Wicked Kiss

Cassandra nodded. “We’ll be fine.”

“I’m going to go pack!” My mother kissed me on my cheek, then hurried off in the direction of her bedroom. I waited for her door to close before I spun around to face the angel.

“Just who do you think you are?”

Her eyebrows went up. “Excuse me?”

“You think you can just influence people to do whatever you want them to do? Like it’s nothing?” Every decision that had been made, taken out of my hands, forced upon me—this was the final straw. I wasn’t just going to smile and nod and try to be easy to get along with so nobody saw me as a threat. This was totally unacceptable.

She looked at me as if confused by my reaction. “It’s better this way. Having her here puts her in danger. You must realize that, don’t you?”

Of course I realized that. I wasn’t stupid. “I’m not saying you’re wrong.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“It’s just...not cool,” I sputtered. “You’re new around here—a guest! And this is my house...and my mother! You don’t get to make the rules!” I turned away and went to my room, slamming the door behind me.

Immediately, I felt like a petulant child who’d just thrown a temper tantrum. But I couldn’t help it. I tried to be on my best behavior and fit in, to not make any trouble, even when my life was falling apart. But she’d pushed me too far.

Cassandra had succeeded in making me feel utterly powerless. And that, in turn, made me realize I had no control over anything in my life.

I sank to the floor next to my bed and pulled my knees close to my chest. The three full plates of Chinese food I’d eaten sat heavily in my stomach, threatening to come back up.

Cassandra pushed open my bedroom door a couple minutes later. It wasn’t a big surprise that she didn’t knock first.

I looked up at her, guarded. “What do you want now?”

She pressed her hand against the door frame and looked awkward about coming all the way into my room. Again, her assessing gaze swept over my furniture, my vanity, my discarded clothes that hadn’t hit the hamper. I might get straight As, but I wasn’t what anyone would describe as the neatest person in the world.

“It’s been a difficult evening,” she said. “For you, for me. For all of us. I also sensed a dynamic between you and the other members of the team that perhaps I’ve disrupted in some way.”

I stared up at her, trying to process the strange way she spoke. “You’re a bit of a Vulcan, aren’t you?”

She looked confused. “A...what?”

“A Vulcan. It’s a Star Trek thing. Emotionless aliens who like to talk very proper.”

Her frown deepened. “I’m not an alien. I’m an angel.”

I sighed. “An angel who’s never had a chicken ball before.”

“Which was delicious. And the red dippable goo they came with?” She beamed. “Amazing.”

“If you say so.”

She came all the way into my room and sat on the edge of my bed. She looked at me very seriously. “I know you don’t like me.”

“I never said that.” Not in front of her, anyway.

Her shoulders sank. “That gray this evening. He hurt me...and he hurt you. I thought I could handle it, but he defeated me easily. Too easily.”

“It wasn’t your fault. Grays aren’t normally like that. He was a total freak of nature.” One that scared the hell out of me, to say the least. I was glad he was dead and he couldn’t hurt anyone else.

“That demon had to save me.” She shuddered. “And he said I have a nice ass. How crude.”

“That’s Roth.”

“Is he...” Her brows drew together “...as horrible as he seems?”

I was about to agree with that statement wholeheartedly, but then I thought about it. “I don’t know. Demons are supposed to be evil and horrible. I don’t like him. He’s a jerk, but he’s part of the team. He’s doing his thing. And he did save your butt.” I thought about what little I knew about Kraven. “Demons who’ve been humans before...they have stories behind them. They’re not a hundred percent bad. At least, I don’t think they are. I mean, I guess they did some really bad stuff when they were alive in order to become a demon. Right?”

“I’m sure they did.”

I remembered Zach’s story about the good deed with the drowning kid, and that giving him the chance to become an angel. I figured it would be the exact opposite—a bad deed—to become a demon. “It’s bizarre, really. Because, as far as I’m concerned, demons should be totally evil to the core.”

That was one of the things that freaked me out the most. How you couldn’t tell who was a demon and who was an angel. How similar they looked. Only their imprints confirmed what they really were.

“In the beginning,” I continued, “I assumed Bishop was a demon by the way he handled that dagger of his.”

“Yes, he does have a way with the Hallowed Blade.”

My ears perked up at this name. She’d called it that before. “Is that what it’s called?”

She nodded gravely. “All angels of death are assigned one.”

I blinked. “Angel of...what?”

She glanced down at me sprawled on the floor. “Angel of death. Bishop is one of Heaven’s assassins, which is why he’s one of the few officially authorized to carry such a dangerous blade.”