Angel Shifters 4 Angel's Shield Erin M Leaf

Evernight Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

ISBN: 978-1-77130-862-5

Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

Editor: JS Cook

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This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual
events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

For JoAnne, my intrepid editor: thank you!

ANGEL’S SHIELD

Angel Shifters, 4

Erin M. Leaf

Chapter One

“Are you with me?”
Haniel forced his eyes open and swallowed past his sore throat. Jeremiel crouched over him,

hands on Haniel’s shoulders.

“You with me?” Jeremiel asked again.
Haniel coughed. “Yeah. Always.”
“Here. Have some water.” His friend handed him a bottle.
The sides were cold and damp, condensation tracing patterns on the battered metal. Haniel

struggled to sit up. Jeremiel gave him a boost, grimacing sympathetically when Haniel bit back a
moan. His skin hurt. His bones, too. His whole body ached, as if he’d jumped into a crushing machine
and somehow come out the other end still alive. He tipped his head back and flipped open the top of
the bottle, pouring some of the water over his face. The humidity in the forest was so thick he could
barely breathe, but that wasn’t why he felt so wretched.

“We need to find a cure for this,” Jeremiel said, watching his friend sip the water.
Haniel shook his head. “There is no cure.” He held out his right arm. “See? The burns are

healed, but my legacy marks are gone. Everything that made me an angel is gone.” He grabbed
Jeremiel’s arms, tracing the dark patterns that swirled up his friend’s skin. “You don’t understand
because you still have your wings. You can still fly the winds. I should just let myself fade—”

Jeremiel interrupted him. “You’ll fade over my dead body,” he said grimly. “I understand more

than you think.”

“I can’t shift anymore. I can’t fly the winds. I can’t do anything except wander around,

searching for God knows what. What are we doing, Jeremiel?” he asked his friend bitterly. “Killing
demons is all well and good, but it doesn’t replace what I’ve lost.”

“We’re surviving. It’s not your fault the demon burned you. You’re lucky to be alive. I’m lucky

to be alive, thanks to you. If you hadn’t jumped in front of me, I would be dead.” Jeremiel took a deep
breath. “Come on. Your body is done tormenting you for another month. It’s still morning. We can
hike south a bit more before setting up camp for the night.”

Haniel sighed. “Suppressing the urge to shift never felt this horrible.” He hauled himself to his

feet, ignoring the residual pain that sparked through his body.

“Because instinct forced us to shift when we resisted. We could only suppress so much.”

Jeremiel stared off into the distance, giving Haniel some space. He was always touchy after one of
these episodes and Jeremiel had learned to keep his distance the hard way. “None of us can stop the
shift. If we don’t change into angel form at least once a month, instinct does it for us.”

“You’re telling me something I already know!” Haniel felt like shaking his friend until his teeth

shattered and fell out of his skull. He couldn’t do that, though. Jeremiel had stayed by his side the
whole time, ever since the battle that had reduced him to half an angel. Instead, he shoved his anger
down and swallowed it, as he’d been doing for the past two years. “My instincts are whole, but my
body is damaged. No one should have to endure this. It’s not even the pain, really, that I can’t stand.”
He looked up, trying to see the sky between the trees. “It’s being earthbound. It’s the worst thing that
could happen.”

Jeremiel turned abruptly and grabbed Haniel’s shoulder, blue eyes bright. “You’re right. And

that’s why we’re wandering, isn’t it? The demons must be stopped so this never happens to anyone
else.”

Haniel swallowed, then nodded slowly. Jeremiel was right. Killing demons was the only

reason he hadn’t let himself fade into the mist. Hatred kept him alive. “We’ve killed a lot. There will
be more.”

“There are always more,” Jeremiel said. He pointed south, down trail. “Look, the way is clear.

We simply need to keep going.”

The trees rustled in the breeze as if to punctuate his statement. At least it was summer and

warm. Wandering in the winter was far, far worse. Haniel gathered his backpack and shrugged it on.
“Okay. Let’s go.”

****
Charmeine stared out the front window of Ridgeline Diner, coffee pot forgotten in her hand.

The sky was blue and so very pretty today. Not for the first time, she wished she could take off
running and jump into the air. Fly like an angel. She wondered what the wind felt like up there.
Maybe I should save up, take some skydiving lessons, she mused, thumb rubbing along the worn
plastic of the pot’s handle.

“Charmeine! Hey, stop daydreaming and get back to work,” Melvin called from the grill behind

the bar. Her boss wasn’t angry with her, not exactly—he’d caught her staring out the window too
many times to be irritated, but he meant business. They had a full house and she was supposed to be
bringing coffee to the front tables.

She waved a hand at him and began to serve their customers. Most of them were locals about to

head off to work. A couple of electricians sat at table one; a group of women who worked in the
chocolate factory just outside of town were at table two. Table three held four old men who’d been
coming to eat breakfast here for decades.

“Caught with your pants down again, eh, China girl?” one of the oldsters cackled.
She rolled her eyes at him. “I’m wearing a skirt, Charlie, but I know you can’t see anymore, so I

forgive you. And I’m American, not Chinese. I was born here, remember? My mom was from Korea,
you know where that is right? Weren’t you a soldier at some point?” She poured the old man a fresh
cup and topped off the mugs of his friends. “Hmm, I thought you’d been overseas, but I must be
remembering wrong.”

“Ha, she’s got you there!” Arnold crowed, jabbing Charlie in the arm.
Charlie scowled at her, but his blue eyes twinkled behind his thick glasses. “I once had a

girlfriend like you, who mooned about all day long. She kept tripping over her own two feet.” He
shook his head sadly.

“Yeah, and what happened to her?” another one of the men asked, laughing. “She married me!

She said you were boring, Charlie.”

Charlie snorted. “Johnny, you deserved her. She couldn’t cook worth a damn.”
“But she could kiss,” the man said, nodding emphatically. “Boy, could she kiss.” He made

smacking noises to the loud approval of his friends.

Charmeine laughed as she walked away. The old men never failed to make her laugh.

Sometimes, when the longing for the skies took her completely over, they’d sing ridiculous
commercials from the forties and fifties to snap her out of it. She had to hand it to them: they’d kept
their promise to her grandmother before the old lady had died a year ago. They might be old, but they
looked after her in their own way.

“Table eight is up,” Melvin called and she hurried to the bar, setting the coffee on the counter.

He slid plates of steaming omelets onto the counter and wiped his forehead on his arm before turning
back to the grill, but not before flashing her a good-natured smile. The older man was a great short-
order cook and the owner of the diner. She had no idea what she would’ve done without him and his
job offer right when she needed to take care of her grandma. College was just a wishful dream now.

“Got it,” she told him, stacking the dishes up her arm and hurrying off. No more time for staring

out of windows today. She had work to do.

****
“I’m starving,” Jeremiel said, staring down the hill at the little town nestled among the rolling

Appalachian Mountains. “I want a burger.”

Haniel laughed as he adjusted his backpack. “A burger?” He lifted one of his feet and shook his

worn-thin boot at his friend. “I want a new pair of boots. These have holes.”

Jeremiel shrugged. “Think of the holes as ventilation. It’s summer. Your toes would stink

without all that air flow.”

“My toes already stink.”
“Probably because we also need a shower.” He made a show of sniffing his arms. “Yeah, I

definitely need to apply some soap.”

“Maybe we should get a room for a few days. Take a rest,” Haniel said, heading down the trail.

It led into the town, so there was probably a shelter they could use for a little while. He needed a rest.
Hiking was so much more exhausting than flying, not that he would’ve believed anyone if they’d told
him that a few years ago. “I smell food.” He grinned and waved to his best friend. “Come on.”

****
A half hour later they stood outside a quaint little diner nestled at the end of the town’s main

drag. Hilariously, the eatery was constructed out of an old rail car poking into a larger building, like
it had gone off track and gotten stuck there.

“Huh. You don’t see that every day,” Jeremiel said, staring up at the sign above the door.

“‘Ridgeline Diner’ is a boring name for a place like this. It should be called—”

“‘The Train Stop.’ Or even ‘Cab Diner’ would be better, right?” a woman’s voice said behind

him. “Melvin insists that Ridgeline Diner is a perfectly acceptable name, but I think he’s crazy.”

Grinning at the pert exasperation in the voice, he spun around to find a petite woman with curly

brown hair smiling impishly up at him. She looked vaguely Asian, with deep brown eyes that glinted
mischievously. She wore a uniform shirt that matched the red and white checks on the diner’s sign,
along with a full black skirt.

Jeremiel opened his mouth, but nothing came out. She was gorgeous. He couldn’t tear his eyes

away. Luckily, his best friend had his back.

“Melvin?” Haniel asked mildly.
She nodded. “Yeah, he’s the owner. And a really nice guy.” She reached for the door and

hauled it open. Bells tinkled against the glass. “You coming in for a bite?” The soft murmur of people
eating filtered out through the open door.

Jeremiel nodded, kicking his brain into gear. “I’m dying for a burger.”
She held the door open for them. “Then you’ve come to the right place.”
He stepped inside and gently took the door away from her. “Ladies first.”
She blushed charmingly, then ducked under his arm and headed for the bar at the back.

“Thanks.”

As soon as she was out of voice range, Haniel kicked him.
“What?” Jeremiel frowned.
“Stop staring at her butt.”
“Says the guy staring at her legs,” Jeremiel retorted, heading into the diner.
Haniel chuckled. “She’s really pretty.”
“And off limits to us. She’s no angel and we’re not human enough for her.” Jeremiel watched

her disappear into the rear kitchen, a strange yearning shivering through him.

Haniel shrugged, then stepped up to the bar. The older woman behind the register smiled.

“Two?”

Jeremiel nodded. “Thanks.”
She showed them to a booth near the windows and handed them some menus. “Charmeine will

be out to take care of you in a second.”

Jeremiel waited until she reached the register to speak. “I hope Charmeine is the woman who

led us in.”

“You’re a dog,” Haniel said, opening the menu. “Ah. Burgers galore.”
“Not a dog, an angel,” Jeremiel corrected. “Besides, you liked her as much as I did.”
“So?” Haniel put down the plastic covered cardboard.
“There’s no harm in being friendly.” Jeremiel ran a finger down the menu until he found the

burgers. Swiss burger, Barbecue burger, Ridgeline burger, Angel burger… Yeah, that’s the one, he
thought, smiling faintly. “They have an angel burger. I’m getting that one.”

Haniel blinked. “You’re joking.”
“It has blue cheese and balsamic vinegar dressing. Yeah, of course I’m getting that one,”

Jeremiel said, closing his menu and setting it aside.

“That’s disgusting.” Haniel wrinkled his nose.
“What’s disgusting?” the perky brunette who’d led them into the diner asked.
Jeremiel smiled, delighted that she was their waitress. “Don’t pay any attention to him. He has

no sense of adventure.”

Haniel choked.
Jeremiel ignored him. “We’re ready to order, Miss Charmeine.”
She blushed when he drawled her name. “What’ll you have?” She held her pencil over top of

the order tablet gamely.

“I’m going to have a normal burger. With cheese and fries,” Haniel said, then he jabbed a finger

at Jeremiel. “ He’s going to eat an angel burger, which is so wrong I don’t even know where to start.
Blue cheese on a burger?” He shuddered.

Charmeine laughed. “Yes, well, that burger is Melvin’s invention. Customers like the idea of

ordering something an angel might eat. It doesn’t seem to matter that no one really knows if angels eat

burgers or not.” She glanced down at Jeremiel’s arms. His legacy marks swirled up his forearms,
making her frown slightly. Haniel had his left arm down by his side, but when she looked at his
smooth right arm, her face cleared, no doubt reassured that she wasn’t in the presence of any member
of the exalted species.

Sometimes Jeremiel hid his marks, and sometimes he didn’t. Most humans they met assumed

they were tattoos, but enough weren’t sure about him that he tended to wear long sleeves fairly often
in order to stave off curious questions. A lot of people got angel-mark tattoos, trying to create for
themselves what the angels were born with. It didn’t matter. Humans couldn’t fly the winds. They
never would, not like the angels did. Like Haniel used to, he mused, losing his humor when he caught
the look on his best friend’s face.

“I hope it’s as good as it sounds,” he said, drawing her attention away from Haniel.
She smiled and nodded. “Not even a real angel would complain. It’s delicious.”
“Angels eat the same thing humans do,” Haniel said, unexpectedly.
Jeremiel gave him a sharp glance. What the hell was he doing?
Their pretty waitress raised her eyebrows. “How would you know that? They keep to

themselves, pretty much. Don’t they?” She glanced at Jeremiel’s arms again.

Haniel lifted a shoulder. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Have you met any?” she asked.
Jeremiel gave his friend a look. No way was he going to explain this. Haniel got himself into

this mess, he could get himself out.

Finally, Haniel sighed. “Yeah, I have.” He didn’t elaborate.
Charmeine looked like she wanted to ask more questions, but when she glanced at Jeremiel, she

nodded briskly, instead. “I’ll put your order in right away. Would you two like anything to drink?”

“Just water,” Jeremiel said, wondering what expression she’d caught on his face to make her so

wary. Anger? Grief? Homesickness? All three were there, in his heart. He couldn’t hide them. But
there was also loyalty to his best friend, and a driving need to kill the demons who had ruined
Haniel’s ability to fly.

“Water for me, too,” Haniel murmured.
She smiled and jotted it down on her pad. “No problem. I’ll be right back.”
Jeremiel watched her walk off, the full skirt of her uniform swaying pertly across her hips.

“Why would you do that?” he asked, once she was out of earshot.

“Do what?”
He glared at his friend. “Say you’d met angels.”
Haniel pursed his lips. “No sense in lying.”
“Are you trying to draw attention to us?” Jeremiel was angry. He wasn’t sure why, he just knew

that something inside made him want to grab the long knife from his backpack and start hitting things
with it. Haniel seemed to sense it, too.

“Look, I wasn’t trying to be an ass. Or anything.” He bit his lip and looked out the window.

“I’m just tired, I guess.”

“Of what?” The moment the words left his mouth, Jeremiel winced.
Haniel laughed shortly. “Of hiding.”
There was no way to argue with that.
“Except I’m not really hiding, am I? Not anymore,” Haniel said, more quietly, turning his right

arm up so that the smooth skin of his forearm was visible. He looked right at Jeremiel, his hazel eyes
glinting in the sunlight. “You are.”

Chapter Two

Charmeine carried out the men’s burgers, balancing plates on her arms and carrying fresh

ketchup and a bottle of hot sauce in her hands. She’d stuffed extra napkins in her pockets. She’d
already fetched their water. When she’d brought it to the table, the men had been staring silently out
the window. The sun was still fairly high in the sky, despite the late dinner hour, but there was nothing
particularly odd about the day. She had no clue what they’d been looking at. Neither one glanced at
her when she’d set down the drinks, so she hadn’t felt comfortable asking. The dark-haired one had
muttered a ‘thanks’ while the blonde nodded absently as he’d ripped the paper from his straw. She
didn’t know why the two friends seemed so lost, suddenly. She hoped they were just hungry. Sad
people made her sad, too.

“Here you go,” she said cheerfully, setting the plate down.
Mr. Dark-Hair smiled faintly. “That smells good.”
She nodded. His friend didn’t look away from the window. “Hope you enjoy it,” she said,

trying to get him to turn his head. She wanted to see his eyes again. Both men were so handsome she
couldn’t help staring. She didn’t really want to walk away, but she didn’t have a good reason to stay.

“Do you see that?” the blonde asked, surprising her.
“See what?” She had no idea what he was talking about. She peered out the window, but the

glare of the sun flared against the glass too harshly to see anything from her angle.

His friend ignored him, digging into his burger like he was starving.
“There, along the road.” The blonde pointed. “Is that a dog? Hmm, no too big,” he murmured.
The dark-haired man finally looked out the window, swallowing. “Where?” he asked, his voice

going low.

Charmeine frowned. His tone worried her.
“Haniel, what do you see?” the dark-haired man asked when the blonde didn’t answer.
Abruptly, Haniel shoved out of the booth. “Shit. We gotta go, Jeremiel.”
Charmeine stepped back, not wanting to get trampled. “But you didn’t eat your burgers.”
The blonde threw a twenty down.
His name is Haniel, she told herself. Haniel and Jeremiel, angel names, how strange.
“Keep the change,” he said, heading for the door. Something long poked out of his battered

backpack. His friend scrambled after him, face tight. Neither one looked back.

Charmeine stared as they rushed away, not understanding what had just happened.
I guess I can pack up their food, she mused, gathering up the plates. Maybe they’ll come back

for it. She hoped they did. Handsome men like that didn’t come in the diner very often, and she was
lonelier than she liked to admit.

****
“Dammit!” Jeremiel said, pressing the bandage against his arm. “That was close.”
“Yeah.” Haniel tipped head back against the tree. He was so damned tired. “Let me get that.”

He leaned forward and wrapped the cotton around Jeremiel’s arm. “It’s not bad. Should heal in a day
or so.”

“How in the hell did you even see it up on the mountain? We had to be a mile away at the

diner.” Jeremiel wiped his forehead, smudging dirt along his cheekbone.

Haniel stared at his friend, mesmerized by the stark lines of his face. It wasn’t the first time

Jeremiel’s beauty caught him off guard. He had no idea how good he looked. Like the perfect angel.
Haniel sighed. “I don’t know how I saw it. I’m just glad I did. These incursions are growing worse.”

“Alpha Gabriel told me that they haven’t found any new portals. No one knows how the demons

are coming through to our world.”

“When did you talk to him?” Haniel asked, frowning. They’d left Castle Archangel two years

ago. Become wanderers. He knew Jeremiel kept in touch, but he hadn’t realized it was often enough
to keep up on news.

Jeremiel pressed his lips together, blue eyes darkening. “I’ve been calling once a week, lately.”
Haniel froze. “That often?”
“We’re not the only ones fighting demons. Suriel and Ariel have been flying across the country,

trying to trace patterns. And Zeke wanted to leave the castle again to help, but Gabriel won’t let him.”
Jeremiel rubbed his face again, as if he had a headache.

“What about Raphael?” Haniel asked, worried about how their healer and Omega was coping

with everything.

“He’s fine, just busy. And worried.” Jeremiel fidgeted with the bandage on his arm. “We have

to be more careful.”

Haniel agreed, but… “We couldn’t just let it roam the forest. It was a boar demon. They’re

huge and dangerous and really, really dumb. What if it got loose in a city?”

“You think I don’t know that? The damned thing gouged out my arm.” Jeremiel thrust his hand

under Haniel’s nose.

