“You could have mastered that tell.” Haziel had met very skilled imps in her time. The more they lied, the better they got at it.
Yesterday glared at her. “You’re not helping.”
“Oh, I am.” Haziel moved closer to Wrath. “But I’m helping him not you.”
Wrath’s head snapped around and those blue eyes smoldered at her. “Are you, sweet seraph? Are you helping a cursed hell prince?”
His voice stroked across her senses and made her want to stretch and purr. “Ramiel wanted me to help keep you out of trouble.”
The warmth in Wrath’s eyes died, and he went back to glowering at Yesterday. “Tell me your information first, and then I will decide if you’re lying.” He gave Yesterday a shake. “And don’t think of lying or bargaining with me. I still might end you even once I’ve heard your information.”
“How is that fair?” Yesterday sputtered. “I bargain information for my life. That’s how this works.”
Wrath put his face close to Yesterday’s and whispered, “Rule change.”
He looked like a powerful, deadly predator as he toyed with Yesterday, and heaven help her, but she liked it. There was something appealingly primal about Wrath. Ava had said something similar. That part of Wrath’s attraction, aside from that mouthwatering body and those penetrating eyes, was the way you felt safe when he was around. Safe in a way that made you want to melt into the shadows behind him and have him face all your fears and troubles.
There was a brutal honestly to him as well.
“Lucifer isn’t in hell,” Yesterday babbled. “He’s been spotted on the earth plane.”
“By who?” Wrath snarled.
“Demons.” Yesterday twisted in Wrath’s grasp like a windblown dandelion. “We talk to each other, and the rumor is that he has left hell for the earth plane and hasn’t been seen down here. Not since you’ve been here anyway.”
That made sense, but it might be a good idea to verify if Lucifer had been near his palace recently. “If he does have Eddie—” She kept her tone gentle. Wrath was especially hair trigger around the topic of his daughter. “Then it would make sense for him to be on earth.” She pointed at Yesterday. “He’s right, demons gossip worse than angels, and we would have heard something about him if he were here.”
“I went to Lucifer’s palace. He wasn’t there and hasn’t been there recently.” Wrath glanced from her to Yesterday and then opened his hand and dropped the imp.
Yesterday wasted no time in using those stubby legs to exit himself from the courtyard.
Watching him scurry off, Haziel said, “You’re going to show compassion?”
“I have been known to.” Wrath pulled a wry expression. “Not often, but it has happened.”
She laughed and resisted the urge to tease him further. “When did you go to Lucifer’s palace?”
“Before I came to get you.” He cleared his throat and stared over her head. “It was why I left you with Ava. I didn’t know what I would find there, and I didn’t want to put you between myself and Lucifer.” He blushed. “Didn’t want to put you in danger.”
“I’m a seraph and a strong one.” She didn’t feel it was fair to remind him that she’d mere minutes ago been caught between him and Ava, so she changed the subject. “Earth?”
With a curt nod, Wrath opened his wings and took to the skies.
Haziel watched him climb with a wince. As a seraph she had wonderful wings, three sets of them in fact, which on a normal day made the seraphim more agile and faster in the air than even the archangels. But six wings meant a lot of delicate bones and cartilage to damage, and right now, her right wing was aching like a demon. When she’d smacked into the wall, she must have damaged something.
Taking a deep breath, she snapped open her wings. A whimper of pain got away from her before she could stop it. Fortunately Wrath was too far ahead of her to hear and already stroking the air powerfully in the direction of Lust’s demesne.
It was much quicker to fly than walk, and now that Ava knew they were leaving her territory, it was also safer.
And she didn’t want Wrath feeling bad about her damaged humerus. The pain seared from her wing and down her back, necessitating the use of a wonderful curse she’d heard on earth. “Motherfucker!”
The thing about normally being able to fly faster than an archangel, or in this case hell prince, was that it didn’t give an angel a true appreciation of how fast they were. This angel wobbling along like a lame duck was learning the hard way that hell princes could get some speed through their feathers. Haziel knew she could call out and ask him to slow down, but that would mean him getting to his daughter slower, and she didn’t want him to feel guilty about her injured wing on top of his residual guilt about her bruised arms.
Pain, however, had different ideas and went from awful to searing, unbearable agony. It felt like the entire right side of her body was a torturous combination of numb and hypersensitive. She lost feeling in her right hand and cradled her arm against her chest as hot sparks prickled through it and brought tears to her eyes. Ahead of her, Wrath soared over the border between Ava and Shade’s demesnes. He dipped his shoulder and took a long, lazy bank to the right.
And Haziel tried. She lowered her right shoulder and dropped like a stone.
Her injured right wing snapped back and fluttered uselessly amongst the other two on that side. She tried to flap her remaining wings, but her body was beyond responding and too busy hurtling her straight for the ground.
The fall wouldn’t kill her, but it was going to fucking hurt, and she braced for impact.
A hard body appeared in front of her, and she smashed into Wrath’s chest.
“Angel.” He grunted as he took the impact and then his large wings tilted to create a backdraft and he lowered them to the ground. He touched down softly, but Haziel felt the slight jolt in every fiber of her being. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, but a guttural moan escaped before she could censor it. The world wobbled in front of her eyes. Blood drained from her head, and everything went dark.
She woke in a cave with luminous moss creating a soft indigo glow on the walls. She was lying close to a pool of shimmering iridescent blue water, and she was lying against Wrath. His big arm cradled her body against his chest, her injured wing draped gently over his forearm. And Haziel felt completely safe.
He must have sensed her wake, because he whispered, “Angel?”
She meant to say something blithe and bright, to allay the deep concern throbbing in his bass voice. What she said instead was, “Gargh.” Or something close to that.
His large hand cupped her cheek and stroked hair away from her face. “Just rest, sweetheart,” he murmured. “We’ll have you better in no time.”
“My wing.” She dared not move for fear of starting the torment again. So far, her attempt to keep her injury quiet was going swimmingly.
“The humerus is broken,” he said. “I splinted it and did as much healing as I could. I think if you keep it still for a day or two, it’ll repair itself.” He nudged her face up with a finger. “Here.” He put a bottle against her lips. “Take a sip or two of water and then get some more rest.”
“Thank you,” she managed before taking a sip of water. “You should leave me here. Find Eddie.” Sleep pushed her eyelids back together again.
