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If it had been any other being, she would have thought he was jealous, but despite every opportunity she’d given him, Ramiel had never shown that sort of interest in her. “Well, yes.” Heat flooded her cheeks. There were words she could use that were not a lie. “We have spent some time together. He has taken good care of me while we were in hell.”
“He abandoned you in Mammon’s demesne.” Ramiel folded his arms over his muscular chest. “I insisted that he fetch you back.”
“Ava.” The correction came automatically. “She doesn’t answer to Mammon and prefers Ava.”
As sure as she was that Ramiel would have been angry about her being left with Ava, she wasn’t sure he was telling her the entire truth. Or not the truth she would love to believe. Her heart whispered that if he had insisted Wrath fetch her, it wouldn’t have been out of fondness—not the sort of fondness she craved from him.
Like all archangels, Ramiel was stunning, even down to the small imperfections that stopped him from being too beautiful. In Ramiel’s case, a small bump marred the bridge of his strong nose. His biceps wore a few small scars that he’d gotten from sword fights. The flaws only made him better looking, but her heart did not miss a beat like it did when she looked at Wrath’s brutal beauty.
He studied her face. “You look different.”
“I injured my wing.” She longed for a mirror to see what Ramiel was talking about.
“And Wrath healed it for you?”
“Yes.” Guilt flooded through her again. Ramiel would be horrified by what had transpired between her and Wrath. He would see it as a form of betrayal. She was a terrible seraph to entertain feelings for a being who was the arch nemesis of the angel she had always claimed to love. She needed to change the subject. “They need your help with her.” She pointed to the ceiling that separated them from Eddie’s room. “Your power is so similar to Wrath’s, but gentler and more inclined to peace than war.” As she spoke her enthusiasm for her idea grew. “If you worked with her sire, she would heal faster and better.”
Ramiel pursed his perfectly formed lips. “You’re right. I could help her.”
“Will you?” Hope rang painfully clearly in her voice.
Ramiel stepped closer to her. He took her braid and wrapped it tenderly around his fist. He seemed to be studying the individual strands of her hair. “I rather think that depends on you.”
“I don’t understand.” She’d seen Ramiel in many different moods, but this was a new one for her, and she felt adrift as she tried to navigate it. Perhaps it was her own guilt about the secrets between them that made her view him differently. She had never kept secrets from Ramiel. Until now.
“You see, Haziel. I know you.” He tugged on her hair and brought her closer to him. Heat radiated from his hard body, but it didn’t make her want to press into him like it did with Wrath. She didn’t know what to make of that but the look in Ramiel’s eyes kept her frozen; half speculative, and cunning. “You cannot lie to me, so if I ask you a direct question you will be forced to give me the answer.”
“Please don’t ask it,” she whispered, her heart in her throat.
“And that, in itself, is an answer.” He looked at her with profound disappointment, dropping her braid as he stepped back. “There is more between you and Wrath,” he said. “And you are dangerously close to him.” He shrugged. “I blame myself for sending you on a mission with him. I didn’t think, however, you would be foolish enough to fall for a lout like him.”
Haziel burned to defend Wrath, but Ramiel’s unreadable mood kept her silent. She had fallen for Wrath, that much was true. But she had no idea how far or how deep.
“I will help the Nephilim.” Ramiel sighed and stepped back. “And in return you will leave this theatre on a mission for me, and not tell Wrath that you have gone.”
“Why?” She tried to glean the answer from his eyes. “Lucifer is still missing. The rebel demon hordes are growing. Our work in hell is not complete.”
“Yours is.” His eyes went emerald hard. “You will put distance between yourself and Wrath. You will go and investigate the stirring of the horsemen. And in exchange, I will help with his daughter.”
Haziel gaped at him. She had never seen Ramiel’s cunning streak turned against her. It felt like a kick to her chest. She was momentarily robbed of breath. “Why are you doing this?”
“Haziel.” He shook his head. “You are so naive and it falls to me to protect you. Do as I ask, and I will help his daughter. And once you are finished, you will return to my demesne and remain there. I gave you my trust, and you have not proven worthy.”
That hurt, and she barely suppressed a flinch. But Ramiel spoke only the truth. She had come dangerously close to betraying Ramiel in deed, and she had betrayed him in thought.
Then she thought about Eddie and the shock of seeing her lying drained and depleted in that bed. The horror Wrath had concealed from his daughter about her condition. The heartbreak written clear across Shade’s face. And as much as she wanted to remain here, there really was no choice. Wrath loved his daughter, and perhaps if she hadn’t delayed him in hell, they would have found Eddie sooner. If ensuring Eddie healed completely would spare Wrath the pain of watching her struggle, then that’s what she’d do. “When would you like me to leave?”
“Now.”
“I promised Wrath I would stay until he got back.”
Ramiel’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I will explain that you have gone.” He spread his arms. “The choice is yours, however.” He smirked as if he already knew her decision.
And for the first time in the thousands of years she had served him, Haziel did not like her archangel.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Eddie woke to her bedroom door creaking open. The hounds were bookending her, but Shade wasn’t there.
