by Meg Collett
“Good to see you, too,” Clark said, setting the bottles on the sparse counter space in the miniscule kitchen. He opened a bottle and took a long swig. Michaela instantly felt guilty. Clark was coping the best he could.
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Raphael asked, frowning and clearly disapproving.
Clark turned around with a scowl on his face. He took in the Archangels standing before him. “Bite me,” he growled. He took another drink.
Michaela rubbed her dry eyes. “Where’ve you been?”
“Driving around.” Clark hopped up on the counter, sloshing the liquid in the bottle he gripped. “I found something interesting in Cincinnati.”
Everyone leaned forward, suddenly captivated by Clark’s words.
“What?” Michaela asked.
Clark took another drink. He looked miserable with bloodshot eyes and pale, drawn skin. He hadn’t cleaned up in days. Michaela wrinkled her nose when she leaned too close.
Clark noticed. “Be nice. I’ve been too busy to bathe.”
“What did you find?” Raphael said.
“I was driving around when I noticed a warehouse—a warehouse running on huge amounts of generator fuel.” Clark raised his brows.
“And?”
“That doesn’t pique your interest? The whole world is without power, yet this one place is lit up like the North Pole on Christmas Eve?”
“What else did you find, Clark?” Michaela tried to sound patient. She’d missed him, and she was glad to have him back, but he was infuriatingly slow to the point.
“I investigated. And I found a bunch of people inside. It was a club and everyone had marks on their hands. So I went a little closer.”
“Clark,” Michaela groaned. “I should’ve gone with you.” Clark waved at her like it was unimportant, but she still felt awful.
“This guy found me sneaking around outside.” Michaela groaned again at Clark’s words. “But he was pretty high, so we talked for a bit about what the club was.”
Clark took another drink. He’d put a pretty good dent in the bottle already, and he wasn’t slowing down. A bit of the amber liquid spilled from the corner of his mouth.
“Well, what did he say?” Raphael pressed.
“He said….” Clark stared at the bottle in his hands for a moment before he looked back up at the angels around him. “He said it was a pleasure club for the Watchers.”
No one spoke. They looked at Clark like he’d hallucinated the entire thing, but Michaela believed him. She closed her eyes and put her head in her hands.
“I’m serious!” Clark shouted at the incredulous-looking Archangels. “I even saw it. A Watcher was totally doing some chick. It sounded, like, so nasty.”
Michaela swore into her hands. The Archangels tensed around her, suddenly realizing Clark was telling the truth. He toasted the Archangels and took another gulping swig.
“What did you call it?” Simiel asked, finally looking fully awake.
“A pleasure club,” Clark said, emphasizing each word.
“Are you sure?” Raphael asked.
“This is bad,” Simiel said quietly, looking at Ophaniel, who agreed.
Everyone started speaking at once, raising the volume in the tiny cabin to an almost-unbearable level. Michaela was the only one stunned to silence. The Archangels converged on Clark, peppering him with questions, which he answered in between sips of whiskey.
From the other room, Uriel slipped out and closed the door behind her. She’d been listening from the other side. Without a word, she walked closer to the group. Michaela met her eyes, and for once, Uriel didn’t look away or launch into a yelling fit.
“Everyone calm down,” Michaela said without raising her voice. Immediately, the other angels quieted and looked at her. She stepped forward and took the whiskey from Clark.
“Hey! Give that back!” Clark’s words slurred.
“I will,” Michaela said. And she would give it back. She didn't begrudge Clark his way of coping with loss. “But first, you need to give us more details. This could be huge. You’re sure you saw a Watcher? Were others there?”
“I saw its shadow, but it was definitely a Watcher. The guy told me they have these smaller meetings for certain members to come and, um, service the Watchers who come down.”
“Who were the members?” Raphael asked.
“Everyone who had the marks.” Clark shrugged. “The guard checked this tattoo members had on their hands. It would have been impossible to replicate. But….” Clark’s eyes drooped like he was falling asleep. His head lolled forward.
