Wanted Angel: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (Feathers and Fate Book 3)

by Sadie Moss

  “Angel, I’m calling in my favor.” Beckett’s voice is solemn, and he grips Ryland’s hand as Ry bows his head.

  “I’m calling in my favor,” Pride murmurs. “We need you, Trinity. Stay with us.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  TRINITY

  The world is… it’s so fuzzy and black… everywhere… black…

  I’m calling in my favor. Trin. Trin, I’m calling in my favor.

  Favor. Yes. I promised Remi a favor. And the others too. That’s binding. I have to honor that. I promised them a favor…

  I want you to live. That’s my favor. I want you to live.

  Okay. Live. Live. I can… I can manage that…

  There’s something cool pressed against my lips. Liquid. It’s pushed into my mouth, and I manage to swallow. It feels like it takes everything in me to do it. My body’s shutting down. I can’t feel anything. But I put the last dregs of energy I have into swallowing. I’ve never felt so weak. I can barely drink.

  The liquid slides down my throat, spreading slowly through me. I’m not sure if it’ll work. But I promised Remi, and I’m trying to keep my promise.

  He’s calling in his favor.

  At first, I can’t feel anything. My body is still numb. The darkness isn’t getting worse, but it’s not getting better either, and I’m almost not sure I even still have a physical form.

  I’m just trying to hold on. Clinging to existence.

  But then—then I start to feel again. I have toes. I have fingers. I have limbs. A body. And then I can move it. I can move my body again.

  It hurts. Oh fuck, it hurts so much, but I can do it. Barely, at first. Slowly. But then more. I’m just one big bruise all over, but I’m actually alive. I was so sure I wasn’t going to make it, but I’m still here.

  I made it. I’m okay.

  My eyes open slowly. I wasn’t even aware I’d closed them, honestly. But now they’re open, and I can see Remi staring down at me, holding me with an expression of terror and worry on his face.

  “There you are,” he murmurs, smiling gently as he strokes my face. “You’re okay, Trin. We’ve got you. Just relax.”

  All the other men are around me. When did that happen? I don’t remember. Behind them, I can see that the net’s doing what it’s supposed to do. It’s catching the hellfire, keeping it down, forcing it back into Hell. And what little escaped before the net was set can’t be reflected back down to Earth now that Anderson is dead and the rebellious angels he convinced to work with him have no leader.

  “We did it,” I croak. My voice sounds like I haven’t spoken in years. My throat is dry as a desert. “Humans… are gonna be okay.”

  “Yes, love,” Sawyer promises me. “It’s over. Earth’s going to be all right.”

  He squeezes my hand, and I realize that I’m holding his. I’m not sure when that started, but I’m not mad about it. I wish I had five more hands so I could hold on to each of my men like this.

  I hear a quiet sniffling sound, and I manage to turn my face enough to see that Nix is crying. I want to tease him gently, but I can’t, really—not when he’s got every reason to be crying. I cried when I thought the sins had died, so this makes us pretty even.

  And besides, I don’t think I can actually physically say that much right now. Any big speeches I might’ve planned to make will have to wait.

  Someone presses a kiss to my forehead. I catch a whiff of expensive cologne and realize that it’s Beck. I try to say something, but I just end up murmuring nonsensically instead.

  I’m going to be okay, I want to say. I love you, I love you all so much, I won’t leave you.

  Knight signs something, and Ford translates. “There’s nothing left to fight. Let’s get her the fuck home.”

  I’m pretty sure Ford added the “fuck” part, but I agree with the sentiment entirely.

  I manage to nod, and then Ryland’s lifting me from the ground where Remi holds me cradled against his chest. Remi releases me with one last soft brush of his lips to my temple. Ryland carries me as if I weigh nothing, silent but strong, standing proud.

  All around us, I can see that the demons are defeated. There’s nothing left for us to fight. We really did win.