Haniel pushed it away irritably. He loved his best friend, but sometimes he also wanted to

smack him. “Look, the problem is that we’re fighting all these little demons. The ones with no brains.
They’re just animals, with a lot of power. Where are they coming from?” He took a deep breath.
“Who is shoving them through into our world? Who is the master at the end of the leash?” His eyes
felt gritty from the ash that had drifted into the air when he’d stabbed the thing in the throat. He
coughed. “And I’m still hungry.”

Jeremiel laughed suddenly. “Yeah, me too. We left our burgers back at the diner.” He stood up,

groaning. “I agree with you, my friend, but there’s nothing we can do about it now. We killed this one.
We’ll kill the next. Let’s get some food and rest and tackle the mystery of the universe in the morning,
eh?” He held out his good hand.

Haniel grabbed it and let his friend pull him to his feet. “You’re right. I’m just worn out. I think

we need to take a week off or something.”

“A vacation? Like the humans do?” Jeremiel’s voice was light.
Haniel chuckled. “Yes. Exactly like that.”
“I saw a hiking shelter just off the trail,” Jeremiel said, walking down the ridge toward the

town. Lights glittered along the streets as darkness finally blanketed the day.

Haniel shouldered his pack, carefully wiping his blade before he tucked it into the sheath along

his back. “I remember it. Right next to an old farmhouse.”

“That’s the one. We’ll bunk down for the night and go find some food in the morning.”
****
Charmeine stood at her back garden, watering her tomatoes in the dark when two men strolled

into her yard. She froze, water still pouring from her hose.

“Easy miss,” one of them said gently. “Sorry to startle you.”
She frowned. Where have I heard that voice before?
“We’re just here for the trail shelter,” the second one explained, moving closer.

She squinted, telling her stupid heart to stop banging on her ribs. People come all the time to

use the shelter, you ninny. She turned off the hose and backed up. “Hang on. I’m going to turn on the
porch light,” she said. She should’ve done that when she’d first gotten home, but there had still been
enough light to see the garden. The sun had set while she stood there, staring into the dirt. Sweat
trickled down between her breasts and she resisted the urge to rub. The last thing she needed was for
some strangers to see her touching herself. She stepped onto the step and reached for the light. The
two men waited, like perfect gentlemen. When she flicked the switch, she gasped. The guys she’d
served in the diner stood at the edge of her property. “Oh,” she said, like an idiot.

The dark-haired one grinned. “It’s our lovely server, from the restaurant.”
She blushed at the ‘lovely,’ but didn’t let it rattle her. “You’re here to use the shelter?”
The blonde— his name is Haniel, she reminded herself—nodded wearily.
“We’re pretty tired.” He looked around, then shrugged off his dusty backpack. “We won’t

bother you. We just want to get some sleep.”

Charmeine bit the inside of her cheek, then made a split-second decision. The kind that drove

her parents crazy before they’d died when she was eight. Her mother used to tell her that some day
her luck would run out, but she couldn’t help it. She just knew things. Her grandmother always,
always, understood. The old lady had told her it was part of her heritage, to follow her instincts and
have her hunches proven right. And she was so lonely these days.

“You can stay in the house,” she said, stooping to coil up the hose. She smiled as they stared at

her, dumbfounded. “I even brought your burgers home, if you’re still hungry.”

“Miss, we couldn’t impose like that,” Haniel said hurriedly.
“My name is Charmeine,” she replied.
The men exchanged looks. The dark-haired one stepped forward, holding out his hand. “I’m

Jeremiel.”

She cocked her head. “That’s an angel’s name.” Her gaze flicked down to his arm where tattoos

sprawled over his skin. A bandage marred the smooth lines, making her forget all about her
suspicions. “Oh my God, are you okay?”

His hand didn’t waver. “I’m fine. It’s just a little cut.”
It didn’t look all that small to her. She glanced at his face. He was still smiling calmly. She

slipped her hand into his, strangely uncertain, but the moment her fingers touched his skin all her
worry fled. He felt good. Familiar. She didn’t want to let him go. Arousal slid through her, hot and
strange, and she could tell he felt it, too, from the startled look on his face. He felt like… home.
Which made no sense. She was already home. The other man had moved closer while they stood
there. He smiled at her, too, but his held more teeth than kindness. She wasn’t sure if he knew how
intimidating he looked.

“I’m Haniel.” He held out his hand.
She forced herself to let go of Jeremiel and put her palm against his friend’s. A jolt of heat shot

through her, like she’d touched a live wire. She tried to pull away, but his fingers closed around hers,
almost too tightly. Suddenly, she didn’t want him to let go. She didn’t want to move. She grabbed onto
him just as hard as he held onto her and stared at his eyes, the hazel looking more brown than green in
the dark. He felt like a promise already sealed, or the bit of excitement you feel when you step in for a
kiss. He felt dangerous. Alluring.

She had no idea what the hell was happening.
****
“You can stay upstairs. I have a guest room up there, if you don’t mind sharing,” Charmeine

said, leading the way into the kitchen. “But you’re probably still hungry, so I’ll get your burgers out
for you.” She resisted the urge to wipe her palms on her shorts. That would be rude. And they’ll
probably think you’re weird.

“Charmeine,” Haniel said, his voice so low it rumbled.
She didn’t turn around. Instead she opened the refrigerator and grabbed the carry-out

containers. “I can put them in the microwave.”

“Charmeine, stop,” Jeremiel said, putting his hands on her shoulders.
She trembled. Cool air from the fridge wafted over her hot face. “Here.” She turned and thrust

the food into his hands. She knocked the door of the refrigerator shut with her hip. Jeremiel just stood
there, staring at her sympathetically. She sighed. “What’s happening to me?”

Just beyond his friend, Haniel shook his head. “We don’t know.”
“Nothing,” Jeremiel said.
Uh-huh, she thought skeptically. She edged away from Jeremiel and sat down at the table,

confused and aroused. It wasn’t a pleasant combination. She picked at the peeling varnish on the old
wood, hoping they couldn’t tell how attracted she was to them. Maybe it was all in her head, this
feeling of familiarity. Neither of them seemed particularly rattled. She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.
I’m just tired, I guess. I worked all day.”

“Did you eat dinner?” Jeremiel asked, pushing buttons on her small microwave. It beeped, then

the fan went on. He folded his arms and leaned back against the counter. The chipped linoleum didn’t
seem to bother him.

She shook her head. “No. I’ll have some yogurt or something.” The bandage on his arm was

very white against his skin. His black t-shirt hugged his muscles. She stared. “Are those real?” she
finally asked, whispering. She couldn’t help herself. She had to know.

He glanced down at his arms, but didn’t answer.
“Here,” Haniel said, sliding a glass of water toward her.
She blinked. She hadn’t even seen him turn on the faucet.
“You look hot. Have some water.” He sat down across from her and ran his fingers through his

hair, tousling the golden strands.

She picked up the glass and took a sip. It was good, but it wasn’t what she wanted. She pushed

it away.

“Here, eat something,” Jeremiel said, setting the sandwich she’d made for herself earlier in

front of her. She’d forgotten all about it.

She chewed the inside of her cheek. She didn’t want to eat. Her stomach was in knots and she

felt like she was standing on the edge of a precipice.

“Go on. Your blood sugar is probably bottoming out,” Haniel said, pushing it a little closer.

“You’ll feel better if you eat.”

He stared at her until she picked it up and took a bite, forcing herself to chew and swallow.

Why did she feel so strange? Because one of these men might be an angel and the other one is his
best friend, she told herself as she took another bite. Which is crazy. To be honest, she didn’t really
believe Jeremiel could be an angel. Her grandmother’s stories were just that: stories. Angels and
humans didn’t mix. Especially not romantically, even though her grandma insisted they sometimes did.
Sometimes even fell in love. Charmeine took another bite of her sandwich, surreptitiously staring at
Jeremiel’s arms. She glanced at Haniel. He had marks, too, but only on his left forearm. He couldn’t
be an angel, but Jeremiel? Maybe. The thought frightened her. Thrilled her.

“God, that’s good,” Jeremiel said, licking his fingers. He stood in front of the counter with his

meal, eating standing up.

Charmeine picked up her water and gulped down half the glass. The expression on his face had

her squirming in her chair. He looked blissed out. Aroused.

“Yeah, best burger I’ve had in a while, even reheated,” Haniel murmured in agreement.
He looked just as gorgeous when he swallowed as Jeremiel. Charmeine had no idea why she

thought it would be a good idea to invite them inside the house instead of letting them stay in the
shelter. Because you’re an idiot. A lonely idiot. “So, you’re hiking the trail?” she asked, out of sheer
self-preservation.

Haniel nodded. “Yeah. Going to try and get all the way to Georgia.” He shrugged. “If not this

year, maybe the next.”

“A lot of people spend a year or more doing that,” she said slowly, trying to figure out why

these two men would want to. What was their story? Usually people were running from something. Or
to something. “My grandmother set up the shelter outside decades ago. I’ve kept it up as best I could.”
It was little more than a shed set near the forest. The trail snaked down the ridge just beyond the land
she’d inherited from her grandmother.

“Seems dangerous for a woman alone,” Jeremiel offered.
“Most people are nice,” she told him, finishing off her sandwich. I was hungrier than I

thought.

The men exchanged looks again. She wished they’d stop that. It made her nervous.
“Have you seen anything weird the past year or so?” Jeremiel asked.
“What do you mean by ‘weird?’” She leaned back in her chair. “I’ve seen a lot of strange things

in the forest, but nothing unnatural. Bear scat, deer fighting, even a feral skunk once.”

Haniel shook his head. “Nothing that tried to attack you?”
She frowned. “No. I mean, I suppose the skunk would’ve attacked me if I’d gotten close, but I

just called the sheriff and he took care of it. Rabies isn’t something to fool around with.”

He sighed and pushed away his empty plate. “Well. That’s good, I guess.”
She didn’t know what they were getting at, but the bandage on Jeremiel’s arm worried her.

“What happened to your arm? Is that why you’re asking me about wild animals?” She didn’t forget
that he’d dodged her question about his tattoos earlier.

He glanced at her sharply, then sighed when she raised her eyebrows.
“I fell. Scraped it against a branch.”
He was lying to her. Charmeine wondered if she should call him on it, but his body language

told her to forget it and she wasn’t brave enough to nag him. He’d angled away from her, tilting his
arm so the bandage was less obvious. No way was she going to find out what really happened. She
just hoped it wasn’t dangerous for them to stay here.

“Why don’t I show you the room where you can sleep,” she said, standing up. “I’m turning in

early tonight, too.” Might as well try and get some sleep.

The men followed her lead, gathering their backpacks. “Thanks,” Haniel murmured, his voice a

soft velvet that shivered over her skin.

She swallowed and led the way to the stairs. She wasn’t sure what was going to happen with

them in the house. She’d never been this attracted to anyone before, ever. She’d never anticipated
wanting two men so badly, so she had no way to deal with it.

“Don’t worry, we would never hurt a woman,” Jeremiel said, as if he’d read her mind.
“Um, thanks,” she said awkwardly. Didn’t serial killers say that right before they tied up their

victims? She stifled nervous laughter and showed them the spare room. It wasn’t fancy, but it would

do. She pushed open the door and flicked on the light switch. Warm light from the lamp on the
nightstand flooded the room, highlighting the old quilt on the double bed. It was soft and comfortable,
a lot like the room itself. She remembered painting the walls a year before her grandmother had died.
‘Pale blue, for sweet skies,’ the old lady had said, and Charmeine indulged her, rolling the color on
in great wide swaths. She shook her head. That day felt like it had happened ages ago, not just a little
over two years.

Enough reminiscing, she told herself, stepping inside. “There’s only one bed, but I figure if

you’re used to sleeping out in the woods, one of you can handle the floor.” She paused. “Or you can
use the sofa downstairs.”

“Charmeine,” Haniel began, but she cut him off.
“I’m not worried.” She forced a smile. She wasn’t. She was unsettled. Aroused. Lonely. “The

bathroom’s down the hall,” she said as she backed out. She needed to get away from them before she
did something stupid. Like ask one of them to kiss me, she mused, hurrying down the hall to the safety
of her bedroom. She closed her door and leaned against it, closing her eyes as she let herself imagine
what it would feel like to kiss a man who understood her need for the skies. The need she’d never,
ever be able to fill.

Chapter Three

“We can share the bed,” Haniel said, setting his backpack on the floor.
Jeremiel rubbed his face. “Is it just me, or did she seem really skittish?” He picked at his

bandage, ignoring the twinge that told him he should leave it alone.

Haniel shrugged. “She did, but don’t forget, she’s letting two strange men sleep in her house.

That would make any woman skittish.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” Jeremiel said, sitting on the bed. The quilt was faded

blue and very soft. He looked out the window. A large tree blocked most of the view, but he could
just make out the glitter of stars beyond the branches.

“She knows you’re an angel.”
Jeremiel tensed. “Not for certain, she doesn’t.” He kept trying to forget how startling it had

been to touch her hand, how the heat had surged up between them. Why would I feel so much for a
human?

“She suspects, and that’s good enough.” Haniel sat down next to him and gently took his arm.

“It’s probably scabbed enough to get rid of the bandage.”

Jeremiel let his best friend peel off the white cloth. Messing with it earlier had made one of the

scabs sore, but it would heal quickly. It always did—one of the perks of being an angel. After tossing
the bandage, Haniel sat close enough for Jeremiel to feel the warm length of his body. His friend was
familiar and welcome, but also unsettling. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmured,
leaning into him. He grabbed his hand and squeezed.

Haniel’s hand tightened on his. After a long moment, he replied. “I need you more than you need

me. I can’t fly anymore. I’d probably have thrown myself off a cliff if not for you. Or let myself fade.”

Jeremiel’s heart skipped. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Not now, I wouldn’t.” Haniel laughed quietly. “But if you weren’t here?” He trailed off.
Jeremiel abruptly drew him into a tight hug. “I’ll kill you if you try to do that.” He buried his

face in Haniel’s neck, relishing the warm scent of his friend.

Haniel embraced him. “I wouldn’t do that, not as long as we’re together.”
Jeremiel let himself relax slightly, ignoring the weird flutter of nerves that told him most

straight men didn’t tell their best friend such things. He didn’t care. After all, angels and men were
not the same, not at all. If what he felt was stronger than friendship, who could possibly judge him for
it?

****
The next morning, he woke up tangled in Haniel’s arms. It had taken him a long time to fall

asleep, especially after his friend had dropped off right away. He’d lain in the dark, listening to
Haniel breathe, thinking about the softness of Charmeine’s hand. His cock throbbed, keeping him
awake, but he wouldn’t touch himself while he was in bed with Haniel. No way. It seemed to take
hours for his hard-on to fade and for his brain to turn off enough to fall asleep. Now, though, he ached
all over again. Each time Haniel shifted, his hip rubbed against Jeremiel’s dick.

When it happened again, Jeremiel stifled a groan and tried to ease away, but Haniel had him

trapped under the quilt, arms and legs wrapped up tight. “Haniel,” he whispered quietly, not wanting
to startle him. “Wake up.” Morning sunlight filtered through the old stained glass at the top of the
window, throwing rainbows across the wall. The colors touched the bed, too, as though God wanted

to decorate their slumber with rainbows.

“Hmmm,” Haniel mumbled, finally rolling away.
Jeremiel sighed in relief, reaching down to adjust himself. “We should get up.”
Haniel grumbled. “Sleeping.”
“Uh-huh.” Jeremiel stretched. “You’re a big faker. Were you awake all this time?”
“Maybe.” Haniel rolled back over and shoved his face into Jeremiel’s shoulder. “This is the

first time we’ve slept in a bed in months. I’m not getting up yet.”

A sudden knock startled both of them. Jeremiel froze, hands gripping the comforter.

“Charmeine?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I have to work from lunch until after dinner today. Are you staying

another night? You want me to bring you something to eat later?” Charmeine called through the door.

“Hang on,” Jeremiel called, just as Haniel said, “Yes, thanks!”
Charmeine laughed. “Um, okay.”
Jeremiel shoved at his friend, trying to untangle his legs from the sheet. “We’re staying,” he told

her through the door. One look at Haniel’s face told him his friend had no intention of going anywhere
for at least a day or two. “We’ve decided to take a vacation.”

“Okay,” she replied slowly, as if what he said made no sense.
He continued. “But you don’t have to feed us. We can get something for ourselves. We don’t

want you to wait on us.” He managed to sit up, shoving the quilt aside as he fought the confusion that
seemed to have taken up residence in his brain. What the hell was wrong with him? Too much blood
drained from your brain to your dick, he decided.

Haniel snaked an arm around his waist. “Calm down.”
Jeremiel rubbed his face. He wanted to lie back down and go to sleep. Why was he so reluctant

to leave this place? It wasn’t like him. He usually wanted to keep going. He dug his toes into the cool
hardwood floor, frowning uneasily. Haniel patted his hip absently.

“It’s no problem,” Charmeine called back. “Listen, can I open the door? I can barely hear you.”
Haniel answered before Jeremiel could. “Yeah, come on in.”
Jeremiel lunged for the quilt just as the door opened. He did not want her to see his morning

wood. He glared at Haniel as she stepped inside.

“Oh,” she said, as if the two of them in bed together told her something. “Sorry.”
Jeremiel had no idea what that something could be, but the look on her face had him scrambling

to explain.

“It’s the first night we’ve been able to sleep in a bed in months,” he said, scratching his stubble

when the explanation didn’t seem to relax her.

She stared at his hand. He slowly brought it down to his lap. Her face was pink. God, she’s

pretty, he thought.

“Are you leaving for work now?” Haniel asked, shifting onto his elbow.
Jeremiel wanted to push him, tell him to be still, but that would just make more of a spectacle

of them in the bed. Because we aren’t already a spectacle, hmm? he berated himself.
Embarrassment is my middle name.

“No, it’s only eleven. I’ll be leaving in a half-hour or so.” She cocked her head at them. “Did

you sleep okay?”

“Yeah, I slept great,” Jeremiel hurried to answer. She rubbed at her arms, clearly

uncomfortable.

“We’ll be down in a minute,” Haniel offered, sitting up.

The quilt moved, pulling across Jeremiel’s cock. Charmeine’s eyes flicked down, then up

again, her skin going pinker.

“Was there something you wanted?” he asked gently, when she didn’t speak. Or leave.
She shook herself. “Um, no. Sorry.” She backed out of the room. “I’m going to have some

breakfast. Come on down when you’re ready.”

When the door shut behind her, Jeremiel turned on Haniel. “Are you crazy?” He grabbed the

quilt and dragged it off his friend. Haniel stared at him, hair mussed. Dick hard and poking through his
boxers.

Jeremiel looked away, his face heating.
“Sorry,” Haniel said, his voice low. “I, um, wasn’t thinking.”
Jeremiel took a deep breath. “Maybe we should talk about this.”
Haniel laughed shortly. “About what? The fact that ever since we touched Charmeine I’ve been

wanting to touch you, too? That I want her more than I’ve ever wanted a female?”

