âCall me a sentimentalist, but I like the idea of you in one piece. Besides, sheâs not the only one who might be interested in your tasty flesh.â
I tilt my head. âWho told you I was tastyâ
âHavenât you heard that old saying Tasty as a foolâ
âYou made that up.â
âHuh. Must be an angelic saying. Itâs to warn the foolish about things that go bump in the night.â
âItâs daytime.â
âAh. So you donât deny that youâre foolishâ He finally opens his eyes with a grin. But his expression goes slack when he sees all of me.
âWhat are you wearingâ He scans over my outfit.
I was so comfortable that Iâd forgotten Iâm wearing the cropped T-shirt and stretchy shorts. I glance down at myself, wondering if I should be self-conscious. Iâm reasonably covered except for my midriff, and I guess Iâm showing more of my legs than usual.
âThis coming from a guy who runs around shirtless all the timeâ Of course, I kind of like him shirtless and showing off his six-pack abs, but I donât mention that.
âItâs hard to wear a shirt when youâve got wings. Besides, I havenât heard complaints.â
âDonât let it get to your head, Raffe. You havenât heard compliments either.â I want to say that we have plenty of guys who look just as good as he does, but thatâd be a total lie.
Heâs still scrutinizing my outfit. âAre you wearing menâs shortsâ
âI guess so. But they fit.â
âWhose are theyâ
âNobodyâs. I found them in a drawer.â
He reaches over and pulls a thread off the frayed leg. It unravels, slowly winding its way around my thigh and incrementally shortening the already short shorts.
âWhat would you do if you had to make a run for itâ His voice is husky as he stares, mesmerized, at the unraveling thread.
âIâd grab my shoes and run.â
âDressed like this In front of lawless menâ His eyes drift up to my midriff.
âIf youâre worried about pervs breaking into the house, itâs not going to make a difference whether Iâm in this outfit or in baggy jeans and a sweatshirt. Either theyâre decent human beings or theyâre not. Their actions are on them.â
âItâll be tough for them to take any action while Iâm pummeling their faces. Disrespect will not be tolerated.â
I half smile at him. âBecause youâre all about respect.â
He sighs as if a little disgusted with himself. âLately, I seem to be all about you.â
âWhat makes you say thatâ I wish my voice didnât sound so breathless.
âIâm sitting on the hard floor outside your door while you take a cozy little nap, arenât Iâ
I slide down the wall to sit beside him on the hallway floor. We sit with our arms almost touching, letting the quiet settle around us.
After a while, I say, âI think sleep would do you some good. You can take the bed. Iâll keep watch for a bit.â
âNot a chance. Itâs you whoâs at risk, not me.â
âWhat is it that you think is going to get meâ My arm rubs against his when I shift to look at him.
âThe list is endless.â
âSince when did you become so protectiveâ
âSince my enemies have determined that youâre my Daughter of Man.â
I swallow. My throat is dry.
âThey haveâ
âBeliel saw us together at the masquerade. Even with my mask on, Uriel knew it was me on the beach with you.â
âSo am Iâ I whisper. âYour Daughter of Manâ I can almost hear my heart pounding. It beats even harder when I realize that he can probably hear it.
He looks away from me. âSome things just canât be. But neither Uri nor Beliel understand that.â
I let my breath out â slowly, controlled. He might as well have said that I donât understand it either.
âSo who exactly would be coming after meâ I ask.
âAside from the usual suspects, the entire host of angels saw you with me when I cut the wings off Beliel. They think youâre traveling in the company of a mask-wearing âdemonâ who cuts wings off âangels.â Thatâs enough to come after you, if only to find me. Besides, youâre an angel killer now, for which the penalty is an automatic death sentence. Youâre quite the popular girl.â
I think about that for a minute. Is there really anything I can do about it âBut we all look alike to them, right How can they even tell us apart They all look the same to me. Theyâre all so darned perfect in every way â perfect Olympian bodies, perfectly beautiful faces, even perfect hair. If it wasnât for you, Iâd think that angels were all totally interchangeable.â
âYou mean because Iâm beyond perfectâ
âNo. Because youâre so humble.â
âHumilityâs overrated.â
âSo is clear self-assessment, apparently.â
âReal warriors donât stand for psychobabble.â
âOr for rational thinking.â
He glances at my naked legs.
âNo, not that rational, I admit.â Raffe stands up and puts out a hand to me. âCome on. Get some sleep.â
âOnly if you do too.â I grab his hand, and he pulls me up.