  That fills me with a warmth that spreads through my entire body. Even if I do die—and at this point, I don’t think I will—we won, and everyone’s safe. That’s what really matters. I did what I was supposed to do, what I wanted to do.

  I was the kind of angel that I want to be.

  Beck uses another one of his group transportation spells to take us back to his penthouse apartment, where I’m immediately put to bed. I still ache all over, and it’ll take me a bit to heal. The potion brought me back from the brink, but it didn’t magically heal me all over.

  I find it poetic that we’re all back here. Where it all began. Even if it didn’t start with all the men here, this is where I met Beck, followed him, and started on this journey that led to me falling for all of the men—and them with me.

  It’s what led to them becoming a family again.

  Of course, I’m not the only invalid. Well, okay, so I’m the only invalid, but I’m not the only one who was injured in the fight. The others are kind of worse for wear too. For a few days, I’m not able to get out of bed though, so they take turns looking after me, making sure that I’m recovering.

  The healing potion they gave me saved my life, but it wasn’t able to save my wings. I can still remember the searing pain when Anderson cut them off, a cut that went deeper than any bodily injury. It seemed like his blade sliced all the way down to my soul, and it still hurts to think that I’ve lost my beautiful wings for good. I can’t summon them anymore, although sometimes I can feel the magic that once imbued them quivering inside me, begging to be let out.

  I try not to let myself linger on the loss or wallow in my sadness though. We all came out of the fight with Salinas and Anderson alive, and we won. We saved Earth. Losing my wings breaks my heart a little, but it’s a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things.

  Thanks to the jump-start from the healing potion, my body recovers pretty quickly, and once I can finally move around without feeling like I’m going to collapse, I start helping take care of the men too.

  They might have their sins, but selfishness isn’t one of them, and all seven of my men—and they are mine, they’re mine just like I’m theirs—have neglected themselves horribly in looking after me. So I have to help them start to take care of themselves.

  I make sure they’re getting the healing potions and care that they need. Ford grumbles about it. I think Ryland wants to, but he’s too dignified to grumble. Still, none of them stop me from fussing over them.

  I’ve never gotten to fuss over them before. Boss them around a little bit and argue with them, sure, but that’s different. I like being able to really show them how much I care, both because they’re letting me and because now we have the time to actually relax.

  How much time do we have, though?

  The seven sins just fought against rogue forces from Heaven and Hell to save humanity. They put their lives on the line. They all could have died. If that isn’t something that earns you redemption, then I don’t know what is. I don’t know anything that’s more redeeming than that.

  And that means…

  That means I could lose them. Once Heaven pulls itself together.

  But Heaven is still a bureaucratic nightmare, so a couple of weeks pass and nothing happens. I’m on edge the entire time though. I’m trying not to show it, but I think the others can pick up on it. I mean, I’m not exactly good at hiding my feelings.

  We all lie in bed together every night. It took Beck less than a day to have a bed delivered that’s big enough for all of us, reminding me of the way he replaced his couch overnight after I bled all over it. Greed can get shit done like that.

  I try not to cling too much as we sleep in a tangle of limbs. It’s all right if I do though, I suppose, because they all cl
ing back.

  I’ve never felt more loved than when I’m being held by my men. I’m a part of something now. I’m a part of a family. And the men are acting more like family again too. They’re helping each other. Assisting Remi in cooking meals, or wrestling with Ford, watching movies with Nix, having long, silent conversations with Knight.

  And Ryland and Beck are actually getting along. They’re becoming the team I knew they could be, closer than blood brothers.

  It fills me with a sense of contentment that I didn’t know was possible. I’ve felt happy before, definitely. Usually when two characters I was rooting for on a television show or in a book series got together. Or when the good guys in a story finally defeated the bad guys.

  But this isn’t just happiness. This is something softer and longer-lasting. Happiness is fleeting, and I think that’s a good thing. Happiness is like a drop on a roller coaster. It feels fun and exhilarating in the moment but you can’t have it all the time—even though, of course, you want it a lot. I think everyone deserves to be happy a lot.