Jeremiel went hot, then cold, then hot all over. “Jesus, Haniel.” He was not going to turn

around and look at him while they had this discussion.

“Yeah, exactly.” The bed rustled.
Next thing he knew, Haniel was sitting next to him. Leaning into him.
“I could feel you, you know,” he said quietly. “It’s okay.”
Jeremiel’s heart gave a sick thump. “Why didn’t you roll over?”
“I liked it.” Haniel shrugged. “I don’t care if that makes me gay, or whatever.”
Jeremiel swallowed. “I like Charmeine.”
“So do I,” Haniel replied immediately.
“What are we supposed to do with that?” Jeremiel asked, clenching his fists. His morning

erection was finally gone, thank God for small favors.

“I say we stay here for a little while. Rest up.” He took a deep breath. “See what happens.”
“See what happens,” Jeremiel echoed, confused as fuck. He laughed quietly. “We’re really

messed up.”

Haniel bumped their shoulders together. “Yeah, well. So what if we are?”
Jeremiel didn’t respond. What could he say? It wasn’t like he was going anywhere. After they’d

fought the demon at Castle Archangel, no one could separate them. Haniel had given up everything for
him. Jeremiel would never be able to repay that. And really, who would care that he wanted to kiss
his best friend right now? He glanced over. Haniel fidgeted, eyes dark. Not thinking, Jeremiel
reached up and touched his mouth. Haniel’s lips were really soft.

“Fuck,” Haniel breathed, eyes fluttering shut.
Jeremiel leaned in. When Haniel’s mouth touched his, he shuddered. “What are we doing?” he

asked, lips touching.

“Shut up.” Haniel slid his fingers into Jeremiel’s hair and deepened the kiss.
Jeremiel’s brain went offline. He gripped Haniel’s arms, cock going hard and aching all over

again. He kissed his friend until he didn’t know where he was anymore. Haniel held him steady,
kissing him back with such intensity that he felt their connection down to his toes.

“If Charmeine were here, we would kiss her like this,” Haniel whispered, startling Jeremiel

into immobility. He bit at Jeremiel’s lower lip. “And this.” He licked inside.

“Oh my God.” Jeremiel couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The idea of sharing her was more

than he could take.

“She’d probably be shocked, but also intrigued,” Haniel continued, kissing down Jeremiel’s

jaw. “She wants us both. Did you see her looking at us? She’s down there in her little kitchen,
thinking about us right now. Wondering if we’re touching each other.”

“What are you saying?” Jeremiel asked breathlessly.
“Can’t you feel it?” Haniel asked.
Jeremiel couldn’t feel anything except the pounding of his heart. “I feel you,” he murmured.
“She’s our mate, Jeremiel.”
Jeremiel went still, lips against Haniel’s cheek. “Impossible. She’s human.”
Haniel pulled him closer. “I wish it were impossible. Why is her name Charmeine? That’s an

angelic name.”

“She’s human.” Jeremiel slid his hand down Haniel’s arm, gripping hard, as if he were about to

slide off a cliff and only his friend could save him.

“I’m not so sure about that.” Haniel kissed him again and Jeremiel couldn’t stop him. Didn’t

want to.

“Angels don’t mate with humans. They don’t mate with two people, either. They pair up,”

Jeremiel said against Haniel’s mouth. He trembled. What was happening to them? His skin was on
fire. “Trios are a myth.”

“Anything’s possible. Look at me. I’m mostly broken, but I’m still here,” Haniel said, pulling

away again.

“Stop that.” Jeremiel grabbed his hands, then slid an arm around his neck. “You’re not broken.

You’ve never been broken. Even if you never fly again, you’re still you.” From the look on Haniel’s
face, his friend didn’t believe a word he said. Fuck this. Jeremiel turned, climbing on top of him and
pushing him down onto the bed. He shoved his cock into the hollow between Haniel’s hip and
abdomen. God, so fucking good. “Shut up.”

Haniel closed his eyes and bucked up, his own hard-on bumping against Jeremiel’s. “This part

of me isn’t broken, just everything else.”

Jeremiel bit his neck. “I said, shut up.”
Haniel panted, hips moving urgently. “You have no idea what you’re doing.”
“Neither do you,” Jeremiel retorted, holding him down. He kissed him again, stubble scraping

against his chin. He thought about Charmeine, how her face would go pink if she saw them like this.
How her eyes would go wide and then her mouth would open, but she wouldn’t be able to speak.
She’d just stare at them. He thrust faster, the thin fabric of his boxers chafing the sensitive head of his
dick. He didn’t care. From the look on Haniel’s face, neither did he.

“Fuck me,” Haniel said, hazel eyes glittering in the sunlight. “I want to feel alive again.”
Those words sent him over. Jeremiel groaned, every muscle in his body locking as his cock

pulsed. Haniel trembled, then he grabbed Jeremiel’s ass and arched his back as his climax took over,
too. Jeremiel felt the heat of it on his skin, against his hip and thighs. So hot, he thought, his dick
jerking painfully as his body tried to shove more pleasure through him. “Jesus,” he muttered, going
limp.

“Not Jesus,” Haniel said, breathless.
Jeremiel started laughing, head in Haniel’s neck. After a moment, Haniel joined him.
“What just happened?” Jeremiel asked, once he’d managed to calm down. The mess in his

boxers had started to congeal. Ugh. He rolled off his friend.

“Damned if I know,” Haniel said, plucking at his shorts.
“Yeah, well, now I need a shower.”
“I think it’s going to take more than a shower to wash this mess away,” Haniel said quietly.

Jeremiel shifted over and slid his arm around his best friend. “You’re not a mess, Haniel.

Never.” He sighed. “Let’s just see what happens. Isn’t that what you’re always saying? Don’t do
anything drastic.”

“What? Like have sex with my best friend?” Haniel scoffed. “Been there, done that.”
“Got the t-shirt,” Jeremiel said automatically.
“What would the others think?” Haniel asked.
Jeremiel frowned. “I don’t feel like we did anything wrong.”
Haniel was quiet for a long time. When he finally spoke, his words sent a shiver through

Jeremiel. “I’m more worried about something happening to you. We live a dangerous life, my friend.
And now I have something to lose again.”

Chapter Four

Charmiene downed the last of her coffee, trying not to think about what the two men had looked

like in bed together. Haniel’s blonde hair had been mussed just enough to make her want to run her
hands through it. Jeremiel’s morning stubble had her itching to glide her fingers over his jaw.

God, I’ve got it bad, she thought, putting the cup in the sink. She ran water in it, then turned off

the faucet and leaned against the counter, staring out the window. Morning sunlight slanted across the
backyard, highlighting the soft, white dandelion globes decorating her lawn. A sudden gust of wind
sent the seeds into the air. She wondered what it felt like to skim the breeze like that. For as long as
she could remember, she’d wanted to fly.

She glanced at the picture of her parents she’d taped to the refrigerator door. Her mother barely

came up to her father’s shoulders, but they were so much in love it never seemed to matter. She
remembered her dad’s laugh and her mother singing to her in Korean, but they’d died when she was
eight. Was the longing she felt for the skies just her psyche’s way of trying to heal the damage of her
loss? She shook her head and looked outside again.

“I’m certainly no angel,” she murmured, sighing. She gathered her purse. Jeremiel is an angel,

though, no matter how much he denies it. She’d seen his legacy marks twist from his forearms up
over his shoulders when he’d been in the bed. The cut on his skin had scabbed over last night. This
morning it looked even better. She frowned. He certainly heals fast, she mused.

“Charmeine?”
She spun around. Jeremiel stood in the doorway, thankfully dressed. Her composure couldn’t

handle any more half-naked angels right now.

“Oh, Jeremiel. Good morning,” she stuttered, imagining him without his shirt. He’d washed up

and his dark hair was wet. “I was just leaving.”

He smiled, slow and devastating. “No need to hurry off on my account.”
She blushed. “I have to get to work.”
“Did she leave?” Haniel asked, coming up behind Jeremiel. His eyes landed on hers. “Oh,

good. You’re still here,” he said softly, not smiling, but not frowning either.

She glanced away, not understanding the expression on his face, and gestured to the coffee pot.

“I made extra today, in case you wanted some.”

Jeremiel stepped into the kitchen. “Thanks.” He poured himself a cup and sipped at it carefully.
Haniel followed him in, looking around as if cataloguing the room. She watched him hesitate as

he moved closer, but then he leaned against the counter near her. He seemed larger than he had
yesterday, but maybe it was because she hadn’t spent much time standing next to him. He loomed over
her, broad-shouldered and muscular. Just the kind of guy she liked, not that it mattered. He wasn’t
hers to touch. He cocked his head, waiting for her to speak.

She nodded at him, not sure what else to say. Why was this so damned awkward? Because they

make you feel things you can’t have, a little voice whispered to her in the back of her head. And
they’re crazy gorgeous.

“Is it okay if we stay a few more days?” he asked suddenly, surprising her.
She blinked, then wrenched her brain into focus. “Uh, yeah. I guess so,” she replied, twisting

her purse’s strap between her fingers.

Jeremiel smiled. “We need a rest. We’ve been hiking non-stop for a long time.” He traced his

finger around the rim of his cup.

She watched him, mesmerized, then shook herself out of it. She really did need to get to work.

“It’s fine. You can stay as long as you need,” she offered. She didn’t know why, but she trusted them,
as absurd as that was on one night’s acquaintance.

“Thank you,” Haniel said.
She smiled at him briefly. “You’re welcome.”
He touched her arm.
She froze, heart knocking on her ribs. Even just his fingertips on her skin had her flustered.
“We really appreciate it,” he murmured.
She stared at his hand. Fine lines, so light she wasn’t sure if they were scars or just some

strange variation of his skin, ran up his wrist. They looked almost like faded legacy marks, light
instead of dark against the corded muscles of his forearm. What had happened to him? She shivered
and pulled away, not understanding why she wanted to shove closer, instead. “Um, it’s okay. But I’ve
really got to get going, now. I don’t want to be late,” she said brightly, faking cheerfulness as she
crossed the room. Inside, she felt a lot of different things: arousal, need, longing. Happiness? Not so
much.

“Be careful,” Jeremiel said, stepping out of her way.
She paused at the door. “Careful?” Of what? She lived in a tiny rural town. The only thing she

had to worry about was maybe hitting a deer with her car. Of course, there were those feelings she’d
been having of being watched lately. She reigned in her imagination. No, you’re just being paranoid.

He shrugged and shook his head. “Just… yeah. Be careful driving,” he said, like he was her

father or older brother or something.

She smiled, amused. “I will.”
****
Eight and a half hours later Charmeine was ready to drop. She’d spent the entire day catering to

busloads of tourists and school children, here to visit the nearby parks and their many trails on the last
day of the week. She’d dealt with more than the usual number of comments about her eyes, which
drove her crazy. They were just eyes. She looked like her mother, so what? It was like no one had
ever seen an interracial person before. The ones who asked how her hair could be curly when she
was Asian just made her angry. Ugh. Fridays tended to suck. Her feet ached. Her head ached. She’d
burned her arm right near the crease of her elbow and it throbbed annoyingly.

“Melvin, I’m sorry, but I’m exhausted. I gotta go before I collapse,” she said, untying her apron.
He waved a hand at her from the grill. “Yeah, no problem. You go home and get some rest.”
She waved at the other two waitresses and headed outside. The late afternoon sunlight slanted

through the trees that lined the street, but she was too tired to care about the lovely weather. All she
wanted to do was go home and sleep. She stopped by her car, tensing when a pricking at the back of
her neck alerted her to eyes following her movements. Surreptitiously, she looked around, pretending
to check out the flower arrangement in the shop next to the diner. Nothing. A few people walked
down the sidewalk on the other side of the street, but no one was watching her, not that she could tell,
anyway.

“Dammit,” she muttered. This wasn’t the first time she’d felt this way. For a few months now

she’d thought someone was spying on her at random times, but had never been able to figure out who
it was. Maybe I’m just losing my mind. Her skin pricked even more, so she hurriedly unlocked her
car and drove away from the center of town, stomping a little too hard on the gas on her way up the
hill just past the last house. “You’re imagining things, Charmeine,” she told herself irritably. “Too

much work and not enough rest. You know how you get.”

Ten minutes later she pulled into her gravel driveway and turned off her old Chevy, leaning her

head on the steering wheel. The sudden lack of air conditioning made the inside of the vehicle stifling
in seconds as the sun-warmed vinyl of the dashboard leached heat into the interior. When someone
tapped on her window, she jerked her head up, heart pounding, sure someone had followed her home.
Instead, Jeremiel pressed a finger to the glass, smiling at her innocently. She stared at him dumbly as
she willed her heart rate to slow down.

You’re safe. He’s a good guy, remember? He looked darkly handsome, his blue eyes more

intense than she recalled from this morning, if that was even possible. The slow burn of arousal slid
through her exhausted body, replacing the fight-or-flight instinct with something equally dangerous.

“Are you getting out?” he asked, voice muffled by the glass.
She pulled herself together. “Yeah,” she said, opening the door. The air outside wasn’t much

cooler, but the breeze coming down off the mountains was welcome. She lifted her sweat-soaked hair
off her neck. “It was a hell of a day.” She tried to ignore how good he looked, but it was difficult.
Even his worn jeans and faded blue t-shirt couldn’t disguise the perfection of his body. She tore her
eyes away, blushing. He wasn’t wearing any shoes.

He closed the door for her. “We made you a sandwich and saved you some melon.”
She stopped on the sidewalk. “You cooked?” She couldn’t imagine it. He seemed so

extraordinary, more angelic than human, that she had trouble with the idea of him in her humble
kitchen. She tried to picture him wearing her frilly apron and shook her head, laughing at herself. He
never once admitted he was an angel, you idiot.

“I wouldn’t call it cooking,” Haniel called from her front porch. “But we can throw together a

sandwich as well as the next person.” He had on a pair of old cargo shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt.
The white fabric made his eyes seem luminous. Or was that just her libido going crazy? She rubbed
her face, grimacing. She had to shower before she collapsed. The grease from the grill coated her
skin unpleasantly.

“Why don’t you take a cool shower? We’ll set the table for you and then you can eat.” Haniel

held open the screen door for her. “You look tired. It’s the least we can do.”

She walked past him into the cool dim of her house, ignoring the tingle in her spine as her arm

brushed his. “Thanks. I am pretty tired. It was a busy day.”

Jeremiel followed her in. “Go. Relax. There’s nothing else for you to do today.”
She walked up the stairs, a little confused, but also a lot grateful. She hadn’t been looking

forward to fending for herself. She could put up with a bit of coddling, right? Even if it came from
two men who set her heart racing in a way that she couldn’t understand.

****
The next week passed much the same way as Friday, with Haniel and Jeremiel making simple

meals for her when she got home from work. She didn’t feel anyone watching her anymore, for which
she was grateful. Her nerves were already shot from living with two men. She’d thought she’d enjoy
their company, and she did, but she also struggled with the crackling attraction she felt for them.
She’d never dated. Never had a boyfriend. She’d been too busy with school and then caring for her
grandmother to bother with boys. Now she wished she had… maybe she’d understand what was
happening to her. The evenings were pleasant, but oddly surprising. She wasn’t used to having anyone
to talk to. Mornings were just strange. She couldn’t help staring at them as they stumbled from her
spare bedroom, mussed and sleep-warm. They didn’t seem bothered by sharing a bed, and she was
pretty sure they were ‘sleeping together,’ not just sleeping.

And the image of that is enough to make me lose it completely, she thought as she pulled on

her uniform a week after they’d arrived. She’d had to work without a break for seven days, but
starting tomorrow, she had four glorious days off. She had no idea how she would handle puttering
around her house with two hot men invading her space.

She’d never expected them to stay so long, but she had to admit, she liked it. It was weird, but

she liked having them around, even though the more she got to know them, the more she wanted them
for herself. She wanted to be able to touch them, kiss them, sleep in the middle of their bodies and
wake up warm and safe.

“Stop daydreaming,” she said aloud, shoving her feet into her shoes. Outside, the day was

warm and sunny again.

“Hey, are you about ready to go?” Haniel asked, poking his head in her open doorway.
She nodded and smiled, controlling her instinctive reaction to him. Her body warmed and her

arms itched. “Yeah, I’m ready. Why?” she asked when he hung around, looking everywhere but at her
face.

“Would you mind if I caught a ride into town with you?”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Sure. But how will you get back to the house?” Neither man had wanted

to go into town before.

“I can walk back, no problem. I just want to pick up some things,” he said, ducking his head.

“Thanks.”

“You can take the car back, as long as you come and pick me up,” she said impulsively.
“Wait, are you sure?” he asked as they walked down the stairs. “I don’t want to leave you

without a vehicle.”

She nodded. “It’s fine. Just come get me at three.” She shook a finger at him. “Not a minute

later. I’m finally looking at some time off and I have no intention of wasting a single minute of it.”

He laughed. “Okay, okay.”
“You’re going with her?” Jeremiel said, wiping his hands on a dishtowel as they walked past

the kitchen.

“Yeah. We’ll have to pick her up later,” Haniel said.
“No problem.” Jeremiel smiled at them. “Drive safe.”
****
“What do you mean, you lent your car to some guy? Are you crazy?” Lisa said, voice rising.

“They could be serial killers, for all you know.”

Charmeine laughed. “Yeah, I don’t think so. They’re nice guys.”
“And they’re staying in your house?” Lisa shoved the dirty glasses into the dishwasher. “You

really are crazy.”

“I’m used to hikers coming through, remember?” Charmeine said, grabbing a couple of rolled

napkins.

“They could be biding their time, waiting to feast on you when you fall asleep,” Lisa said,

closing the washer door and pushing on it with her hip until it clicked.

“Oh please, they’re not demons. You’ve been watching too many horror movies.” Charmeine

rolled her eyes. “They’re nice guys. You’ll see.”

“What do you mean, I’ll see? I’ll see what?” Lisa grabbed the rest of the fresh napkins and

followed her out into the diner. “Are they coming here?”

“I don’t know if both of them are, but Haniel definitely is. He needs to pick me up when I get

off shift.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “In about ten minutes. That’s why Darla took my

tables.”

“Wait, what? His name is Haniel? What kind of name is that?” Lisa dropped the napkins into

the box near the register. “That’s an angelic name. You are one lucky chick. It must be the exotic
Asian thing you’ve got going on.” She paused, then said, “Holy shit.”

Charmeine laughed. “I don’t think his shit is holy, Lisa. And the Asian thing is getting old. I had

enough crap about it all day from the tourists. It sucks living in such a small town sometimes.”

