful nature scenes, and the odd lurking demon, frightened into submission by the glory of the Realm.
Her steps slowed as she studied one of the cowering demonic figures. It was depicted as quite hideous, and while she knew there were plenty of ugly demons, she also knew that many were inordinately beautiful.
But of course they would not paint murals of beautiful demons, lest it cloud an angel’s judgment. I must not fall prey to this. She would be spending an extended amount of time with a demon who was not only beautiful but enigmatic.
She dragged her attention from the murals and hurried forward. Halfway down the length of the main hall, an arched doorway led to a long passage, at the end of which was a large room full of ceremonial robes.
There were white robes with golden threads, blue robes, golden robes, undyed robes, and … black robes. She pulled two of them from their hangers and draped them over her arm.
The hoods were thick and deep enough to hide one’s face completely. The sleeves were long and loose so hands could be tucked within them. The open front could be wrapped and tied shut or secured with fastenings, and there were slits in the back to allow wings to form.
Time to depart before anyone finds me here. Robes secured, she left the chamber and headed down the passage back to the main hall. She forgot about keeping her heels quiet as she hurried toward the exit as though her salvation lay beyond it.
She was so focused, she didn’t see the man step in front of her until she bumped right into him.
A tiny scream escaped her, and she stumbled back, holding a palm to her chest to quell her racing heart. Two big hands grasped her shoulders briefly to steady her.
“Apologies, Shamsiel. It was not my intention to startle you.”
She looked up into the glittering blue eyes of the archangel Raphael, and her nerves kicked into overdrive. His gaze flicked briefly over her person, and she knew he was noticing her lack of uniform. He made no comment, however.
Though she had changed her name well over four centuries ago, Raphael persisted in calling her Shamsiel. She’d given up correcting him since it had never seemed to make a difference. She’d never had the nerve to ask him if he was simply oblivious or just resistant to the change.
“Oh, it’s no trouble,” she assured him with a smile.
“I wouldn’t have expected to see you here today.” He returned her smile.
Raphael was tall, a few inches over six feet, with light skin, blond hair that curled against his forehead, and blue eyes.
His jaw was square and free of facial hair, and there was a slight indent in his chin.
At his hip, his infamous sword was holstered by a sturdy belt.
The consecrated weapon was forged of Empyrean steel and sharper than any material from Earth, and when he wielded it, white flames of heavenfire coated the blade.
Guardian angels protected humanity from demonic influence, archangels enforced the rules, and the Tribunal of Principalities passed judgments on rule breakers.
The hierarchy was not always about rising in rank.
Raphael was one of the most decorated angels of the Third Sphere, and Sunshine was sure that if he had wanted, he could have been elevated to Principality long ago.
But he likely preferred his status as archangel because enforcing was what he did best.
“Are those purification robes?” A crease appeared between his brows as he noticed the garments in her hand.
The urge to shove them behind her back was strong, but she refrained. “Yes. I—I’m just taking them to be mended.” The lie grated against her conscience like fingernails on a chalkboard.
“But you must know the Court guardians take care of these tasks?”
“Yes, but I … wanted to help out.” Her smile was so fake, her cheeks ached.
He tilted his head. “How very thoughtful.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t—Well, thank you.”
There was a pause. Just when she opened her mouth to excuse herself, he said, “I’ve heard you’re currently on a special assignment from Adriel himself.”
“Yes, I am.” She hadn’t known he was aware of that.
“Don’t feel obligated to share it with me. I understand it is confidential.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re very privileged to have a mentorship with Adriel. As one of the Powers, he is unfathomably wise.”
“Yes, he is.” She shifted on her feet.
“I placed a request to receive mentorship from a Second Sphere angel centuries ago, but it has never been approved.”
“Oh, well, I’m sure you will get someone soon.” She offered a reassuring smile. “I was only allowed to keep my mentor because of, well …”
Raphael cleared his throat lightly. “Yes, of course.”
Because of who I was before my shameful incident. Everyone knew Sunshine had once been Shamsiel of the Principalities with a seat on the Tribunal, only to be demoted to guardian as a punishment for her failings.
Everyone knew, but they never spoke of it.
She knew it was meant to be a courtesy, but sometimes it made her feel like she didn’t exist. Her past had been swept under the rug, never to be mentioned again, until she began to wonder if it had happened at all. If she had happened. If she mattered.
When she’d been demoted after her incident, she’d become someone else, and she’d chosen a new name to reflect that. She’d picked Sunshine because she needed the reminder to keep her mind turned toward the light, to keep fighting the darkness that had haunted her since.
Shamsiel had been powerful and respected. Sunshine was broken, but she was also growing. Striving. Focused on her goal.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said, “I must be on my way.”
“Of course. I apologize for detaining you.”
“It was no trouble at all. It’s always a pleasure to speak to you, Raphael.”
“And you, Shamsiel.” He bowed his head briefly. “Best of luck with your task for Adriel. And …” His gaze flicked to the robes over her arm. “Your mending.”
After Raum showered, shaved, brushed his teeth, and took his sweet time doing it, he headed back to the kitchen where the others were still working. It was starting to look less like a frat house, so progress was being made.
“I have to go,” he told them, “else I’d stay and help.” No, he wouldn’t. He wasn’t cleaning up a mess he had no part in making.
“No, you wouldn’t,” Iris said, immediately calling him on it. “But how nice of you to lie.”
He actually managed a laugh. Maybe she knew him better than he thought.
“By the way, I heard you got a job at an animal shelter.”
His eyes narrowed as he waited for her to tease him like his brothers had.
“I think that’s great. My cat loves you, and he hates everyone, even me. Obviously, you have a gift.”
“You’re working at a shelter?” Lily cut in. “That’s so cool! Can we come by sometime to visit?”
“Sure.” Please do not. “I gotta go.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Tell Meph and Bel that I … won’t be around much for a few days.”
Mist’s head swiveled around, and he pinned him with that look again. “Where are you going?”
Just say the lie. Open your mouth and spew the suspicious piece-of-shit lie that Sunshine blatantly gave permission for you to say.
“I just … need some alone time. I’ll be around though.”
Yeah, “alone time” so he could punch himself in the head. Repeatedly.
“Is everything okay?” Lily looked concerned for his mental health now. Great.
“All good. I have my phone.” He failed to mention he would be in Hell, where there wasn’t reception.
Mist was still giving him that look, and the twins looked like they wanted to pry him with questions, so he said a hasty farewell and got out of there fast. He shut his bedroom door and leaned against it momentarily, feeling exhausted.
It didn’t help that he’d stayed up all night bartering with Sunshine.
After pocketing his phone, he shifted back to crow form.
That was the handy thing about major shifts like his: Whatever he was wearing disappeared with the magic that caused the shift.
When he shifted to half-demon form, however, his clothes would stretch or tear—unless they were made of wyrm leather.