Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 131708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
The Sergeant at Arms nodded, his deep-brown eyes as sober as always. “Caught our friend walking the perimeter of the building, peeking through windows. Not sure what he expected to find.”
Dice lifted a brow. “Did you ask?”
Pulling a face, Jester skimmed a hand over his dark buzzcut. “Nah, I didn’t see any point. He’ll just lie. I don’t have time to listen to bullshit,” he added, as if he had a thousand things eating up his time and attention. Which couldn’t be further from the truth.
Viper frowned. “And what is it that you’re scheduled to do?”
Jester only twisted his mouth.
Inwardly sighing, Viper reached for the doorknob.
“By the way, I figure you’ll be interested in knowing he ain’t a demon like we assumed. The guy’s an Earth-bound angel.”
“That so?” Viper narrowed his eyes. “Interesting.” His entity stretched out inside him, hoping their evening was about to perk up.
Personally, Viper thought it messed up that some angels were placed on Earth and then forced to earn their halo, especially when they hadn’t done anything to warrant that. The struggle was forced upon those whose parents had angered the powers-that-be in the upper realm. Basically, these angels paid for the sins of their parents.
There were plenty of Earth-bound angels in this realm. They tended to keep their distance from his club—they wouldn’t want to risk upsetting heaven’s higher-ups by consorting with the Fallen. That was no way to earn a halo.
Viper opened the door and stalked into the office. He exchanged a brief nod with the lean, olive-skinned male who stood near the window. Only then did he switch his attention to the stranger sitting in a chair with his back to Viper—a back that was currently ruler straight. The guy didn’t turn to check who’d entered the room, just remained perfectly still.
Viper prowled further into the office and moved to stand in front of his guest. It was easy to sense that the slim, balding, narrow-faced male was an angel—he gave off the same low-hum frequency that all celestial beings did; a frequency only other angels would pick up.
But … there was something not quite right here. The male’s face was as blank as that of any doll. But his light-green eyes? Alive with emotion.
Someone had taken the guy’s mental wheel; had made him their—perhaps willing, perhaps unwilling—puppet.
Viper tipped his head to the side. “And just who might you be?”
A smile lit the angel’s gaze. “I suppose it’s not easy to recognize me in this get-up.”
Only one celestial he knew would describe a person whose mind they’d hijacked as a ‘get-up’, as if he wore their skin. A celestial who Viper had considered a friend until, over the course of their ‘careers’, they’d lost touch. “Ophaniel.”
The archangel gave a graceful incline of his head.
Omen shifted, swearing low.
Viper felt his jaw harden. Ophaniel was a seasoned slayer who’d been forced to retire when he’d … changed. Centuries of killing could do that to a celestial—mostly because their innately pure inner entity, not built to destroy, would eventually fracture from the strain. Those fractures would affect the other half of their soul, and so the celestial would turn.
Ophaniel’s kills had become unnecessarily gruesome. At times, he’d killed not only his target, but their families. There were even occasions when he’d butchered archangels within his own unit because they’d annoyed him. Not out of cruelty, but because he’d come to feel numb.
That same numbness had once crept up on Viper until he’d found Ella.
No longer useful to the Uppers, being that Ophaniel was difficult to control, they’d dropped him from his unit. But, as they considered him an extremely expendable asset, they would offer him jobs that had proven difficult for others to complete. Better to lose a retired and ‘damaged’ slayer than one of their active and proficient slayers.
Viper narrowed his eyes. “If you’ve come to execute me, this wasn’t the best way to go about it.” When using a puppet, Ophaniel couldn’t access his own offensive abilities; only those whose mind he’d taken over. His current celestial ‘get-up’ would stand no chance against Viper.
“I had thought the Uppers would offer me a substantial fee to end you,” said Ophaniel. “But they feel that killing you would require more caution and control than I possess.”
They weren’t wrong.
“They came to me because you and I were once friends, so they feel you’d be more likely to hear me out. I would have just appeared at your compound and requested an audience with you, but you wouldn’t have come to the gate.”
Viper turned away any celestial who came for a ‘chat’, because they were only ever acting as messengers for the Uppers; pressuring him to return to heaven.
Viper leaned back onto his office desk. “My answer is still no.”
“Doesn’t matter. Our superiors don’t care what you want, they care that you do as ordered. You know that.”