“No, you idiot. Look.” Lisa poked her in the arm. Hard.
Wincing, Charmeine rubbed her arm as she looked at the door. Haniel stood just inside, in all

his blond glory. The afternoon sun backlit his hair, making him look even more ethereally gorgeous
than usual. Damn, he’s hot.

“Is that him?” Lisa hissed.
Charmeine gave her a look that said shut up. “Hey,” she called aloud. She smiled and waved,

catching his eye. “He’s early,” she muttered to her friend.

“Oh my God, look at that tall drink of blonde gorgeousness.” Lisa breathed. “Whoa.”
He headed over, moving through the tables with a grace that was obviously not lost on Lisa.

“Hey, you ready?”

Charmeine nodded. “Five minutes. You’re a little early.” She smiled, forcibly yanking her eyes

away from his hips. So what if his jeans were tight enough to give her palpitations? That didn’t mean
she should stare at his groin. “Oh, this is my friend, Lisa,” she said, moving away from the woman’s
pointy, painful finger.

“Nice to meet you,” Haniel said softly.
Lisa blinked. “Yeah. Um, I mean, nice to meet you too.”
Charmeine didn’t blame her for stuttering. The man was beautiful. She still stuttered around him

sometimes.

“Is it okay if I wait in the car? We’re parked just outside.” He jabbed a thumb at the door as he

glanced around the crowded restaurant. “I don’t want to get in your way.”

More like he isn’t in the mood to have the entire place staring at him, Charmeine thought

darkly, frowning at the customers who were watching them avidly. “Yeah, sure,” she said aloud. “I’ll
be out in a few minutes.” She watched him weave his way through the tables, unable to keep herself
from staring at his backside. It was just so damn perfect.

“So, like I said before, holy crap!” Lisa hissed. “Did you see the tattoo on his arm?”
Charmeine frowned. “Yeah, so?”
“Oh, come on. Is he an angel?” Lisa voice wasn’t particularly quiet.
Charmeine shushed her, not wanting the diners to overhear. “I don’t think so. The marks are

only on one arm.” She thought about the faint scars on his other arm. “I don’t know.”

“If he is, well, whoa times a million.”
“I don’t think angels and humans mix, Lisa,” Charmeine said, repeating what she’d told herself

a thousand times this week.

“At least now I know why you let him stay. Is the other one as handsome as that?” Lisa fanned

herself melodramatically. “How do you function with two of those in your house?”

“I’m leaving now, Lisa.” Charmeine grabbed her purse from under the register.
“Hurry home. I can’t say that I blame you.” Her friend grinned.
“Oh my God, shut up,” Charmeine pleaded. “He and his friend will be moving on soon

enough.”

“Are you sure about that?” Lisa asked. “Because you didn’t see the way he looked at you, my

friend.”

Charmeine shook her head. “Now you’re the crazy one.”
“I know what I saw.”
“Leaving.” Charmeine waved to Marvin and walked out the doors, trying to calm her nerves.

Could Lisa be right? And if so, exactly how was Haniel looking at her?

Chapter Five

Haniel waited by the car, unsettled by the crowd in the diner. That happened a lot. He looked

human and acted human, but somehow, most of the people he encountered knew he wasn’t really one
of them. He wasn’t sure why or how, especially now that he was missing half of his legacy marks, but
it always happened like that. Jeremiel often refused to go into places where a lot of people gathered
unless it was winter and he could wear something over his arms.

“I’m here,” Charmeine said behind him.
He spun around, smiling. She’d loosened the ponytail she wore to work and wisps of long

brown hair blew across her face. She probably thought she was plain, but he’d never seen such rich
brown eyes before. Never seen such creamy skin. God, he had it bad.

“Ready to go?” he asked her, dangling the car keys on his finger.
“Will you drive?” she asked. “I’m pooped.”
Surprised, he nodded. “Sure.”
“Good,” she said, lifting her hair off the back of her neck. “I just want to sleep for days.”
He opened the passenger side door for her, ignoring her look of surprise at his gallantry. “I bet.

You work pretty hard in there.” He frowned. “How did you end up as a waitress?”

Her eyes followed him as he walked around the car. When he climbed behind the wheel, she

rubbed her temples tiredly. “My parents died in a car crash when I was eight, so my grandmother
raised me. I was halfway through college when she got sick. I came home to take care of her. End of
story.”

He turned the key. “That sucks.”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
He knew what it felt like to be alone like that. His parents had faded when he was little. They’d

just given up on their duty and let themselves disappear into the mist, like so many angels of their
generation. They thought that after their species was outed to the humans, they couldn’t ever live in
peace again. That they had no reason for being. They couldn’t have been more wrong. He pulled away
from the curb and headed for Charmeine’s house. “I understand. My parents died when I was little,
too.”

She glanced at him. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “I barely remember them. Jeremiel’s parents took care of me for a while.” He

needed to change the subject before she asked him what happened. “So, your mom was Asian?”

She blinked. “Korean. How did you know?”
“The picture on your fridge.”
“Ah.” She tilted her head back and rested it against the seat. “Yeah. She came here in the late

nineteen sixties, met my dad at college, and the rest is history.” She smiled faintly. “My grandmother
told me they had an epic love affair. Apparently, everyone here was scandalized. They couldn’t get
the clerk to issue them a marriage license until my parents admitted my mother was pregnant. People
can be so stupid.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” he said, absently rubbing his right arm. Sometimes his missing legacy

marks ached, as if his skin knew there was something wrong. He was grateful he wouldn’t be forced
to fight the change again for at least another week or two. He hated the thought of struggling like that
where Charmeine might see.

“Hey,” she said, after a long moment of silence. “I didn’t mean to freak you out.”
He glanced over at her. She was staring out the window, face tilted to the sky. Sunlight

reflected from her eyes, hiding her thoughts, but he could tell she was frowning.

“I’m sorry, it’s not you. I was just remembering my parents.” He took a deep breath. “Basically,

they committed suicide. I’m still pissed with them about it, all these years later.”

She turned to him, compassion bleeding into her expression. “Oh, that’s terrible. I’m sorry.”
“No, no need to apologize. They made their decision and I was far too young to stop them. I

was only three. It was two decades ago. You’d think I’d be done with it by now.” He shook his head
as he pulled into her driveway.

“Some things you don’t ever get over,” she murmured.
“Yeah.” He opened the door. Jeremiel waved from the porch. Thank God he had his best friend.

Even if things were a little weird right now, he knew Jeremiel would always have his back. “Yo! I
got your stupid oranges,” he called out, pushing his morbid thoughts aside. He didn’t want to think
about his parents. Or his lost ability to fly. He walked over and opened the car door for Charmeine
before she could get out.

She grinned up at him. “I’m not an invalid, you know.”
“I know. But you’re a pretty woman and I like opening the door for you.” He made a little bow,

pleased when she blushed and laughed.

“Stop flirting and bring me my food,” Jeremiel called.
Haniel gave him the finger, making Charmeine laugh again. “You’re lazy,” he told his best

friend.

Jeremiel slouched against the porch railing indolently, foot hanging off the steps. “So what if I

am?”

Haniel smacked him on his head. “Get up and help me with the groceries.”
Charmeine skirted past them. “I’ve gotta change before I melt.”
Haniel watched her walk inside, imagining her without her uniform. He bet she wore lacy little

underthings.

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” Jeremiel said, poking him in the thigh.
He shifted his eyes to his best friend. Jeremiel wore a tight red t-shirt and shorts. He was

barefoot. He remembered what it had been like to rut against that body and swallowed. What was
going on with him?

“Oh Jesus,” Jeremiel whispered, standing up. “Stop it. Stop looking at me like that.”
“I can’t help it,” Haniel said quietly. “We’ve been sleeping in the same bed for a week. I wake

up smelling like you. And then there’s Charmeine. I think I’m going crazy.”

“Just shut up,” Jeremiel ordered, grabbing the bag of oranges from him. “Stop thinking about

it.”

Haniel snorted, beyond frustrated. Jeremiel hadn’t let him touch him since the one time at the

beginning of the week and Haniel’s craving for skin was almost unbearable. Maybe it was because he
couldn’t shift anymore. Jeremiel had taken to flying half the night, alone, leaving him behind to watch
over Charmeine. He drew a deep breath. “You’re my mate. So is Charmeine. This isn’t going to go
away. Even if you never touch me again.”

Jeremiel glared at him and went into the house without another word.
****
Mate? Charmeine mouthed to herself. She’d been standing near her open window to get some

breeze on her overheated skin, stripping off her uniform, when she heard the men talking. What did

Haniel mean, I’m his mate? She kicked off her skirt and walked to her dresser, unbuttoning her
blouse. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Brown eyes, messy hair. Sweaty and flushed. Bah.
She didn’t look like anyone’s version of an attractive woman.

She stripped off her blouse, then headed for the bathroom, wrapping a towel around herself to

preserve her modesty. It was too hot for a robe and she just wanted to get cool. She snuck into the
bathroom and showered quickly, her brain racing over the same thoughts over and over. She pulled on
clean underwear. Was Jeremiel an angel? Did she care? What did Haniel mean? She was still
chewing over the idea of being someone’s mate when she collided with Jeremiel in the hall. She
squeaked.

“Easy.” Jeremiel grabbed her arms as she grabbed the towel, keeping it from sliding down.
Dear God, please let the earth swallow me up, she thought, mortified at being caught in a

towel, almost naked.

“You okay?” he asked.
She chewed on her lip. He was flushed, probably from the argument he’d had with Haniel.

“Uh,” she said, staring at him. His blue eyes mesmerized her.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to run into you,” he said, letting go.
She shivered at the loss of his hands. Was it her imagination or did he look nervous, suddenly.

“It’s okay.” She tried to go past him, but he didn’t budge. He was big enough to block the hall and he
stood there, staring at her. “What?” she finally asked, defensive.

He shook his head. “Shit.”
What the hell? Charmeine had no idea why he was upset. This couldn’t still be from the

argument? She watched him look at her, his intense blue eyes traveling down her body. She clutched
at her towel, willing herself not to blush. No such luck, she thought as his gaze burned holes in her
composure. Well, what was left of her mostly non-existent composure. Being so close to him felt like
standing on the edge of a cliff with an unbearable urge to jump.

“Charmeine—” he croaked, just as she attempted to push by again, but Haniel interrupted

before she could bring herself to move.

“Do you realize how you’re looking at her?” he said to Jeremiel from the top of the stairs.
Jeremiel’s head swiveled to his best friend. His expression went from angry to sad to

something so complicated she couldn’t even begin to figure it out.

“This is what I’m talking about, you know.” Haniel climbed the last step and moved closer.

“You can’t help the way you feel, not at all.” He looked at her, hazel eyes hot. “Neither can I.”

She took a nervous step back, hands twisted in her towel. “I have no idea what you’re talking

about.”

He sighed. “I know.” Then he reached for her, fingers tracing a line of fire along her cheek.

“You’re so beautiful.”

She frowned. Weren’t he and Jeremiel together? What was he doing?
“Stop,” Jeremiel said, sounding tortured.
Haniel’s fingers dropped away and he turned to his friend. “Why?”
Jeremiel closed his eyes. “Because I’m afraid you’re right.”
“Of course, I’m right. What I don’t understand is why you’re so reluctant,” Haniel said gently.
Jeremiel sighed. “My father wouldn’t understand this.”
Haniel pursed his lips angrily. A heartbeat passed. Then he blew out his breath harshly.

“Jeremiel, your father is dead. Gone to the winds. What he thinks no longer matters. None of them
matter. Not your parents, not mine. They repudiated our people.”

Charmeine couldn’t move. She wasn’t sure she wanted to anymore. The tension between the

two men was palpable and frightening, but it also called to her. Something about them touched the
deepest recesses of her soul and made her feel things she never thought she could. She swayed, light-
headed, and put a hand to the wall. The old wallpaper pricked her fingertips, but she hardly noticed.

Haniel touched Jeremiel’s face the same way he’d touched hers and abruptly, the two men were

kissing, hot and heavy, not one foot away from where she stood. She blushed, totally unable to look
away, and then Haniel reached out and drew her in, kissing her with just as much desperation as he’d
kissed Jeremiel.

Dear God, what is he doing? she thought brokenly. Nothing would ever be the same again.

She’d tried so hard not to want him. Them. Her fingers tightened on her towel convulsively. I don’t
care if this is insane. I want this. She threw herself into the kiss. He sensed her capitulation and
groaned, kissing deeper.

“Don’t stop,” she protested when he lifted his head, heat running through her the way lava flows

downhill, but then Jeremiel was there, mouth on hers. She let him pull her closer, folding her body up
against his until she let go of the towel. He tasted like blue skies. Like freedom. She squirreled
closer, wanting to climb inside him. He licked into her mouth, nipping her lips on the way in, and then
Haniel pushed up against her back, squeezing her between them. His cock was heavy and hard on her
ass as he breathed hotly against her neck.

“God, you smell so good, Charmeine,” he said, mouthing down her shoulder.
She shuddered and tried to wrench her brain into gear. Was she really doing this? What the hell

was she doing? Her fingers dug into Jeremiel’s arms. The marks on his skin felt hotter than the rest of
him, as if they were more than ordinary tattoos.

“I need—” Jeremiel began, but she kissed his words away. She needed, too, and quite

desperately. She needed answers and comfort and assurance. She craved these things that she’d
hadn’t had since her parents died. Since her grandmother left her to fend for herself.

“Fuck,” Haniel said, grinding harder against her body. “Jeremiel, bedroom.”
Jeremiel broke their kiss and she grabbed his hair, trying to bring him back. In answer, he

stepped back and picked her up, swinging her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist
and he stumbled, almost going down, but Haniel held him up. Her towel fluttered to the floor. She
didn’t care.

“God, hurry,” Haniel said, forging ahead. He pulled off his shirt, baring his shoulders and back.

His torso rippled with muscle and more. Charmeine stared. His back had the legacy marks of an
angel. She’d only seen them in a book.

“What are you?” she whispered.
He turned catching her eyes. His shoulders and left arm bore the marks of an angel, too. She

gasped.

“I’m broken,” he ground out. His face had twisted into anger, so she struggled to get down,

wanting to smooth all of his pain away.

Instead of letting her go, Jeremiel moved closer, tumbling her on the bed as he grabbed

Haniel’s arm.

“Stop it. There’s nothing broken about you,” he muttered, kissing the unmarked skin of his

friend’s right forearm gently.

Charmeine watched them, then moved in, too, as some dormant instinct told her to touch them

both. The moment she put her hands on them, heat flared. She sucked in a breath and kissed Haniel on
the mouth. He opened to her, like a man drowning. Jeremiel stripped off his shirt and climbed on the

bed, arms around them both. She kissed Haniel as if it were the last time, or possibly the first.
Nothing made sense except the taste of him on her lips. When Jeremiel leaned against her shoulder,
she turned to him, seeking his warmth. He kissed her, and then leaned back.

Charmeine put a fist against her chest to try and still the frantic beating of her heart. He was

lean and muscled and undeniably gorgeous. His blue eyes crackled with heat. Looking at him, she
couldn’t deny it anymore. He was an angel, born and bred. His legacy marks swirled up his arms and
over his shoulders like ink on water. He let her look her fill, then nodded.

“Yes. I’m an angel,” he said quietly. He ran a finger up his arm, then drew it down hers. She

shivered. “So is Haniel.”

She turned to stare at him. His blonde hair slid across his forehead as he looked away. “Not

anymore, I’m not,” he said bitterly.

Jeremiel growled. “That is a lie. You are just as much an angel now, as you were two years

ago.”

“I can’t fly,” Haniel told Charmeine, as though she would care. She didn’t. She was trying to

internalize what they’d just said without making a total fool of herself. A prick of awe ran through
her, but she stifled it. They were people before they were angels. And they were struggling through
something profound right in front of her. She licked her lips, working her way into an underlying
tragedy she didn’t quite understand. “I can’t fly either.”

Haniel went perfectly still. Jeremiel glanced at him, then took her hands in his. “No, you can’t.

And that doesn’t make you any less worthy of love, does it?”

She blinked. Love? Was he serious?
“You’ve made your point, Jeremiel,” Haniel said, running fingers down her back.
She shivered, abruptly remembering that she wore only a bra and panties.
Haniel pressed his palm against her spine and she trembled. He was so hot… She licked her

lips again. Jeremiel’s eyes dilated and he swooped in, kissing her. Haniel held her as she bowed
back, then his clever fingers unhooked her bra. She twisted, grabbing the fabric and flinging it away.
Jeremiel moved down, laving her nipples. She groaned, so aroused she couldn’t think, and he nipped
at her. Sparks ran through her skin and she writhed, already close to orgasm. God, how is this
possible? she wondered brokenly, clinging to Haniel’s shoulders.

Jeremiel slipped away and undid his shorts. With one swift move, he shoved them down. His

cock stood straight out, thick and flushed. She swallowed, wanting to taste him, but then Haniel
shifted and hooked his fingers into her panties.

“Can I take these off?” he asked, tugging at the lace.
She nodded, lifting her hips. When she was finally nude, a hint of worry shot through her, but

Jeremiel dropped to his knees and kissed up the inside of her thigh so reverently that she trembled,
overwhelmed.

“You smell incredible,” he muttered, moving up slightly.
I do? She had no idea a guy would like the way a woman smelled down there. She let him open

her legs, trying not to show how nervous she was. Her pussy throbbed. When his mouth reached her
core, he went still and simply breathed. She panted, hips jerking. Haniel’s arms went around her ribs,
holding her steady.

“Mmm, you like that?” he murmured into her ear.
She nodded, trying to get closer to Jeremiel. Her nerves be damned. This felt too good to let her

inexperience get in the way.

“Be still, and he’ll give you what you want,” Haniel said, low and sexy.

Charmeine gripped his arms, burning up from the inside. “What’s happening to me?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, Jeremiel flashed her a look fraught with danger, then dipped his

head. The moment his lips touched her clit, she cried out, pleasure snapping through her like a
firecracker. Dear God, I’m cumming, and he hardly even touched me! she thought, shocked. He
kissed her, then sucked on her clit, drawing out the spasms. Her orgasm peaked, and then peaked
again. When she finally slumped down, he kissed her gently before moving up, cock bobbing.

“I need to be inside you,” he said, voice hoarse.
She nodded, still caught in the aftershocks. She couldn’t move right now if she wanted to.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to. Haniel gently positioned her on the bed so he could strip off his shorts.
When he was naked, he helped shove pillows under her head. His cock was shorter than Jeremiel’s,
but thicker. Her mouth watered as heat began to spiral through her again. “Oh my God,” she
whispered as he pressed close, cock against her arm. She reached over, closing her fingers around
him. He groaned and she coaxed him closer, until he touched her lips. When she opened to him, he
clenched his fists and threw back his head.

