“He’s coming,” Bianca rasped and backed them through the exit doors.
“How does she know that?” Carmen glanced at Weaz-adj. “Can she really tell where the archangel is?”
Her question was justified. In his many millennia of dealing with humans, he’d only encountered a handful of witches who could.
“Of course she can’t.” Weaz-adj puffed up his chest. “I can barely sense the supernaturals, and I have more power than anyone in this coven.”
“Jesus!” Bianca murmured in Lucifer’s ear.
Carmen blinked up at Weaz-adj with adulation. “I bet you have more power than the entire coven combined.”
Weaz-adj preened. “Well, I’m not sure about that.”
“I’m going to vomit,” Bianca muttered.
Lucifer didn’t think it was because of the exertion of pushing his chair.
Cool night air hit his face.
Raphael’s presence was reassuringly close now.
An electronic blip was followed by a flash of red lights.
“It should be easy to get him into the van,” Lynn called over her shoulder as she ran ahead of them. “I borrowed it from the retirement center I volunteer at.”
The faint swish of giant wings stroking the night air reached him, but he was certain the humans didn’t have his keen hearing.
“Hurry!” Bianca vibrated with tension, glancing between the ramp being lowered from the van and the sky.
Lynn got behind the wheel and started the engine.
Much spryer than her age suggested, Patty leapt into the passenger side.
Raphael had better flap fucking faster.
The moment the ramp connected with the asphalt, Bianca shoved him up it and tumbled into the van after him.
Lucifer wanted to scream with rage.
Weaz-adj yelped as Bianca started to close the door. He and Carmen barely made it in time before Bianca slammed the door closed.
Then the van was burning rubber out of the parking lot.
His wheelchair lurched forward and faceplanted him against the window—giving him a perfect view of Raphael landing outside the theatre and staring after the van in confusion.
Chapter Four
Clayton, Ontario, didn’t offer much in the way of fine dining. Correction: Clayton, Ontario, offered nothing in the way of fine dining, but Eddie couldn’t fault the company.
Breathtakingly handsome, Shade sat across the table from her in Clayton’s quaint pub. Light played over the sculpted lines of his beautiful face and got lost in the rich darkness of his hair. She couldn’t have enjoyed an evening more if he’d taken her to a Michelin star restaurant.
Dee had virtually shoved them out the door earlier tonight and taken over running Macbeth’s closing night.
Eddie had even unearthed a pair of jeans without paint splatters and a pretty top for the occasion. Not that anyone was looking at her. All gazes strayed to Shade, several of them getting stuck there. Including their waitress, who hovered over him as he looked at the dessert selections.
The woman looked like she’d rather cover Shade in chocolate sauce and have him. Eddie didn’t blame her. It was more than the beautiful symmetry of his face and body. Shade carried the near tangible air of sex around with him.
Back at the theatre, Eddie had a set strike waiting for her, Dee and Daniel’s verbal sparring—which looked a lot too much like flirting for her peace of mind—an active hell gate, an inconsolable Lillian who had discovered a cold sore this morning, and two sulky hell hounds who were not at all happy about her going off without them this evening.
“What do you think, Eddie?” Shade’s eyes had darkened to charcoal in the subdued lighting. “Cheesecake of creme brûlée?” His smile turned wicked and took her reasoning capacity with it. “Or both?”
With her gaze locked on Shade, the waitress probably didn’t remember Eddie was sitting opposite him at the table. “They’re both excellent choices.”
“Cheesecake,” Eddie said, with no clear idea of what she really wanted. Nope. That was a rotten, stinking lie, right there. What she really wanted was sharing a table with her and turning the entire pub into goo.
Shade wasn’t doing it on purpose. His eyes hadn’t turned silver once, and Sophia was teaching her about power signatures, how to identify them and how to recognize who they belonged to. If he had been doing his lust thing, she would have known.
Shade’s power oozed like honey when he used it. Slow, sensual, and unbearably sweet, it was more of a sneak attack than a full-frontal assault. Wrath’s power, on the other hand, rushed through her like fast running lava. It incinerated and swept you along in the rush. Sophia’s was like a balmy tropical sea breeze. She had the same warmth to her power as Shade, but hers cooled and soothed, whilst Shade’s heated and provoked.
Leaning across the table, Shade stared at her intently. “Those are some deep thoughts you’re having.”
“Sophia has been teaching me power signatures,” she said. Sophia had also been teaching her how to fight like Vexia and use her own power. It turns out, she had some neat tricks. Like Vexia, she could teleport short distances.
Shade cocked his head. “How’s that going?”
“Well.” Taking his hand, she gave it a squeeze and offered him a reassuring smile. He didn’t like having her out of his sight for long. Not that she was in any danger when she was with Sophia, who was also known as the archangel Uriel. As far as protection went, Sophia was overqualified. Shade also didn’t like that it was Sophia instructing her, but Eddie would never have been able to concentrate for long enough to learn anything if he was her tutor.