Raphael reached forward and poked Clark’s shoulder like he was an unknown species hiding under a rock. Clark let out a ripping snore and jerked his head up. “Dude.”
“You were talking about the smaller meetings,” Michaela prompted.
“Oh, yeah. Well, apparently there’s this huge party this weekend where the Watchers scout for fresh meat. We’re invited. Yay.” Clark waved his hands in the air half-heartedly.
“You don’t have to have the tattoos to go?” Simiel asked.
Clark shrugged. “Nope. Anyone can go to these bigger parties. It’s how they pick new members.”
“How many Watchers come to these recruiting parties?”
Clark met Michaela’s eyes. “Maybe all of them.”
“We have to go,” Raphael said, his voice urgent. “We can take them all out at once.”
“But that’s just tomorrow night,” Ophaniel said. “How can we be ready by then?”
“I don’t know, but a party sounds like fun,” Simiel chimed in.
Clark snorted. “Oh, yeah. Y’all won’t stick out like sore thumbs at all!” He snickered drunkenly. “Sore thumbs…what a weird phrase. Like, why does a sore thumb stick out more than a normal thumb?”
“What kind of party is it?” Michaela asked, trying to focus Clark.
“A rave.”
Clark’s response was met with silence. The angels looked at each other in confusion. “What does that mean?” Ophaniel wondered out loud.
“It means you shake your scantily clad ass to freaky dance music and cover your body with glow paint. It’s gonna be epic!” Clark danced on the counter where he sat until he slipped off and landed in a pile on the floor. Michaela sighed.
“He’s drunk.”
“You think?” Simiel said with a snort.
Michaela helped Clark up from the floor. He took the whiskey from her hand and chugged it. She cringed.
“How do you know it’s a rave, Clark?” Michaela asked as she propped him back against the cabinets.
He shrugged. “Looked like that kind of place. Same kind of music.” His eyes were drooping again, his words unintelligible.
“We need to scope out that warehouse,” Raphael said.
“If he was driving north into the city, it shouldn’t be too hard to find if they’ve recently run a generator. We could smell that easily,” Simiel added.
“We need to prepare for the party, too.” Ophaniel held up her hands when everyone looked skeptically at her.
“No, she’s right,” Michaela said. “We need to fit in when we go in there and make sure we’re disguised. We’ll need to blend in until we can figure out how to get to the Watchers and take them out without hurting the humans.”
Everyone but Uriel nodded, and Clark cheered.
“Simiel and I will go check things out in Cincinnati,” Raphael said.
“I can find us decent clothes.” Everyone turned to look at Uriel when she spoke. No one really knew what to say. She shrugged. “I know what a rave is.”
“How do you know that?” Simiel asked.
“Michaela can watch Zarachiel while I’m gone, right?” Uriel ignored him and directed her question to Michaela.
She nodded, unsure if Uriel was trying to trick her.
“It’s settled,” Uriel said. “I’ll leave tonight, and I'll be back tomorrow.”
“Well, okay….” Michaela ran her han
d over her face, which muffled her words.
At everyone’s hesitation, Uriel huffed and turned around, walking back to the bedroom without a backward glance.
“She’s so weird,” Clark slurred loud enough for Uriel to hear through the wall. Michaela shushed him.
Raphael looked up from where he and Simiel had been talking. “We’re leaving now in case the club is harder to find than we think.”
“When should we expect you back?” Ophaniel asked before she hugged Simiel.
“Tomorrow afternoon at the latest. If we’re not back by then….”
Michaela didn’t want to imagine them not coming back. The thought of losing another friend was unthinkable. “You’ll be back sooner than that,” she said, her voice adamant.
Raphael nodded, his thoughts already far away. It didn’t take them long to gather what little supplies they would take with them. They strapped on their heavy swords and filled narrow backpacks with water bottles and power bars Ophaniel doled out to them. “Be safe,” she said when they were ready to leave.