“Jesus,” Jeremiel said, hands on her thighs. “Look at you.”
She didn’t know if he meant her or Haniel, and she didn’t care. She sucked on the tip, exploring

his flavor. She’d often wondered what this was like. Haniel tasted hot, like the sun when it heated
rocks along the ridgeline of the mountains above her home. She drew him in, wanting more. When
Jeremiel’s prick bumped her entrance, she moaned around the shaft in her mouth. Haniel groaned. He
was looking down at her now, eyes wild. She licked around the crown as Jeremiel rocked into her
little by little. He was almost too thick for her, but he went slow.

“You’re so tight,” he said.
Charmeine didn’t have the heart to tell him that she was a virgin. She deliberately sucked

harder, keeping her mouth occupied. She didn’t want anything to stop this, not now. Maybe not ever.

Chapter Six

Jeremiel gritted his teeth, not wanting to hurt Charmeine, but God, she felt so good. So perfect

for him. He glanced at Haniel and revised his thought. So perfect for them. Her hair was a mess and
her skin flushed, and she’d never been so beautiful. He rocked into her gently. Carefully. When his
dick met a soft barrier, he frowned, looking down at her. When he didn’t move, she pulled off of
Haniel, licking her lips.

“Don’t stop,” she said quietly.
He rocked forward, and again his cock met resistance. No. It couldn’t be…
She met his gaze. He froze, but she grabbed Haniel’s hands and used his strength to lift her hips.

Before Jeremiel could back away, she impaled herself on him, face going taut with pain.

“Oh my God, Charmeine,” he gasped, trying not to move. “What have you done?”
Haniel, thankfully, immediately understood. “You’re a virgin?” he asked her, holding her hands

tightly.

She smiled tightly. “Not anymore.”
“Dear God,” Jeremiel said, thighs flexing against what his body wanted. He needed to thrust, to

fuck into her again and again, but he refused to hurt her.

“Please don’t stop, Jeremiel,” she said, licking up Haniel’s dick.
He shivered, unable to stop himself, and then began to move gently. Too gently. He groaned,

leaning his head against Haniel’s hip. “I don’t know if I can do this.” He was going to cum, right the
hell now.

Haniel grabbed his hair and held him tightly. “You can. Just go slow.”
Jeremiel nodded, his cock sliding in again. There was no resistance anymore. He glanced at

Charmeine, hoping she was okay. She’d let go of Haniel and was watching him. “I’ve got you,”
Jeremiel said, trying to reassure her.

She bit her lip as he sped up. She liked that, he could see it on her face. Haniel let go of his hair

and moved down until his mouth was just over her pubic bone. Jeremiel slowed down even more,
anticipating the moment Haniel’s lips would touch them both. He didn’t have to wait long. His best
friend moved closer, then licked over Charmeine’s clit lightly. She cried out, bucking until Jeremiel
had to grab her hips. His cock swelled even more. Then Haniel moved his mouth down and as
Jeremiel pulled out, he licked the shaft.

“Fuck.” Jeremiel lost it. He shoved back in uncontrollably, only to be stopped by Haniel’s

hand. He’d wrapped it around the root of his cock, keeping him from hurting Charmiene. He cupped
Jeremiel’s balls, then leaned down to lick Charmiene again. He did this over and over until Jeremiel
thought he’d lose his mind. He was so close, yet Haniel kept him from going over the edge with his
tight fist on his dick. It was agony and ecstasy, all at the same time. Watching Charmeine thrash on the
bed, he knew she was feeling the same thing.

“Please,” he panted, all control lost. His legacy marks burned, almost feeling like he had to

shift, but that was impossible. He hadn’t lost control of himself in years. When Haniel guided him out
of Charmeine and into his mouth, he growled as the sensations spreading from his cock through his
spine triggered the change. He reared up, hands going wide, and abruptly his wings erupted more
violently than he could ever remember. It didn’t hurt, not exactly, but it wasn’t precisely pleasant.

“Oh my God,” Charmeine breathed, staring as his wings spread out behind him. “You really are

an angel.” Her incredulous tone told him she hadn’t really believed it.

Too late now to deny anything, Jeremiel realized. He shuddered, cock still aching, even as he

stretched out, working free the kinks in his wing bones. Haniel had backed off, eyes bright with joy
and a touch of sadness. Jeremiel touched his face, and Haniel smiled, thank God. Then he guided
Jeremiel’s prick back down into Charmeine’s soft heat.

She trembled as he entered her, so swollen he knew she could feel every ridge and bump as he

let himself sink inside. Haniel lay down beside Charmeine, hands on his own dick. When Charmeine
reached over and wrapped her fingers around his cock, Haniel groaned, spine arching. He rolled
closer, fingers going to her clit. He was incredibly thick and Jeremiel knew he was close. Watching
them touch each other triggered his climax and he cried out, wings almost taking him off the bed as the
pleasure ripped through him.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Haniel murmured, but Jeremiel barely heard him. His cock pulsed once,

twice, then again and he fell forward, trying not to crush Charmeine.

“Gorgeous,” Haniel said, kissing Jeremiel’s jaw.
Charmeine squirmed beneath him, and with an act of extraordinary will, he moved off her,

falling to the bed. She protested, but Haniel was already moving, rolling her so that her back was to
Jeremiel. He cradled her with arms and wings, and then Haniel was sliding inside her. The look on
his best friend’s face was almost more than Jeremiel could bear, but he couldn’t turn away. He loved
him. The realization nearly broke him, but he shoved the thought down before he could lose it. He
already knew he loved Haniel. This was nothing new. Not really.

“Charmeine, you’re so beautiful,” Haniel said, fucking her slowly.
She wrapped her legs around him, pushing her ass into Jeremiel’s body. He didn’t mind, not at

all. He grinned and held her steady as Haniel fucked, and then he slid his hand down to play with her
clit. She hadn’t climaxed again, so she was past due. He rubbed gently and she writhed. When
Haniel’s breath started to hitch, he circled the swollen nub faster. Charmeine grabbed his arm and
squeezed. She was almost there.

Haniel dropped his head onto her shoulder and thrust in short, hard movements, his strength

rocking the three of them on the bed. Suddenly, Charmeine stiffened, and Jeremiel felt the way her
pussy clenched on Haniel’s dick. She orgasmed, shoving pleasure through him, as though their minds
were connected, not just their bodies. Shockingly, his half-hard dick throbbed against her skin, and
then Haniel cried out, too. Jeremiel held his breath as he hung onto them, then had to let go as fire
raced over his palms.

“Oh God,” Charmeine moaned, half-pleasured, half-pained. Jeremiel gasped as his cock

twitched with another orgasm. Haniel slumped over them, face twisted. When Charmiene groaned
again, he looked down and froze. Her arms and shoulders were on fire.

****
Charmeine grabbed onto Haniel and Jeremiel, not understanding what was happening to her.

Her skin felt like she’d been branded, but the pain faded almost immediately. Light shined through her
fingers and she flinched until she realized it didn’t hurt. “What’s happening to me?” she asked, still
shaking with the aftereffects of the most intense orgasm of her life. Pleasuring herself never felt like
this.

“Jesus,” Haniel said, falling back. He clapped a hand over his right arm, grimacing. Light

flowed from the legacy marks on his left arm and his shoulders, but his right remained dark. It looked
wrong, like a dark cloud eclipsing the moon. She reached out to him, wanting to smooth the pain from
his face, but then Jeremiel writhed on the bed, his wings gleaming with a rainbow of light. His arms

and shoulders glowed, the marks almost incandescent. Haniel shied away from her touch.

Charmeine shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. The light on her arms began to fade and

she stared down at her skin, shocked. Legacy marks swirled up her arms to her shoulders. They were
dark, then light, then a swirl of colors. Every time she tried to focus on them, it was as if they
changed. They looked like iridescent feathers streaking her skin. She swallowed, hard.

“Charmeine, are you all right?” Haniel asked. “We didn’t hurt you, did we?”
She looked at him. His glow had faded a little, but his face was still tense. “I should be asking

you that,” she said, reaching out to him again. This time, he let her trace her fingers over his arm.
“What are you?”

He took a deep breath. “I was an angel.”
“You still are,” Jeremiel said, shifting beneath them. His wings still glowed faintly. He was so

beautiful it hurt her eyes to look at him. He kissed her shoulder.

Haniel frowned. “I used to be able to fly, but a demon burned the marks right off my arm.” He

lifted his right arm. “Our Omega healed the demon-fire damage, but he couldn’t repair my lost legacy.
I can’t shift anymore. Can’t fly.”

Charmeine smoothed her fingers down his skin until their palms touched. “That doesn’t make

you any less an angel. You were born to the skies.” She looked away, avoiding Jeremiel’s gaze. “I
yearned to fly my whole life, but I’m only human. I’ll never know that joy.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Jeremiel said softly.
She turned to him. “What do you mean?”
He lifted her hands, turning her arms this way and that. “Look. You have the full complement of

legacy marks now. I don’t know how or why—”

“Were there angels in your family, Charmeine?” Haniel asked, interrupting his friend.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so.” She thought of her grandmother, how the old woman had

always hinted about her first love. She’d sworn he was an angel, though no one believed her.
Charmeine always thought her grandmother meant he was just a really good person. She didn’t think
her grandma meant it literally. “Maybe. My grandmother had an affair with someone before she
married my grandpa. She said he died, in some war, but the timing was always strange.”

Jeremiel and Haniel exchanged glances.
“Valoel,” Haniel murmured.
She sucked in a breath. “How do you know that name?”
“You recognize it?” Jeremiel asked.
Instead of answering, she climbed off the bed and grabbed a small picture frame from her

dresser. She brought it over and sat down, showing them the photo of her grandmother when she was
young. “This is my grandmother. She was nineteen when this was taken.” She flipped it over and
pried open the back. Another photo slipped out, grainy and faded. “This is the man she claimed was
my real grandfather. Valoel.” She picked it up and showed them. “She swore he was an angel. I
thought she said that because he died before they could be married. That he was a good man.”

“That’s Valoel,” Haniel said, taking the picture from her. “I recognize him from the archives.”
“Archives?” Charmeine took the photo back and tucked it in its place. Her hand shook. How

could she be an angel? Even if Valoel was her true grandfather, all the rest of her forebears were
human.

“Castle Archangel is the seat of our people. There are books there and some of them have

photos of the angels from the early twentieth century. Valoel was one of our explorers. He went
missing decades ago.” Jeremiel’s voice was soft. “We thought he faded, like so many others.”

She frowned. “You keep saying that. What exactly do you mean by faded?”
Haniel’s shoulders went tense. “A lot of us commit suicide by giving up. It’s easy to just fly off,

then let go. Our bodies fade into mist and God takes us back.” He shook his head harshly. “I think it’s
cowardly. We need our people to be strong, now more than ever.”

She bit her lip, afraid of what he meant. “Demons?” she asked in a small voice, thinking about

how she’d felt something watching her now and again the past several months.

Jeremiel nodded. “Yeah.”
She shook her head, not wanting to go down that road. “None of this makes me an angel. I can’t

fly. The whole idea is crazy.”

“But you have legacy marks now.” Haniel traced his hand over her arm. “Only angels have

these marks.”

She shivered. “I don’t understand how that happened. And I certainly don’t know how to shift.”
“There’s precedent. Our blade master’s mate was half-human, half-angel. Nathaniel was born

with legacy marks, but couldn’t fly.” Jeremiel paused. “When he bonded to his mate, he gained the
ability to shift into angelic form.”

She stared at him. He was serious? “What do you mean by mate?”
“Some of our people have true mates, bonded lovers chosen by God,” Haniel explained.
“Wait, no.” She stood up and started pacing the room nude, then put the photo back on her

dresser. Her grandmother stared up at her from the picture, smiling serenely. Charmeine felt anything
but. “You’re saying we mated?” She grabbed a pair of her sweatpants and pulled them on, then
shrugged into a t-shirt. She didn’t feel comfortable being naked right now.

Jeremiel stood too, his wings taking up most of the space in the room. She stared at him,

mesmerized despite her misgivings. He was so beautiful. The feathers were all different colors: grey,
black, white, blue, even dusky pink on some of the edges. “I think we may be bonding, yes,” he said.
He, too, put on his shorts. He picked up Haniel’s and threw them on the bed.

So much for the afterglow, she thought sadly. She would’ve liked to cuddle for a little bit. She

glanced at Haniel. His face was closed down, eyes shuttered. “But that’s impossible. There are two
of you. How can we be bonding?” she asked.

“Obviously you and Jeremiel are destined for each other,” Haniel said. He rolled away from

them, jabbing his feet into his shorts.

Charmeine shook her head. “No, no way.” She wrung her hands together. “No.”
Jeremiel nodded. “I agree with her. If we’re bonding, it’s all three of us.”
Haniel stood up abruptly. “Are you crazy? I’m not even a true angel anymore!” He headed for

the door.

Charmeine laughed shortly. “I’m not an angel at all.”
He stopped just inside the doorframe, back bowed. Charmeine waited, but he didn’t move. She

was about to speak when he spun around. “Do you hear that?”

She frowned and glanced at Jeremiel, confused by the rapid change of subject. He’d gone still,

head cocked.

“Hear what?” he asked.
“Crackling.” Haniel strode out the door and down the hall.
“What is he talking about?” she asked Jeremiel.
He stood up and walked to the door. “Wait.” He held up his hand.
A trickle of worry slid through her. When Haniel burst back into the room, naked blades in his

hands, her worry turned to fear. She turned around, staring at her window. Dusk had fallen while

they’d made love, but the shadows didn’t disturb her. Rather, the prickle at the back of her neck that
told her she was being watched, again, was what made her step away and put her back to the wall.

Chapter Seven

“Demons,” Haniel hissed, ignoring the pain in his legacy marks. “Dear God, help us,” he

muttered. A spasm of pain shot through him and he cursed under his breath. Now was not a good time
for him to be fighting his body’s urge to shift. He couldn’t afford weakness. Not with Charmeine here,
needing his protection. He lifted his blade toward the window, setting his stance into a guard
position. Jeremiel came up beside him and he silently handed his friend his weapon.

“What kind?” Jeremiel asked tersely. “Can you tell?”
Haniel had always been better at sensing evil than Jeremiel, much to both of their frustration.

That had been what led them to the demon at Castle Archangel two years ago, the one that burned his
arm. He’d learned his lesson, though. He no longer rushed in, with no backup and no plan. “I’m not
sure. Something powerful. Not a boar demon. We should be careful.” He cursed again. “We’re boxed
in here.”

“That’s not good,” Jeremiel said, striding forward. He pushed back Charmeine’s frilly curtains

and peered outside. All was silent and dark. Even the normal hum of crickets was absent.

Definitely not good, Haniel thought.
“I don’t see anything,” Charmeine said, creeping forward.
“Stay back,” Haniel said, moving closer. He checked the other window, the one nearer the bed.

Suddenly, a pillar of eye-searing light flared up outside, shattering the pane and spattering him with
molten glass. He growled, blade up and ready, but he knew he couldn’t do a damn thing until the
demon showed itself. And Charmeine’s curtains were already on fire.

“We need to get out of here,” Jeremiel said, backing away from the window.
“Too late,” Haniel said grimly. A slim form stepped through the flames.
“Definitely too late,” the creature said, smiling as if he were out for a stroll on the beach.
That’s a Demon Lord, Haniel thought, shocked. He didn’t waste breath replying. He just lunged

forward, blade low and deadly. He managed to slice the demon’s arm, but the creature shook off his
blade with a mild look of distaste. Haniel tightened his grip. Striking the demon had felt like trying to
slice through a metal girder. His fingers were numb.

“Why would you think that could harm me?” the demon asked contemptuously. His irises flared

red, as if he were made of fire, inside and out.

“What are you?” Charmeine asked faintly, sounding terrified.
Damn it. We have to get her out of this. Haniel frowned, moving in front of her. “Begone.” He

lifted his blade again, trying to keep the demon’s attention on him. “In the name of God, I banish you
—”

Jeremiel lunged, but the demon was too fast. He swung out an arm that suddenly had talons at

least a foot long sprouting from the surface, like spines on a poisonous fish. Jeremiel ducked, barely
escaping injury. Haniel slashed again, but the heat from the fire was spreading. They had to get out of
here.

“Stupid angels,” the demon said, lifting his arms. The back of the room erupted into flames.
Haniel looked at his best friend. There was only one way out of here: jump. Except Haniel

couldn’t fly. Jeremiel could carry Charmeine, but he would have to take his chances. I accept that.
Anything to protect Charmeine and Jeremiel. He nodded slightly and Jeremiel scooped her up, then
leaped through the burning wall, wings flaring wide as he hit the air outside. Embers scattered around

him as the demon screamed.

“You won’t get away that easily!”
Haniel took off after them, wishing he still had his wings. This was going to hurt, a lot. On the

way out, he twisted and slashed, fighting off the demon’s rage. To his astonishment, one thrust caught
the creature on the edge of his neck. His weapon ground against the scales that had replaced the
creature’s flesh, then slipped underneath. Blood welled up like a fountain, black as tar, and then
twisted the blade as he fell, the demon’s shocked face seared into his mind.

Just when he thought he would hit the ground way too hard for survival, slim arms caught his

wrists and pulled him into the air.

****
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Charmeine chanted, dragging Haniel up just enough to break his

fall. They landed hard, rolling over the uneven ground of her back yard. Her wings were soft and
weak and tumbling over them didn’t exactly feel great. By the time she came to a stop, she hurt. When
she looked up and back, her entire house crackled with flames, like something out of a movie.

“What just happened?” Haniel panted, crushing her legs.
“She saved your damn life,” Jeremiel said, landing on his knees beside them. “Oh Jesus, let me

see, Charmeine. Careful.”

His hair is a mess, was all she could think as he gently extracted her arms from her feathers. “I

flew,” she said. She swallowed dirt, then coughed.

“We need to get out of here,” Jeremiel said, smoothing his hands down her wings in a way that

fixed everything wrong. “Let me just get you straightened out here.”

“I didn’t know I could fly,” she croaked.
Haniel grabbed her hands. “I am so glad you could.” He kissed her fingers.
She squeezed him tight enough to make him grimace. “I’m so sorry.”
Haniel laughed, then kissed her. “Are you kidding me? You’re sorry? For what? Saving my

life?”

“I don’t know how I did that.” She leaned into Jeremiel hands, still trying to catch her breath. “I

just grabbed you, by instinct. I don’t even know how I got away from Jeremiel.” She shook her head.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“We’re getting the hell away from here before that monster comes out and kills us, that’s what

we’re doing. We don’t have the firepower to stand against a demon lord,” Jeremiel muttered, settling
the last feather into place. “There.”