  But contentment. That’s what I feel. I feel it in every bone in my body, and I don’t ever want to lose it.

  I might, though. If the sins have truly redeemed themselves, then I could lose them.

  And I’m almost certain that’s what’s going to happen when I get the summons.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  TRINITY

  The threat of Salinas and Anderson might be over, but that doesn’t mean that entire battle, including the eruption of a volcano, went unnoticed. Humans are coming up with their own explanations, but the supernatural world is abuzz with rumors, and Heaven has definitely taken note of all that went on.

  The next day, I’m summoned before the committee. They’re the group of angels that make all the big decisions. The head honchos. The ones in charge. Higher than Anderson or pretty much any other angel I’ve ever interacted with. I’m definitely way down on the totem pole compared to these guys.

  “What do we do?” Nix asks, translating for Knight.

  “What do you think?” Beckett replies, testy. “You can’t ignore the summons from the people in charge of the whole operation up there.”

  Yeah, he’s right. Even though the last thing I want to do is go Upstairs and deal with this, I know it wouldn’t be a good idea to refuse. Who knows what they might do to us if we resist? I don’t think they’d just smite us with lightning, but you never know.

  Are we going to be in trouble? I really hope not. I don’t know what I’ll do if I am in trouble. How much more could they possibly punish me when I’m already fallen? Not that being fallen feels like much of a punishment anymore, but still.

  Thing is, I can see why they might feel I deserve to be disciplined. I went off and did a bunch of unsanctioned meddling on my own, first with the demon portals and then by going up against Anderson and Salinas. I hope they’ll be able to understand why I didn’t tell anyone Upstairs about Anderson’s treachery, but the committee still might feel as though I should’ve told someone.

  Oh, man. This is such a mess, honestly.

  We’re going to be transported Upstairs—all of us, the men included—so when the time comes, we gather in a tight knot in Beck’s living room and hold hands. Upstairs can do that. No summoning circles or charms needed. You’re just on Earth one minute and then Upstairs the next.

  I used to be able to do that, before I fell. You just flap your wings a certain way and you can pop between the dimensions, similar to how my angel blade resides somewhere, in its personal little pocket dimension, until I summon it. Now I no longer have my wings—and even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to use them to blip up to Heaven. So that leaves us waiting for Upstairs to transport us.

  At least this kind of transport magic doesn’t make me feel sick.

  For a moment there’s nothing, and then a warm feeling of light steals over me. It’s comforting and soothing. And deep inside of me there’s this feeling of… not home. I used to feel that way whenever I went Upstairs. Now it’s similar, but different.

  Familiarity. Yes, that’s what it feels like. This feels familiar, and it’s comforting because of that. But it’s not quite the same as home.

  I open my eyes, giving myself a moment to adjust to the light. It’s warm and bright everywhere, and it feels like we’re standing in the middle of the sky. Nix yelps.

  “Don’t look down,” Beck advises mildly.

  “Easy for you to say,” Nix grumbles. He’s clinging to Ford for dear life. Ford looks rather put out by that development.

  “Trinity.”

  A female voice catches my attention. I turn, following the sound, and see another angel standing there. She’s the same rank as I am and is wearing dark blue robes. A messenger. “If you’ll follow me. The eight of you are expected.”

  We follow her through hallways and past buildings that look vaguely Greek. Remi, Knight, and Sawyer are openly gaping around them. It’s clear they’ve never been here before. They seem fascinated. Ford’s glaring, ready for a fight, while Ryland and Beckett are doing an excellent job of acting like they couldn’t care less and aren’t at all impressed. Who knows, maybe they don’t and aren’t. Nix is still clinging to Ford and looks a bit green. I think he’s got vertigo, poor guy.

  The messenger angel leads us to a large, imposing building that looks like it’s made out of a bunch of clouds stacked on top of one another. I’m not sure how you make fluffy clouds look intimidating, but they’ve managed it. I’ve seen this building before, of course, when I was a proper angel and lived here, but I’ve never been inside it. I’ve never been important enough to work there or be summoned by the committee.