“Hurry back,” Michaela added before the door closed behind them. She looked at Ophaniel, their eyes silently hoping this wouldn’t be the last time they saw Simiel and Raphael.
Clark burped. “That tasted like beef jerky.”
Michaela’s nose wrinkled. “Come on. Let’s get you outside before you throw up everywhere.”
Ophaniel followed Michaela and Clark onto the porch with some food and a blanket, which she spread out on the wooden planks before Michaela helped Clark sit down. When he was sufficiently propped up against the wall, Michaela uncapped a water bottle and took a deep swig. Ophaniel munched quietly on a handful of walnuts. Her doll-like face was twisted with worry.
“Michaela….” Ophaniel started.
“Yeah?” Michaela took another sip of water, her attention far away.
“Are you worried about what Uriel said yesterday?”
The question confused Michaela. She glanced at Ophaniel. “A lot of things Uriel says worry me. Which one are you talking about?”
“When she asked if you were prepared to kill holy angels,” Ophaniel answered. Her bright eyes were wide and unblinking at Michaela. The Archangel barely looked human, Michaela noticed. Her features were almost too porcelain and pretty.
She looked back out to the clearing around the cabin. Ophaniel had always been good at reading people, and she was right again: Michaela was extremely concerned about how they would fight against the holy angels. What worried her most was that the others weren’t bothered by using bone swords against the holy angels. It was already assumed, and Michaela knew that wasn’t good.
She wouldn’t hesitate to kill a Watcher with a bone sword, but it felt like murder to use them on the holy angels.
“I’m worried,” Michaela said simply.
“I think,” Ophaniel said, “we should remember who our real enemy is. I’ll fight with whatever you say we should use, but I don’t think it would feel right to use those swords.”
Michaela didn’t answer. After a moment, Ophaniel spoke again, her voice like delicate wind chimes. “Do you think this party thing will really work?”
“I hope so,” Michaela said. “But we’ll be going in there basically blind. I don’t like that.”
“Me neither.” Ophaniel’s voice was quiet. “How are we going to kill that many Watchers without hurting the humans?”
“We’ll figure something out. I’m hoping Clark can help us.” Michaela didn’t say what she was really thinking. Clark was their only hope for taking out the Watchers without anyone dying.
They both looked at Clark, who’d fallen asleep again. As they watched, he shifted and flopped over on his side, snoring loudly. Michaela sighed. Even after knowing the extent of Clark’s abilities, he was still no closer to completely understanding how to control them.
They both heard the approach of wings. Michaela’s spine tingled with fear before she caught the smell. The approaching angel made sure to fly in from a direction where his scent would be carried to them.
Gabriel landed lightly in the grass in front of the porch. A smile already pulled at the corners of Michaela’s mouth. She’d missed him.
“Hey,” he said, looking only at her.
“Hey,” she repeated quietly. Their eyes locked, and Michaela’s stomach filled with a rising heat.
Ophaniel clapped her hands. “Well, that’s it. Picnic over! I need a nap anyway. I’ll take Clark back inside and hide the whiskey before he wakes up.” She nodded at Michaela. “You and Gabriel go take a walk.”
Standing, Michaela asked, “Do you need any help?”
Ophaniel flapped her hand at her before she could even finish her sentence. “Nope! Go on. I’ve got it covered.”
Gabriel leaned against the stair railing, his dark eyes searing every inch of Michaela’s body as she descended the steps. As soon as her feet landed on the ground, he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her against his side. Michaela felt a little breathless as he propelled them into the woods.
“I need you,” he whispered into her ear, sending chills down her spine.
9
Gabriel led Michaela into the woods until the cabin was hidden from view. Hardly any morning light made its way through the tangled web of branches above their heads. The air was quiet and frosty. Gabriel knew every breath Michaela took beside him by the puffs of air in front of her mouth.
She was nervous. Her chest rose and fell with deep, deliberate breaths. He made her anxious, which, he realized, he enjoyed.