“He’s not coming after us.” Haniel stood up and stared back at her house. The flames cast

shadows over his face.

“What do you mean?” Jeremiel asked. He stood up, too, hauling Charmeine with him.
She clutched his arm, unbalanced. Her wings were so big she couldn’t stand properly. An acrid

breeze wafted towards them from the house and she coughed as smoke stung her throat.

“I cut off his head on the way out,” Haniel said mildly.
Jeremiel stared at the other angel, eyes wide. “Are you sure?”
Haniel nodded.
Charmeine watched Jeremiel. His face went from surprised to worried.
“Good, but that just means we have his pack to deal with now. Otherwise, the house would’ve

stopped burning. We still need to get out of here. They’ll be even worse without a master.” He began
to pull her back towards the trail shelter. The trees loomed dark and silent above them, in direct
contrast to the licking flames consuming the house.

“Shit. You’re right.” Haniel backed up, blade still in his hands. It was caked with dirt, but he

didn’t seem to notice. “Boar demons,” he said to Charmeine, unnervingly.

“What are boar demons?” Charmeine tried not to look too closely at the fire. She couldn’t deal

with the loss of her home right now. And it seemed they had bigger worries, anyway. She stumbled
when her foot caught on a rock. Jeremiel kept her from going down.

“They’re like attack dogs, only bigger,” he said, still pulling her backward. Somehow, he’d

managed to hang onto his blade and he held it up defensively.

“And they can spit acid,” Haniel added.
Unnecessary details, she thought. She really, truly didn’t need to know that. “And they’ll be

after us? Won’t they just run away if their master is dead?” What she knew about demons could fit on
the head of a pin.

Jeremiel pried her hands loose from his arm and set them on a tree. “Here. Hold onto that. Try

and move your wings, gently. You need to get a feel for them.”

“Oh my God,” she breathed, not listening to him. Dark shapes came out of the fire and stalked

toward them. They looked like small tanks—big and sturdy, except they moved more like wolves.
How could something so ugly be so graceful? she wondered even as she fought to control her fear.
Her heart beat so hard she worried she was about to stroke out. She clenched her hands around the
tree, tearing off chunks of bark as she shuddered.

“God damn it, there are at least ten of them,” Haniel said harshly.
“What do we do?” Charmeine asked, fingers moving over the tree. She grabbed hold of a

branch. The muscles in her wings tensed and she floated just off the ground without even trying. She’d
managed to rip off the tree limb and held it in front of her, for all the good it would do. Wood burned.

Jeremiel glanced at her. “If they overwhelm us, fly away. Save yourself.”
She glared at him. “No.” She wasn’t going to abandon them. Not now. Not ever. She eyed the

boar demons with the same combination of fear and determination that she’d used to deal with her
grandmother’s illness and death.

“Charmeine, please,” he begged.
She shook her head. He gave her a searing look, but he had no more time to persuade her. The

demons were too close. She clenched her fists around her makeshift weapon, staring intently. If she
was going to die, she wanted to know what killed her. The demons’ smoky breath steamed in the air
as if they’d been chewing on lava and their eyes, God. They looked like embers and ash. She could
barely focus on their scales and talons because some instinct inside her told her that they had far more
dangerous weapons than mere armor. That same instinct unfurled her wings and she floated up more
—not to get away, but to gain higher ground in order to fight more effectively.

Haniel struck first, slashing with his blade so fast the edge blurred. Jeremiel was right behind

him, severing horns and talons, but right away Charmeine knew it wasn’t going to be enough.

Oh dear God, please help us. I want to live, she prayed desperately. Especially now that I’ve

just found them. She flew closer, stick out in front of her, but there was no way for her to help
without getting in the way. Her wings drooped, mirroring her frustration. Haniel and Jeremiel worked
like a well-oiled machine‚ one slashing while the other distracted the creatures. Unfortunately, even
the most efficient of machines sometime fail, and Charmeine saw the exact moment Jeremiel’s foot
turned. He slipped on the slick grass and Haniel grabbed for him, but it was too late. A boar demon
leaped through the air at them, muscles bulging obscenely.

Charmeine cried out, dropping her stick as she opened her arms, fear and grief and horror

flowing through her in a wave that felt almost tangible. Her hands cramped and a shimmering barrier

flowed through her and out, just in time to cover Jeremiel and Haniel. The shimmer spread through
their bodies and wavered in the air like an aurora. The boar demon crashed into it and screamed as
his flesh sizzled.

Haniel’s eyes went wide as the boar burst into flames. For a split second he stared, then his leg

shot out and he kicked at the creature frantically. The shimmer-shield flickered and almost died, but
Charmeine finally realized that she controlled it and poured more energy into it. She clenched her
fists and pushed with something inside her, praying desperately that the shield would hold. When
Jeremiel glanced at her, the colors of the shield danced in his eyes and down his wings. He grinned
fiercely, then stood up and slashed with his blade. The weapon moved with the shield instead of
through it. His energy reinforced the shield, giving it more strength. He hit another demon and
incinerated it.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, God, Charmeine chanted under her breath, tears pouring

down her face.

When Haniel saw Jeremiel’s success, he joined his lover, slashing with abandon and adding his

energy to the shield as well. Charmeine didn’t understand how or why they could do this, but she
sensed that it was something inherent to their angelic nature. The three of them held this power
together. She knew that with all her being. She held on and held on, growing more and more tired, but
she refused to fall until the last demon was dead. When Jeremiel finally let his blade slide from his
hands, Charmeine knew it was all over. She let the shield go and fell to the ground.

Haniel shouted, sprinting for her, but the dark swallowed her up.

Chapter Eight

Jeremiel cupped Charmeine’s face, worried. She was breathing and had no visible wounds, but

she wasn’t moving. Her body had automatically shifted back to human and now she wouldn’t wake
up.

“Raphael says we should let her sleep and wake up on her own. She just needs rest,” Haniel

said, slipping Jeremiel’s cell phone back into his pocket.

It was random chance that my phone was in his shorts pocket and escaped the fire, Jeremiel

thought, suppressing a shiver. Haniel rarely used the phone. He didn’t like to talk with the angels back
home. How his mobile had ended up in Haniel’s pants was a mystery to them both, but he wasn’t
going to complain. They needed all the luck they could get. Charmeine’s house was gone. They had
only the clothes on their bodies. “How does Raphael know that?” he asked Haniel, peeved. “He’s all
the way up north at Castle Archangel.”

“He said that anytime an angel’s gift manifests, it takes a lot of energy. Sometimes too much.

Sleep is the best thing for her.” Haniel dropped to his knees beside Jeremiel and leaned against him.
“I’m worried about her too, but Raphael said this is normal.”

“She won’t wake up. How is that normal?” Jeremiel bowed over her, kissing her shoulder.
“She’s breathing, her heart rate is good, and she’s not cold. She just looks like she’s sleeping.”

Haniel slipped an arm around Jeremiel’s waist. “Come on. Let’s lie down and get some rest. We
have a lot of stuff to figure out tomorrow.” He tugged until Jeremiel leaned back. “Good thing
Charmeine had some bedding set up in here or we’d be in for a very uncomfortable night.”

Jeremiel sighed. Haniel was right. They were exhausted. After the demon lord and his creatures

had done their best to tear them to pieces, all he wanted to do was sleep for days, but he couldn’t stop
thinking about the shield. He’d never heard or seen of such a thing. “What happened out there?” he
whispered.

Haniel took a long time to answer. “I think we have a gift, like Raphael’s healing or Suriel’s

sorcery.” He shifted his weight, moving closer. His warmth soothed Jeremiel. “Did you see her
wings?” he whispered softly.

“Did you see mine?” Jeremiel asked. He could scarcely believe what had happened. His

ordinary brown wings had become multicolored, just like Charmeine’s. “Everything’s different now.”

“I bet if I could shift, my wings would look like yours and hers, too.” Haniel tightened his hold.

“I miss it.”

Jeremiel closed his eyes as the familiar pain rose up in him. It broke his heart to see Haniel

hurting, but there was nothing he could do. At least they were alive and together. “I know,” he
murmured, knowing that it didn’t help.

****
The next morning dawned earlier than Jeremiel wanted. He groaned, rolling over. He was

exhausted; he could feel it in his bones. He just wanted to rest some more, but when a soft barrier
stopped his fidgeting, he opened his eyes to find Charmeine smiling at him. He leaned up on his
elbow, relieved to see her looking so aware. “You’re awake. Thank God.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You were worried?”
He touched her forehead. No fever. Her eyes were clear. “Yeah.” His voice was hoarse.
“I’m fine,” she said, opening her arms. “See?” Her curls slid over her shoulders.
He stared at her. Hell, he couldn’t help but look. Even sleep-mussed she was spectacular. The

thin tank top she wore did nothing to disguise her nipples. Her wings had ripped out the back and it
sagged so low he could see the mounds of her breasts. She’d look less provocative if she were nude.
His cock twitched.

“I see you. I definitely see you,” he said, arousal spiraling through him. He wanted to touch her,

but he was afraid she’d turn into a dream. He’d tossed and turned all night, worrying.

Her smile faded. “I’m okay, Jeremiel. Really. See?” She touched his arm and drew his hand to

her breast, of all places. “I’m fine.”

He swallowed, eyes flicking past her. Haniel had woken and was watching him, face solemn in

the morning light. God, he was such a goner, on both of them. He let his fingers drift across
Charmeine’s nipple, enjoying her slight gasp. Haniel’s eyes darkened. “You like that.” His hand
stilled. He wasn’t sure which one of them he was teasing.

Charmeine nodded. “Don’t stop.” Haniel’s luminous hazel eyes urged him to do more.
Jeremiel licked his lips and leaned in. She stretched up to meet him, and suddenly they were

kissing. She tasted like morning and light and home. She made a little sound and he gathered her up
into his arms, holding tightly. He poured all his worry and fear into the kiss—he couldn’t help it. She
took all his pain into her body and gentled it, then turned the tables, kissing him roughly, hands in his
hair.

“I’m fine,” she growled.
He smiled tightly, not resisting her hold. Haniel sat up and kissed the back of her neck. Her

fingers opened.

“We know,” Haniel murmured, nibbling down her shoulder. He moved in closer, kissing under

her ear, then he turned her head and kissed her swollen lips. “You are so damn fine,” he murmured.

Jeremiel watched, knowing that his best friend could taste him on her.
“I want to fuck you, is that okay?” Haniel asked.
She moaned sexily, her breath catching. Jeremiel took that for agreement and eased her down

onto the pile of blankets. He made short work of her sweat pants. Haniel already had his clothes off.
When Jeremiel scooted down and kissed her mound, she arched her back and he smiled. “You’re
going to like this.” He bent his head down and licked her clit, loving the sounds she made. He knew
he was being selfish, making Haniel wait, but he’d worried so much about her that he couldn’t help it.
He wanted to make her scream with pleasure, just to prove she was truly alive and well.

“Jesus, that’s hot,” Haniel muttered. He bent in closer.
Jeremiel shifted slightly to make room for him, and then they were both pleasuring her. Her

pussy was already wet and ready, so he slid two fingers into her. She writhed. He smiled against her
clit. When Haniel used her own wetness to tickle at the puckered rosebud of her anus, Jeremiel
almost came in his shorts. He’d never seen anything so sexy in his life as Charmeine opening herself
to both of them.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he encouraged her. He licked her clit again, feeling it throb against his tongue.

When he leaned back, Haniel added another finger, stretching her tight hole.

“I want you both,” she said thickly, tugging on his hair.
Jeremiel had to press his hand against his dick, hard. The seam of his shorts bit into the

sensitive skin, but he didn’t care. He needed the pain so he wouldn’t cum in his pants like a teenager.

“I’m going to fuck you, and then Jeremiel is going to come inside you, right here.” Haniel

moved his fingers in her ass, his voice low and steady. Clearly he was fighting for control, too.

Jeremiel kneeled up, breathing hard. He had to calm down if he didn’t want to hurt her. They

had to take this slow. He took off his shorts, then waited while Haniel rolled her over. The long,

sleek line of her spine drew Jeremiel’s gaze down to her spectacular ass as Haniel lifted her up
slowly, but she wouldn’t cooperate.

“Too slow,” she said as she grabbed Haniel’s dick and slid down, closing her eyes as he

fucked into her.

“Oh God.” Jeremiel clenched his fists, watching. Haniel’s dusky prick looked huge as it moved

into her tiny body. It was hard to believe that they were her first lovers. He loved that they were the
only ones to ever touch her, depraved soul that he was. He moved closer, hands going to her perfect
hips. Long brown hair slid over her shoulder as she looked back at him. “You ready?” he asked.

She nodded, biting her lip. Haniel sped up, then stopped completely. Jeremiel teased at her

hole, making sure she was relaxed. His fingers slipped in easily and she pushed back slightly,
encouraging him. He grabbed his cock and set the tip right at her entrance. “Breathe,” he told her.

She let out an explosive breath as he pushed in gently, but inexorably. She’s so tight, he

thought, going as slow as he could stand. She gasped when the crown went in, and then he thrust a
little harder. He almost lost it when he felt Haniel’s cock through the thin barrier of her body.

“Jeremiel,” Haniel gritted out. “Move.”
“Yes, what he said,” Charmeine added, her voice a breathy exclamation. “You won’t hurt me.

I’m not made of glass.”

He grinned against Charmeine’s shoulder, then began to move in earnest. Every thrust moved

all three of them, and he realized that he wasn’t just making love to Charmeine, he was also fucking
Haniel. His best friend looked up at him over Charmeine’s shoulder, eyes dark with arousal. Jeremiel
couldn’t look away, couldn’t do anything but move faster, fucking until the pleasure shot out of him in
a great, electric wave.

Somehow, he managed to get a hand between Charmeine and Haniel. The moment he touched

her clit, she screamed and orgasmed, squeezing him so tightly he climaxed again. Impossible, his
mind yelled, but his body didn’t listen. When Haniel finally went over, all three of them shuddered
and their shimmer-shield sprang up around them, teasing their skin with energy. Jeremiel clenched his
fists around the bedding as his cock hardened again, impossibly.

Haniel grabbed his arms and Charmiene squirmed between them and all three rode the wave

together this time, pleasure shooting between and through them in one gigantic movement.

****
When Jeremiel was finally able to think again, he gently fell over next to Haniel. Charmeine

slumped into them as aftershocks shivered through her.

“Well,” Haniel said hoarsely.
Jeremiel laughed. “Very descriptive, my friend.”
Charmeine giggled, pressing her face into his shoulder. “Um, yeah.”
“Oh my God, you two are totally nonverbal,” Jeremiel complained, feeling as though he could

do anything.

“Can we do that again?” Charmeine asked, lifting her head. The right side of her face was pink

from pressing against Haniel’s skin. She looked adorable.

“Yeah, definitely,” Haniel said, then snorted. “Except I don’t think I can get it up until

tomorrow.”

She grinned. “Um, that’s okay. I think I need a day to recover.”
“Well thank God for that,” Jeremiel said, wincing slightly. His dick felt a little bit raw.
“You should take her flying,” Haniel said then, unexpectedly.
“Wait, what?” Charmeine asked, sitting up. “Are you serious?”

Jeremiel frowned.
Haniel continued before he could say anything. “No, seriously. We’re rested and relaxed. You

know as well as I do how important that is when you’re first learning how to fly.”

Damn it, he’s right, Jeremiel thought, unhappily. Except I don’t really want to teach her

without my best friend by my side. He knew he had no choice though. She had to learn sometime and
the sooner the better.

“You have no choice. At some point she’s going to need to protect herself, and it’s better if she

learns how now, instead of in the middle of battle,” Haniel continued, unconsciously echoing
Jeremiel’s thoughts. “We were lucky last night.”

Jeremiel pressed his lips together, then nodded. “Haniel’s right.”
Charmeine looked from Haniel to him and back again. “But I don’t want to leave you here by

yourself,” she said quietly. She touched Haniel’s arm, running her fingers down the faint scars where
his legacy marks should be.

Haniel smiled and kissed her hand. “It’s okay. You need to do this.”
She glanced at Jeremiel. He nodded slowly. “You do.”
****
A half hour later, Charmeine stood in the clearing that used to be her back yard. Her house had

burned to the ground so quickly the night before, the fire department hadn’t even realized it was on
fire. And since none of them had had time to call for help, it was likely no one in town even knew her
house was gone. Jeremiel explained that was what happened with demon fire: it consumed everything
in its path as quickly as possible, until the demon who began the burning and all his dogs were
destroyed. There hadn’t even been much smoke, just the acrid soot she remembered choking on last
evening.

“Okay. Let’s do this,” she said, turning her back on the remains of her house. Blackened stones

poked up out of charred ground like cemetery markers. She shuddered. She couldn’t focus on her lost
home right now. Not if she wanted to stay relaxed, like Jeremiel said she needed to in order to do
this. “What do I do?”

He lifted his palms, his bare chest distractingly attractive in the sunlight. “First, shift into angel

form.” His body rippled and abruptly, his wings swept out from his body. They were still
multicolored and somehow even more impressive than they’d been in the dark. “Stretch your wings
and get a feel for how they work.” He moved his up and down.

Does he know he’s insanely gorgeous? Charmeine wondered, having trouble concentrating.

She was still having trouble tearing her gaze from the muscles of his chest. She remembered all too
well what that body had felt like against her back as he made love to her.

“Go on, try to shift,” he encouraged, oblivious to her wandering thoughts.
She forced herself to pay attention to her body. She lifted her arms in front of her, staring at the

marks on her skin. They were weird. Unfamiliar. She touched one, tracing her finger up the swirls. As
she relaxed, getting used to the way her forearms looked now, she sensed a curious unfolding in her
center. It began at her sternum and moved downwards and in, deep inside her body. Before she really
understood what was happening, her wings shifted out into the morning light.

“Ah, beautiful,” Jeremiel murmured, smiling. “Let them stretch.”
She did as he asked, tipping her head back to examine the feathers above her head. The smoky

grey, white, brown, and blue colors fluttered in the light breeze. It felt good to open them. “You know,
I already flew once. Last night,” she said, moving her wings around.

He nodded and moved closer. “I know, but that was an emergency. It’s always better to go

through the whole thing consciously at least once, so you know how everything works.” He shook out
his wings, floating off the ground slightly. “Flying for us is instinctive. Natural. We don’t use our
wings quite like birds do because we can draw the energy of the winds into our beings, not just float
on air currents.” He floated higher. “We sense the air and sky and use it to become one with God’s
creation.”

She watched him move higher and higher, then let herself go. Her feet left the ground. It was as

easy as opening a fist. As easy as feeling the wind in her hair. “Good thing I’m not afraid of heights,”
she said cheekily.