  Looks like a lot’s changed for me.

  Once inside, we’re led to the main chamber, where the messenger angel gives us a warm smile and leaves. I hope her smile means that there’s nothing for us to worry about, but she could just be trying to reassure us or comfort us before the bad news.

  Gah, stop it, Trin!

  I’m so nervous. If I could throw up, I would. That doesn’t really happen Upstairs, but oh man, I want to.

  The sins are here with me. If this was a disciplinary hearing just for myself, then I wouldn’t have to worry as much. I can handle whatever the committee throws at me. But since they asked to see the sins, does that mean they’re going to announce that the sins have redeemed themselves? Does this mean the sins are about to be unmade, taken out of existence?

  Staring down at us from a long, high bench is the committee. We’re in a large room tinged with a warm yellow light, like sunlight, and the committee members are all wearing purple robes. Purple has long been a sign of royalty and importance.

  All of them look extremely old. Angels can make themselves look any age they want to, but these angels clearly want anyone visiting to see how old they are and how venerated they should be. A lot of angels want themselves to look younger, but for the committee, age equals respect. All of them look like wizened men and women in their eighties or nineties, made small and wrinkled with age.

  My stomach is in knots. The committee stares down at us for a moment, and my skin prickles uncomfortably. I try to keep from fidgeting as I wait for them to announce that I achieved my goal and that the sins are redeemed.

  Please, I find myself thinking. Please don’t let that happen. Please, please, please.

  “Trinity,” one of the angels says. His voice is rather like a wheeze. “It seems that you did not succeed in the task that was set for you.”

  Wait.

  What?

  I gape up at them. What do they mean?

  “Of course,” another angel adds, her voice more like a croak, “one could consider this a good thing. Given that Anderson used your appointed task for his own ends.”

  The other angels nod. There are murmurs of agreement.

  “True, true,” one says. “Her failure was for the best in the end.”

  I am… so confused.

  “I’m sorry,” I sta
mmer. “But why are we here? Am I not in trouble? Are they not…” I wave my hands at the sins, who all stand around me, their stances protective. “Are they not redeemed?”

  A bit of frustration seizes me, even though I know this is a stupid point for me to argue. A moment ago, I was worried the sins would be redeemed and wink out of existence, and now I’m worried that my heavenly brethren see them as no better than Salinas or Anderson.

  “Because if you think they still need redeeming,” I say, shaking my head, “you’re off your rockers. These are the best men that I’ve ever known. They’re loyal and brave and selfless. They put their lives on the line to save all of humanity, and the supernatural world while they were at it. They’ve protected me and cared for me this whole time even though there wasn’t really anything in it for them. They—”

  Another angel holds up a hand. She looks like a plump, happy grandmother. “My dear. Your loyalty and defense of others is admirable. But the sins have not been redeemed. You have failed in that task. While we do commend you for the other great tasks you have accomplished…”

  “Were you not listening to anything I was saying?” I shoot back. Once, before I fell, I never would’ve dared to talk back to my superiors so openly. I might not have followed all the rules, but I wasn’t outright rude.

  The committee member, fortunately, seems to take an indulgent attitude. “Well, here. Let us explain it in this manner.” She looks at the sins. “Beckett, who embodies the sin of Greed. Do you renounce that sin?”

  Beckett stares at her like she’s lost her mind. “No.”

  “As I thought.” The angel looks at Remi. “Remington, who embodies the sin of Gluttony. Do you renounce that sin?”

  Remi shakes his head. “No, ma’am.”

  “Phoenix, who embodies the sin of Sloth. Do you renounce that sin?”

  Nix snorts. “Ah, nah, I’m having way too much fun with it, you know? But thanks for the offer.”

  The angel doesn’t seem amused by Nix’s attitude. “Ford, who embodies the sin of Wrath. Do you renounce your sin?”