“Where are we going?” she asked. She tried to sound annoyed, but Gabriel heard the excited tremors in her voice.
“Right here.”
When they stopped, she looked up at him, her blue eyes bright in the darkness. Stepping closer, he pushed her long black hair over her shoulder, exposing her pale neck. His eyes fixated on the skin, where a soft citrusy smell lingered. He lowered his mouth and tasted her scent, his tongue tracing the curve of her collarbone. Her breath caught before she moaned.
Gripping her hips, he eased her back one step, then another and another, until she was backed up against a wide, thick tree trunk.
“Gabe.” Her breathing changed into shallow pants.
He didn’t respond. Instead, he traced the exposed skin above the waistband of her jeans. Feeling her shiver drove him mad. Standing so close to her, smelling her, allowing himself to finally touch her—it made his vision nearly cross. It had been so long since he’d truly touched her. He had a lot of time to make up for.
He was already stiffening, but when she squeezed her legs together to relieve the building ache he caused, his erection throbbed. He let go of her hips and jerked his arms out of his jacket before he ripped off his shirt. With his wings free, he fanned them out and encircled Michaela and the tree trunk, trapping in their heat and keeping her warm.
“Take off your clothes,” he said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp.
Obeying, Michaela sidled out of her jacket. She dropped it at their feet before her fingers hurried down the buttons of her plaid shirt. Her eyes met his when she’d finished. Slowly, watching him watch her, she rocked the material over her shoulders, her back arching away from the tree to free the material. Her hips ground into his until he let out a hiss.
The luminance of his feathers cast a glowing light on Michaela’s alabaster skin. She popped the button to her jeans and lowered the zipper before she peeled the worn, black denim off her hips, pushing the material down her thighs.
Gabriel’s hands clenched at his sides, his body vibrating on high. She still hadn’t found any panties to wear.
“What now?” Michaela asked, stepping out of her boots and jeans. She stood naked before him, cocooned in his wings.
Gabriel reached forward, tracing the length of her thigh up toward her hip. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, making a little noise to tease him and urge him on. He slipped his hand sideways, finding the juncture of her legs and cupping her. As h
er eyes flared open, he pushed his fingers inside of her. She was hot and wet as she clenched around his fingers in surprise.
“Gabe!” Michaela gasped, fueling his vicious desire.
Gabriel stopped moving his fingers. Smiling wickedly, he asked, “Want me to stop?”
Michaela looked horrified for a moment, like she was afraid he really would. She shook her head and rocked herself into his hand, urging him on. He leaned into her, pressing her back into the tree and obliged.
He knew the way to make her body jerk. He circled the tip of his finger against her, causing deep lines to form between her furrowed brows. Her mouth gaped open as she rode the sensations. She dug her nails into the thick muscles of his shoulders as he dove his fingers in and out of her, in and out.
When he’d driven them both crazy, he released her. Quickly, he took off his jeans and briefs. He pictured lifting Michaela onto his hips and how her legs would wrap around him, but when he looked up at her after hopping out of his boots, she was grinning devilishly. Stunned, he watched as she turned around to face the tree. She flicked her hair over her shoulder and looked back at him, her eyes glinting as she spread her legs. She arched her back until the perfect curve of her backside pressed into him.
She pushed him over the edge, obliterating his thoughts. He gripped her hips and slipped inside her. Holding tight, he found the perfect angle to drive them both wild. It was fast and hot enough that Gabriel almost felt guilty afterwards as Michaela slumped against the tree, limp with pleasure. He held her up and tucked his face into the crook of her neck, her scent and sweat consuming him as he wondered if love like this was a sin.
They stayed against the tree until the sweat cooled on their skin and chilled them. He stepped back, giving her room to dress in the warmth of his wings. His eyes lingered on every stretch of skin before she covered it up. She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.
When she was finished, she wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a sweet kiss on his lips. “I love you,” she said, her breath tickling his skin and obliterating his previous guilt.