He laughed. “That’s pretty rare for angels.”
She blinked, still disconcerted at how easily he referred to her as one of them. “What’s next?”
He opened his arms and went higher. “Now, you learn to fly.”
She floated higher, wanting to keep up with him. “Isn’t that what we’re doing?”
“We don’t need the wind to float, but we use it to soar. Let the air flow through your wings and

you’ll begin to sense what I mean. All you have to do is let yourself be free.” He tilted his body,
grinning. “I feel a thermal.” He soared away, heading for the ridge that stretched behind her property.

“Fly. Let myself feel it,” she murmured, flexing her muscles. Her wings swayed gently, feeling

less and less awkward and more like they’d always been part of her, hiding in the midst of her
humanity. She looked up, taking in the blue sky that stretched to infinity above her. This is truly a
taste of heaven, she mused, skin tingling. When the thermal caught her primaries, she let it lift her into
the great unknown.

Chapter Nine

Haniel watched his two lovers fly off. When they disappeared over the mountain, he finally let

out the grimace he’d been holding back for the past fifteen minutes. The moment Jeremiel had talked
Charmeine into shifting, his stupid body had rebelled and begun trying to force him to shift. If only I
could, he thought bitterly, clenching his teeth as another wave of pain moved through him. Usually, he
could go at least a month and a half without suffering through the urge to shift, but not this time. Most
angels knew better than to let their bodies and instincts take over and force the shift to happen, but he
had no choice but to suffer this again and again. I’d give almost anything to fly, especially if it meant
I could soar the skies with Charmeine and Jeremiel both. Of course, that would never happen. He
had to get used to reality. Accept it, for once and all, but it was difficult when the pain that tormented
him was both physical and mental.

“God, please help me,” he gasped, going to his knees. The urge to get somewhere high and just

jump, maybe end his pain forever, felt like a burning ember tickling at the back of his spine. And he
knew the feeling was only going to get worse. He wanted to shift, desperately, but his body was
damaged beyond repair. He usually didn’t remember much of what happened because the pain was so
intense. If it would’ve helped, he’d have carved off his skin years ago, but he knew there was nothing
he could do.

He groaned, rolling onto his back so he could feel the grass on his skin. It helped a little. He

could feel the dirt and see the sky. Before he could take a breath, though, the craving returned. His
shoulders knotted and he cried out, rolling so that he could curl up into a ball. His spine tightened and
then the failed shifting began. His right arm burned as his skin writhed, trying futilely to change.

He bit his wrist, concentrating on that for a while, but soon the agony overtook him and he

shuddered, tears coming from his eyes. He didn’t notice his wet cheeks. Didn’t see his lovers finding
him on the ground. He couldn’t notice anything except the burning pain consuming his body and mind.
When cool fingers touched his face, he sobbed, barely aware.

****
“Oh my God, Jeremiel. What’s wrong with him?” Charmeine dropped to her knees, not caring

that her shoulders ached or that her wings dragged in the grass. She’d tired herself out, riding the
thermals with Jeremiel, but none of that mattered now. Haniel was on the ground, face screwed up
into a rictus of pain.

“Shit,” Jeremiel muttered. “It’s too early for this.” He smoothed back Haniel’s blonde hair.
“What’s too early?” She grabbed Haniel’s hand, hoping to soothe him with her presence, but

had to extract her fingers when he squeezed tight enough to snap her bones. “Why is he like this? And
don’t brush me off this time. I need to know.”

“He was burned by demon fire a couple years ago. It damaged something in him, something

deep inside that couldn’t be fixed. Our healer, the Omega Raphael, healed his skin, but he couldn’t
repair his wings. That’s why he doesn’t have any legacy marks on his right arm,” Jeremiel explained
softly. “That’s why we’ve been wandering around, hunting demons. It’s the only thing that gives him
peace.” He glanced at her, face softening. “The only thing that gave him peace, until we met you.”

“Oh God, that means he goes through this every month?” She was horrified. Jeremiel had

explained that she’d have to remember to shift at least once a month, or her body would do it for her,
and probably at a really inconvenient time. Instinct took over when the conscious mind denied what it

needed.

“Yeah, usually. But he already went through this just a couple weeks ago. It’s too soon.” He

tried to straighten out Haniel’s arms, but the angel resisted, groaning as if he was being beaten.

Charmeine bit her lip. “What can we do?”
Jeremiel shook his head. “Nothing. Just be there for him when it’s over.”
“What? Nothing at all?” Her instincts screamed at her to help. She’d given them her virginity.

Her trust. When she’d least expected it, Haniel and Jeremiel had arrived in her life and cracked open
the doors of her heart. She’d never imagined meeting them, or falling so hard for not one, but two
guys. She’d been treading water through her life, letting the waves take her where they wanted, but
now that she’d finally, maybe, fallen in love, it killed her to see one of her lovers hurting so bad.
“Jeremiel, I don’t know if I can do nothing.” She ran a hand down Haniel’s back.

“I know. Believe me, I know,” Jeremiel replied, running a hand through his hair. He looked just

as wrecked as she felt. When the ring of a cell phone interrupted them, she flinched.

“Shit. It’s my phone. It’s still in Haniel’s pocket.” He retrieved it carefully and looked at the

screen.

“Who is it?”
“Our Alpha. Gabriel. I have to take it,” he shot her an agonized glance. She nodded,

understanding. The angels had far larger problems than one injured male. Jeremiel tapped the device
and answered the call.

Charmeine kept up the soothing massage, hoping that it would help Haniel, if only a little.

Jeremiel turned away a little, but she could still see him frown. It must not be good news, she mused,
thinking about what he’d told her about the angels. Gabriel was their leader, the Alpha. Their healer,
Raphael, was their Omega and Gabriel’s mate. Gabriel’s sister, Ariel, was mated to Suriel the
Sorcerer, and she was both a sorceress and Gabriel’s second. The last angels he mentioned were
Zeke and Nathaniel, mated blades masters. They were the ones who’d created his and Haniel’s
weapons.

I wish I’d had a weapon, she thought, glancing at the remains of her house. A pang of grief

caught her off guard. All of her memories of her grandmother were in that house, as well as the only
photos she had of her mother and her father. That was all gone now.

Jeremiel shoved the phone into his pocket violently enough to distract her from her dark

thoughts. She stilled her hand for a moment. “What happened?” Haniel’s muscles knotted tighter
beneath her fingers, almost as if he already knew what Jeremiel was going to say. His face, however,
gave no indication of cognizance. He was still lost in the pain.

“Demons are massing on Castle Archangel,” he said shortly.
“What does that mean?”
“It means we need to get there as quickly as possible. They need anyone who can swing a blade

to help defend our home and our People.” He shook his head, blue eyes dark. “If the castle falls, so
does our ability to stand against the darkness. The stones of that place are in our blood. If it fell, its
loss would demoralize all the remaining angels and probably spur a mass-fading.”

Charmeine stared at him, aghast. “You mean they would kill themselves.”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“We can’t let that happen,” she said, slowly. But what would they do about Haniel? She and

Jeremiel could fly, but he couldn’t, not anymore.

“No, we can’t let that happen,” Haniel said, his voice tight with agony.
She whipped her head down. He was still not well, but the look in his eyes told her he’d heard

every word. “Shh. Don’t worry about it,” she said, trying to soothe him.

“You’ll have to leave me behind,” he ground out.
“What? No!” Jeremiel clenched his fists. “I would never do that to you. Never. And neither

would Charmeine.”

Charmeine agreed. “There has to be another way.” She couldn’t fathom how Haniel managed to

speak. Clearly, the pain was still intense, judging by his body’s involuntary twitches. She wished she
could take the agony away.

“We need to defend our people,” he said, gasping as his muscles cramped again. “They need

our shield. You have to go.” He panted for air. “Too… important.”

Jeremiel shook his head. “The shield won’t work without you.”
Haniel grunted, straining to speak, but Charmeine interrupted him, laying her fingers on his

mouth.

“We’ll carry you.” She looked up at Jeremiel, sliding her palm down to cup Haniel’s cheek.

Stubble tickled her palm. “We can carry him.”

“Crazy,” Haniel gasped, wheezing.
Charmeine was about to argue, but when she looked at his face, she realized he was laughing.

Laughing!

“She’s right. We’ll carry you.” Jeremiel rubbed his face. “As soon as this episode is over.”
“It’s easing,” Haniel breathed. His shoulders suddenly relaxed and Charmeine had to scramble

to keep touching him. She ended up crouched over him. His hazel eyes blinked up at her and he
managed to snag one of her curls in his fingers. “Beautiful.”

She smiled, a rush of relief flooding through her. “You’re going to be okay.”
“That was a lot shorter than the last one,” Jeremiel said softly. He sounded as relieved as she

felt.

“It was.” Haniel took a deep breath. “Ahhh, almost better. I don’t know why it was shorter. I

don’t think I care.”

“Maybe God answered my prayers,” Charmeine murmured.
Jeremiel and Haniel exchanged glances. “Stranger things have happened,” he said, holding

Haniel’s gaze.

****
“This is crazy,” Haniel said, laughing. Charmeine held his right arm, and Jeremiel had his left.

They floated about five feet above ground. The best part was that he could still feel the winds in his
soul. He hadn’t lost any of his instincts about flying, just the physical ability.

“I don’t understand why you can’t float. If our wings only serve to direct us, why can’t you at

least move off the ground?” Charmeine said, swaying a little in the breeze.

“I think something more was destroyed when I was burned,” Haniel said, feeling giddy. They

were just over the tree tops now. “My arm looks fine, but I felt the burns all the way to the bone. I
even felt it inside my gut and my spine. Between my shoulders.” He shook his head. “I can’t explain
it.”

“We should get moving,” Jeremiel said tensely.
Haniel glanced at him and nodded, tamping down his elation at being in the air. He’d tried

flying in airplanes and helicopters, even once in a glider, but they never felt right. This, however, felt
good. It felt like he’d come home. Except if they let go you’re toast, he reminded himself grimly.
That thought dashed the last of his joy.

“Most angels can move pretty fast when they need to,” Jeremiel said, still instructing

Charmeine. “Just watch out for unexpected currents. We’re in the midst of a high pressure system
right now, so things should be pretty calm overall.”

Haniel watched her nod, biting her lip in concentration. They’d taken an hour to eat and find her

something else to wear—a simple halter-top—but they’d had to hurry. She reassured her friends at
the diner that she was only going for a week, but Haniel could tell her boss knew something more was
happening. The look in Marvin’s eyes said he realized she might not come back. Haniel hadn’t the
heart to reassure him, though Jeremiel had made an attempt. Then, directly after returning to
Charmeine’s property, they’d taken off, dragging Haniel up into the heavens between them.

“You doing okay?” Jeremiel asked.
Haniel nodded. He knew Gabriel was desperate to get to the castle and didn’t really want to

know about his aching biceps. He’d sensed a quiet urgency when Jeremiel had told him what the
Alpha had said: demons massing on the western border of Castle Alpha, just at the edge of the lake.
More demons than they could fight off with the handful of warriors at the Castle.

“I thought there were a lot more angels in the world,” Charmeine said, turning her head so she’d

be heard over the wind. “What could we possibly do to help? There are only three of us and I don’t
know a thing about fighting.”

Haniel grimaced. “There used to be a lot more of the People. More clans, more loners. Our

numbers plummeted during our parents’ generation. We had a demon-bound Alpha for decades and
none of us knew it. I think that had a lot to do with what happened.”

“We think his influence infected our People. A lot of us died mysteriously, or disappeared.

Many faded into the mist.” Jeremiel’s voice shook. “We don’t talk about it much and especially not
with humans.”

Charmeine’s hands tightened on Haniel’s arms. “Because you don’t want the humans to freak

out, do you? That would surely plunge the entire world into darkness, if people thought the angels had
deserted them forever.”

Haniel didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. She was right.
****
Two hours later Haniel’s arms hurt like hell and he knew they weren’t flying fast enough. His

initial optimism had faded like a stone falling into a pond. You could see the ripples it left behind, but
once the water smoothed over, there was nothing to hold onto. He had to convince them to let him go.
Their people depended on it.

“It’s time to let go,” he said finally, struggling a little.
Jeremiel cursed and hauled him in. He obviously knew exactly what Haniel meant. They dipped

down, almost hitting trees before Charmeine was able to pull them back up. A small town dotted the
wooded landscape to their east, like a fake display in a model shop. It looked so peaceful, but Haniel
knew it was only a matter of time before the demons destroyed everything if Castle Archangel fell. He
couldn’t let that happen.

“What are you talking about?” Charmeine gasped at him. Her hair was knotted and her skin

pale. Her beautiful eyes looked so tired Haniel could see his own resignation peering out at him from
within their depths.

“You have to let me go. I’m dragging you down,” he told her.
“No fucking way,” Jeremiel muttered.
“Yeah, what he said,” Charmeine said, outraged. Her fingers tightened around his bicep.
“Let go of me.” Haniel tugged again.
“What are you doing? Stop it,” Charmeine begged. She hung on, digging her fingers in even

harder. It hurt.

“I’m holding you back. You have to get there. They need the shield,” Haniel said, gritting his

teeth. It wasn’t like he wanted to fall to his death. “I’m a liability.”

“Shut. Up.” Jeremiel wrenched him closer, anger in his movements. “I am not letting you fall,

you damned idiot.”

Haniel tried to pull away, but he only succeeded in wrecking their flight. Charmeine gasped,

wrapping her arms around his waist. “Stop!”

He went limp, not wanting to take them down with him. To his shock, that proved successful

where his more active attempts to get them to let go failed. His body was loose enough that he simply
slipped through their fingers. His stomach gave a sick flip, and then he was falling. He closed his
eyes, holding their faces in his mind’s eye. He wanted them to be the last thing he saw on this Earth.
When something grabbed his leg, spinning him in the air sickeningly, he thought he’d struck a cliff.
His eyes shot open instinctively. To his shock, it was Jeremiel who’d grabbed hold of his ankle.

“You fool!” Jeremiel shouted angrily. “I’m going to kick your ass from here to Castle

Archangel for this!”

Charmeine swooped down, incredibly graceful, and wrapped her legs around his waist,

boosting them back into the air.

“Let me go!” Haniel cried out. He’d already accepted what had to happen.
“I choose you, you idiot,” Jeremiel said.
Haniel froze. He couldn’t be…
“I choose you, Haniel.” Jeremiel looked to Charmeine. “I choose you also, Charmeine, shield

to my soul, balm to my heart. Where you go, I follow. Where I am, you will be. Where we are needed,
we will go, bulwark for our People, safeguard for the innocent, as God wills.”

Haniel couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The bonding ceremony was sacred. He couldn’t

believe Jeremiel was doing this.

“I choose you, Haniel, shield to my soul, balm to my heart.” Charmeine said, shockingly.
How does she know the words? Haniel wondered, and then he realized it was all instinct.
She glanced at Jeremiel. “And I choose you, Jeremiel. Where you go, I follow. Where I am, you

will be. Where we are needed, we will go, bulwark for our People, safeguard for the innocent, as
God wills.” Charmeine’s voice broke on the end and tears streamed down her face.

Jeremiel gave Haniel a shake, breaking him from his frozen astonishment. “Say it!”
Haniel sucked in a breath and gave in. He loved them, more than life itself. He was willing to

die for them. He wanted to live for them even more. “I choose you, Jeremiel and Charmiene. You are
the shield to my soul, the balm to my heart. Where you go, I follow. Where I am, you will be. Where
we are needed, we will go, bulwark for our People, safeguard for the innocent, as God wills.”

A sudden clap of thunder shook the air and he cried out as energy flashed through him, burning

long dead nerves. Oh my God, what’s happening? he wondered a split second before his right arm
burst into white flame so bright he couldn’t look at it. He turned away, screaming, but then everything
stopped. They stopped falling. The pain disappeared. The wind stilled, but it didn’t matter because
when he opened his eyes and reached out, his new wings stretched out behind him in a multicolored
wave of brilliance.

Haniel wasn’t ashamed to admit that he cried as he felt the wind in his wings for the first time

in over two years.

Chapter Ten

“Almost there,” Jeremiel said, pushing a little faster.
Charmeine didn’t reply. She didn’t have the energy to speak. She had to concentrate too hard to

keep up with him and Haniel, who was the freshest of the three of them. His wings were a mirror of
Jeremiel’s: brown and grey and blue and white with a hint of pink at the edges. She’d never seen
anything so beautiful, until she’d caught a glimpse of her own wings. They were the same as theirs.
They were just as beautiful and strange and amazing. And they were hers. The past twenty-four hours
had been a roller-coaster of events, both wonderful and tragic, enough so that she couldn’t wrap her
brain around it all, but she supposed it didn’t matter. They had more important things to deal with than
her internal confusion.

“It’s just over that ridge.” Haniel pointed.
Charmeine squinted into the setting sun. The ridge looked like a dark, soft blanket against the

purple-gold sky, but then she saw something more that chilled her to the bone: fire. Tiny fires dotted
the trees below like diamonds thrown into dirt.

“Why are the trees burning?” she whispered, aghast.
Jeremiel stared down, face intent. “Demonfire.”
“That’s bad, right?” she said, disturbed. “Won’t it spread?” The thought of a huge fire

decimating the natural forest below made her want to cry.

“Very bad,” Haniel muttered, speeding up.
Charmeine pushed herself harder, just barely managing to match his sudden burst of energy. Her

lungs burned, her wings ached, and her eyes watered as the wind shoved against them. The acrid taint
of demon soot coated her hair and she shook it out, trying not to think about the ash’s composition.

“There,” Jeremiel said, banking right. He folded his wings and dove down toward a glittering

lake. A gorgeous castle rose up behind it, lit like something out of a fairytale.

When Charmeine looked down, she gasped in horror. Demons moved over the land like a horde

of insects invading a new territory. Their scales were black and red and there were so many, the
ground resembled a carpet of oil slicking downhill. She shuddered and followed her mates, struggling
to call the energy of the shield. She was so tired, she worried she wouldn’t be able to fight at all.

“Oh no, Gabriel is surrounded. Two demon lords, God help us,” Haniel said. “Look, there.”

Jeremiel immediately altered his course, flying by the stones of the castle so fast Charmeine had to
pull in her wings or risk crashing. There were angels fighting, but not enough to hold back that tide of
malevolence. She landed on the huge stone steps roughly, hands out to catch her fall. Jeremiel landed
lightly and rushed forward, his blade out and slashing. Haniel followed him. She had no weapon, so
she concentrated on catching her breath. When it was time, she would initiate the shield.

“You’re the one,” a voice said from behind her.
She whirled around, nearly falling when she saw an angel with huge, slate grey wings looming

over her. He held out his arms. Tiny white scars flecked his skin, cutting patterns along his legacy
marks. On his forearms, a thin silver blade shimmered in the firelight.

“This is for you,” he said.
She pulled her wits together. “You don’t know me.”
He laughed. “You’re the mate of Haniel and Jeremiel. That’s all I need to know.” He nodded

down at the weapon. “And I made this for you.”

“You must Zeke,” she said slowly, working it out as she took him in.
He smiled. “I am. Take the weapon.”
She grabbed it carefully, amazed at how light and balanced it felt. The hilt was wrapped with

black wire and she clenched her fingers around it. It was perfect. “How—?”

He shrugged, then frowned as he looked down into the battle. “It’s what I do.” He turned to her.

“I must go and help stem the tide of demon-kind. You will know what to do when the time comes.”

Before she could respond, he was gone. She lifted the point, holding it steady in front of her.

The energy of the shield shimmered in her gut, and the sword began glow and crackle. Abruptly, she
realized that she could use it as a focus to ground the shimmer-shield. When she looked out over the
courtyard, she knew it was time. Jeremiel had managed to extract the Alpha and they were retreating
to where she stood. Haniel watched their back. There was no sign of the demon lords anymore. They
must have killed them, she realized. Good! Of course, that doesn’t help much when all their
minions are still out there and wild with revenge, now. She clenched her teeth and waited. She
needed the shield to be perfect. A new angel swooped down, his wings snowy white with gold tips.
Instinctively, she knew this was their healer, the Omega Raphael.

“Charmeine! Now! It’s time!” Jeremiel yelled before he was even at the steps.
She concentrated, calling the energy up from the ground and through her body. It sped out from

her like a wall, touching the angels still fighting. Their wings lit up where it hit them, almost painting
them with light. One couple’s wings were blue and they grinned fiercely at each other as the shield
swept past them. They clasped hands and more energy surged into the shield.

They must be Ariel and Suriel, the sorcerers, Charmeine thought, grateful that they knew how

to add their strength to the shield. Zeke and a dark-haired man with caramel-colored skin fought south
of them. That must be Nathaniel with the weapons master. She was glad she wouldn’t be the only
person here with human blood in her background. She didn’t look like the other angels and she’d
worried that they wouldn’t accept her.

“Good, Charmeine. Just keep the anchor stable,” Haniel said, stumbling next to her. His blade

dripped black ichor that dissipated into ash before it hit the ground.

“There are too many of them,” she cried, scared to death. “I don’t know how long I can do

this.” The demons that hit the shield vaporized, but there were so many more she couldn’t imagine the
shield holding against them all.

“We just need to hang on until Suriel taps into Castle Archangel’s dormant power crystal,”

Jeremiel said, dragging his Alpha up the steps. The angel fell heavily, catching himself on the stone.

“I didn’t know we had a power crystal until last night,” the Alpha said, hand clasped over a

nasty burn on his right thigh. “It should work, though. We just needed some sort of energy shield to
activate it.” He grinned up at Charmeine. “I am exceedingly grateful you came.”

“Hold still, so I can fix this,” the angel with the white wings said, dropping to his knees.
The Alpha brushed him off. “Not now, Raphael.”
Charmeine bit her lip, using the pain as a focus to keep the shield stable, as she grew more and

more exhausted. Jeremiel and Haniel had put their hands on her shoulders, and that helped, but she
was the focal point. She had to control the energy and keep the shield working. More angels fought the
demons, retreating to safety, but there weren’t very many. That worried her.

“Yes, now, Gabriel,” Raphael snapped. “Your femoral artery is damaged. Hold still.”
Gabriel fell silent, face going tight with pain as Raphael put his hands over his wound. A white

light shimmered under his hands, then he sat back, looking exhausted. “That was close.” His eyes
drifted up to Charmeine, then flicked to the men at her back. “Haniel! Your wings, oh my God, they’re

perfect,” he breathed. His eyes filled with tears.

Charmeine smiled, even through the strain of holding the shield.
“Yeah,” Haniel said, nonchalance personified. “Cool, huh?”
What a doofus. Everyone can hear the emotion in his voice, she thought, amused.
“Yes, they are wonderful,” Raphael replied, still staring. His eyes shifted to her. “Triple

mating?”

She nodded, about to reply, but a crackle of energy surged through the shield, making the

shimmer spark. “God, what is that?”

“That’s Suriel and Ariel, doing their thing,” Gabriel said.
She gasped as heat bled through her blade into her skin. Far across the courtyard, demons began

to scream. The shield wavered, then shattered into a billion points of light that shot out over the
ground. Each tiny spark found a demon and obliterated it. Ash drifted across the landscape.
Charmeine could still feel the shield’s energy, but it was somehow augmented. Active, even without
her holding it.

“Do I let go?” she wondered.
“I think so,” Jeremiel said, letting his hand fall. Haniel squeezed her shoulder gently, then he,

too, stepped back.

“I think our gift helped activate the castle’s natural defenses,” he said.
“I’d read about a shield like that in the archives,” Raphael said, sounding awestruck. “But I

could never figure out if it was real or myth. The records don’t differentiate when you go back that
far.”

“We found the records on it about a year ago, but when we investigated, we discovered the

energy crystal that powered the shield was dormant,” Ariel said, walking tiredly up the steps. Her
wings drooped, but the midnight blue of her feathers was still striking.

“We couldn’t activate it without your native shield capacity,” Suriel added as he came up

behind Ariel. He rubbed his face, wiping ash away. “We were lucky.”

“Blessed,” Raphael murmured.
The energy surged again, startling Charmeine, then subsided. All the fires went out. The only

light was that of the full moon gleaming softly down over them in the summer’s warm night.

“It isn’t gone forever, is it?” she asked, worried.
Ariel smiled. “No. The castle shield will run all the time now. Your personal shield is under

your control.”

“Oh, that’s good. Really good,” Charmeine said, letting her blade drift down. She looked

across the courtyard. “The demons are all gone?”

“Even those damned lords,” Gabriel said. “We killed them first, but their dogs kept coming. I

hate boar demons.”

“Don’t we all,” Jeremiel muttered, running a finger down the now healed scratch on his arm.
“I’ve never seen so many massed in one place before,” Nathaniel said, joining the group.
“We need to find the portal,” Zeke said.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Gabriel told his weapons master. “No more wandering for you.”
“How are we going to find it then? Until we do, this is going to keep happening.” Zeke didn’t

sound happy.

Charmeine shivered. She didn’t like the sound of that, either.
“God will show us the way,” Raphael said. “He always does.” He turned his smile on

Charmeine and her angels. “He brought Haniel and Jeremiel back to us, didn’t he? And he gave us our

newest angel, the lovely Charmeine.” He held out his hand.

She blinked and looked at Haniel. Was this guy for real? Haniel just shrugged, so she gave

Raphael her hand.

He kissed her fingers lightly. “Welcome to Castle Archangel, Charmeine Haneul Bryzinski.

Thank you for bringing our lost angels home.”

Chapter Eleven

Charmeine stared down at the parchment, completely overwhelmed. “That’s my name. My full

name. That’s how you knew it.”

“It is,” Raphael moved the sheet of paper closer. “We record the births of all the angels in this

file.” He leaned over and tapped his finger on her name. “You can see that Valoel, your grandfather,
faithfully recorded the date and time of your birth. This is his signature.” He pointed to a scribble at
the end of the paper.

“What happened to him? Why didn’t he ever tell us he was alive?” Charmeine asked, finger just

touching the ink.

Raphael shook his head. “He probably loved your grandmother, but that was when some

humans were hunting down our kind. I can only speculate, but he probably avoided her and his son,
your father, to protect you. He wouldn’t have wanted to put you in harm’s way.”

Haniel slid an arm around her waist. “I’m sorry.”
She shrugged and leaned back, letting go of the tiny pang of what-might-have-been that had

lodged in her heart. “It’s okay.”

Jeremiel raised an eyebrow at her.
“No, really,” she said, smiling at him. “You can’t miss what you never had. I don’t even miss

my parents that much. They died when I was so young, I only remember bits and pieces of what they
were like.”

“You’re the second human-angel hybrid that has become fully human. We never thought it was

possible, not until Zeke and Nathaniel bonded.” Raphael slid the paper back into the metal file and
pushed the drawer closed. It was part of a large file cabinet set into the wall of the castle’s library.
He gave the wall a push with his foot and the entire thing moved back into a recessed cavity. Once it
was as far back as it could go, another wall of bookshelves slid over the front, like something out of a
spy movie.

“No one seems to care that I’m Asian,” she said, still surprised about that. “Well, half-Asian,

that is.”

Raphael laughed. “It doesn’t matter. You’re an angel. Whatever other blood you bring to our

people will only enrich our culture and genes.”

She shook her head, bemused, and walked over to the huge window. Sunlight shined down on

the old carpet beneath her feet, highlighting the gorgeous colors of the silk. The wood paneling
glowed in the light. She hated to admit it, but she liked it here. It felt like home in a way her old house
never had. She smiled faintly. Grandma would’ve loved it here, she thought, running a finger along
the windowsill. The sun-warmed wood gave her a sense of peace, even after the battle they’d fought a
little over a week ago.

Looking outside, she could scarcely believe that there’d been a demon army on the grounds. All

the fires were gone and the demons had turned to ash and disappeared. The landscape looked pristine.
Beautiful.

“If there’s anything else you want to research, just let me know,” Raphael said with a smile. He

nodded to Jeremiel and Haniel and left the room.

“Let’s go up to our suite,” Jeremiel said, tugging on her halter tie.
She batted his hand away. “Careful. You’re going to untie me and then we’ll have a problem.”

Haniel laughed. “That’s definitely not a problem, if you ask me.”
Charmeine rolled her eyes at her lover’s smirk. He waggled his eyebrows at her until she

giggled. He’s so much more playful now that he has his wings back, she thought fondly and
murmured a quick prayer of thanks under her breath.

“Come on. I have something I want to show you,” Raphael urged, smoothing a hand down the

middle of her back.

****
A few minutes later, he handed her an envelope. “Remember when I went back to your

hometown a few days ago? To pick up your stuff from the trail shelter?” Jeremiel asked.

She nodded, staring down at the paper in her hands. “I remember.” It had been a week after the

demon attack. She hadn’t wanted to go back. Hadn’t wanted to see the ruins of the house where she’d
lived so many happy years with her grandmother. So, he’d offered to fly down and pick up the few
things she had in the shelter for her so she wouldn’t have to do it. She planned on going back
sometime, when it didn’t hurt so much, maybe in a month or so. She definitely wanted to visit with her
friends at the diner. And she’d always maintain the trail shelter as best she could.

“I stopped in town for lunch. Melvin had this for you.” He gestured to the envelope. “Go on.

Open it.”

She bit her lip, then slid her finger under the seal. When she peeled back the paper, her

grandmother’s face stared out at her from an old photograph. “How is this possible?” she asked him
through her tears.

“There’s more,” Haniel said.
She shook the envelope and another photo fell out. This one was a copy of the only picture

she’d ever had of her parents. She thought it had been lost forever. “Melvin gave these to you?”

Jeremiel nodded. “He said your grandmother gave him copies, in case anything happened.”
“I have a feeling your grandmother knew a lot more about the world than anyone realized,”

Haniel offered.

Charmeine shook her head as she ran her finger over her mother’s face. This was her mom and

dad’s wedding picture. Her mother barely came up to her father’s shoulder. “I just can’t believe she
saved these for me. My grandmother was amazing, but she wasn’t the kind of person who daydreamed
or worried about stuff that could happen in the future.”

“She had an affair with an angel,” Jeremiel said, gently. “I think she knew there was more to the

world, both good and bad, than was obvious in the little town where you grew up. And she prepared
for the day the bad would come knocking on your door.”

“I’m glad she did,” Charmeine said. She rubbed her cheek with her shoulder. She would not

cry, dammit!

“Hey, it’s okay,” Haniel said. He tugged the photos out of her hand and set them on the

nightstand.

She turned to him and hugged him tightly. “I’m glad she saved the pictures.”
“I know,” he murmured, running a hand down her hair.
She lifted her face, wanting more. He kissed her, and as always, heat flared between them. She

trembled, feeling shy and desperate, all at once. He chuckled, then kissed her more deeply, licking
inside her mouth with a passion he only showed her and Jeremiel. She loved him for it, loved that he
only truly let down his barriers with them. “I love you,” she said when he let her up for air.

“And I love you, my darling mate.” He kissed her lightly. “And I love you, Jeremiel.” He

smiled at their third. “But you knew that.”

Jeremiel kissed him softly. “I did know that, because you are in my heart. I love you, too.”
Haniel’s eyes glittered.
“No crying!” Charmeine said, choking back her own tears. She was too happy to cry.
Jeremiel chuckled and pulled Charmeine close, tucking her in between him and Haniel. She let

their warmth surround her, more content than she’d ever been in her life. She had to say the words to
him, too. Saying them out loud was important. “I love you, Jeremiel.”

He kissed her forehead. “I love you, too, Charmeine.” He laughed. “We sound silly.”
“I don’t care. Kiss me,” she murmured, cupping his cheeks. “Kiss me like you never want to let

me go.”

He obliged, holding her so tightly she squeaked. Haniel slotted up behind her, his full cock

jutting against her ass. “You smell like home,” he murmured, nibbling down her neck.

She couldn’t reply. Jeremiel devoured her and she responded in turn, clutching at his shoulders.

When he paused to breathe, she wrapped her legs around his waist. “I can’t wait any longer.” She
struggled with her halter, trying to get it off.

Haniel nudged her hands away and untied the fabric as Jeremiel walked her to the bed. His

erection pressed against the seam of her jeans, rubbing at her clit. She moaned, needing more
stimulation. He dropped her on the bed and she scrabbled at the button of her pants, but Jeremiel
growled and pushed her hands away. He had her nude in under five seconds, so she started tugging at
his pants. He grunted when her knuckles jostled his dick, but she didn’t care. She had to have him.

“Easy,” Haniel said, reaching down and helping.
She blinked at him over Jeremiel’s shoulder. “You’re already naked.”
He grinned. “I believe in efficiency.” He was also holding a bottle of lube, just out of

Jeremiel’s view.

She snickered, knowing exactly what he was going to do with that. He gave her a knowing

smile, his eyes shifting to Jeremiel’s ass. She opened her mouth to say something, but then Jeremiel
slid into her all at once and she lost her train of thought completely. She writhed, legs going over his
hips. He felt exquisite.

“Ah, God,” he said, panting against her shoulder. “Do not move, Charmeine, or I’m going to go

off like a teenager with his first porn magazine.”

“What?” she laughed, gasping when the movement rubbed her clit against his dick.
“I can fix that problem,” Haniel said, low and sexy.
“Not using that voice, you can’t,” Jeremiel retorted.
Charmeine felt the exact moment Haniel began to touch Jeremiel. His body stiffened and his

cock swelled even larger inside her.

“Oh, Jesus,” he ground out, shaking. “Haniel, fuck. That’s not helping.”
“You want me to fuck you?” Haniel asked, still with that gravelly, sexy tone.
Charmeine shivered. His voice did something to her. And to Jeremiel, too, judging from his

reaction.

Jeremiel nodded. “Yeah. God, yeah. Fuck me.” He shuddered and Charmeine ran a soothing

hand down his flank.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” she asked him.
“Yeah,” he groaned, biting her shoulder. “Come on, Haniel. Stop teasing me.”
“I like teasing you. You’re so hot and tight around my fingers,” Haniel said, grinning over

Jeremiel’s shoulder at Charmeine. “Someday, I’ll get Charmeine to do this to you. Buy her a black
leather strap-on.”

Jeremiel gasped, screwing his eyes shut.
“And maybe I’ll get her to do me, too,” Haniel continued.
She swallowed, hard, her clit suddenly throbbing. All it would take was one little touch and

she’d climax. She bit her lip, trying to stave it off. She wanted to cum with her lovers.

“Yeah, okay,” Haniel said tightly.
Charmeine could see him over Jeremiel’s shoulder. His face was tense and flushed. She knew

he was pushing inside Jeremiel slowly, trying to be careful.

“Haniel, Jesus. I’m not made of glass,” Jeremiel said, then his expression abruptly changed.

“Ohhhhhh, whoa.”

Charmeine fought off a laugh. Now was not the time.
“You asked for it,” Haniel muttered, breathing hard.
“Fuck,” Jeremiel gritted out.
“You’re so damned tight.” Haniel shoved forward. The motion pushed Jeremiel’s cock deeper

into Charmeine and she grabbed his arms, spine arching.

“Oh God,” she begged, squirming. Just a little more and Jeremiel’s pubic bone would be

grinding against her just where she needed it.

“Your cunt is so wet,” Jeremiel said, hands curled into the sheets. “So hot and tight.”
She nodded, not really caring what he said anymore. She needed more. “Move,” she

commanded, digging her fingers in.

He licked her neck, then exhaled as Haniel began to move in earnest. He thrust over and over,

effectively fucking both of them at the same time. Charmeine clenched her teeth and held on for dear
life. Every time Haniel’s hips snapped forward, Jeremiel rubbed against her nub. It was almost too
much, and then, suddenly, it was perfect. She cried out, going over the edge. Waves of pleasure shot
through her and Jeremiel groaned, his dick pulsing into her, hot and wet. Haniel’s hips stuttered, and
then his orgasm crashed over him, too. He dropped his head down, hands going to Charmeine’s as he
rode the waves. Their shield crackled through them, heightening the pleasure. She held onto him and
Jeremiel both, reveling in their pleasure until they collapsed to the side, out of breath and exhausted.

****
“What was that?” Jeremiel asked a long time later, a hint of amusement in his voice. He pulled

the sheet up a little higher and tucked it around Charmeine’s elbow. Haniel had managed to get a
washcloth and clean off most of the damage, thankfully. Charmeine and Jeremiel had been far too out
of it to move.

Haniel smiled against Charmeine’s cheek. “That was awesome.”
“I agree,” she said, stroking a hand down his arm. “It felt like flying.”
He was silent for a heartbeat, then he nodded. “Yeah. It did, but only because you and Jeremiel

were with me.”

She drew invisible patterns onto the new legacy marks on his right arm. “We can all go flying

together for real, later.” She wanted him to fly as much as possible. He deserved to feel the air
beneath his wings after being so long denied that freedom.

“Yeah, what she said,” Jeremiel added sleepily. “Later. Much later.”
Haniel snuggled in closer. “Sounds good to me,” he murmured.
Charmeine smiled and let sleep take her.
She dreamed of blue skies.

The End

www.erinmleaf.com

Other Books by Erin M. Leaf:

www.evernightpublishing.com/erin-m-leaf

If you enjoyed this book, you may also like:

P.A. Partner by Raven McAllan

The Dude Ranch by Cat Blaine

Bondmate by J.J. Lore

Evernight Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

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