A tall, winged silhouette stepped into the buzz of the warehouse lights, the icy blue of his eyes contrasting sharply with the rich brown of his skin. A curtain of black waves brushed his broad shoulders, framing his defined jaw in shadowy wisps.
Dallas elbowed Loren in the ribs. “Holy shit.”
Even without the wings, it would’ve been impossible to mistake him for anyone else. He was an Angel of Death, a member of a Darkslaying circle and former soldier for the Aerial Fleet. Dallas was practically glowing as she appraised the magical wings anchored to his muscled upper back, the feathers as black and shining as the Angel’s hair. A bodysuit fit him like a glove, the material gleaming like a newly tarred road.
Darien was grinning like a fiend. “Dominic,” he said in greeting.
“What brings you to shantytown on such a fine evening?” Dominic said, stepping forward to clasp hands with Darien. Two overlapping wings marked his neck in white ink. “Don’t tell me you’re into those fried pissers old Pat’s been selling.”
Darien barked a laugh. “Not a chance. I prefer my intestines intact and exactly where they are, thanks.” The Angel chuckled. “I have some questions for Casen.”
Dominic matched his grin. “Only you’d have the balls to come here and grill the Butcher with questions. I guess that explains why I always called youDaredevilwhen we were kids.” His glacial eyes snapped to the warehouse doors. “Since when does Casen make you wait outside?”
Darien inclined his head toward the bouncer. “This fucker behind me won’t let these two see the Chopping Block.”
Loren didn’t turn around to read the bouncer’s reaction when Dominic Valencia threw a glance his way, though she had a feeling the wolf was beginning to realize his mistake.
“Wolves,” Dominic muttered. “I hear you cleared your name from Delaney’s blacklist. How’d you get him to forgive you?”
“Brought him a few teeth from the mouth of his recently excommunicated Reaper.”
Dominic gave a husky laugh. “Shit.” And then his focus flicked between Dallas and Loren. The corner of his mouth tipped up. “What do we have here anyway?”
Darien introduced Dallas and Loren to Dominic, and when they were finished greeting each other, Darien said, “These two are friends with one of the missing girls.”
“I’ve been hearing all about that. Since when do college-age human girls go missing?”
“Beats me.” Darien shrugged. “What brings you here, Dom?”
“The usual: a body to bag. The coin of the realm to rake in.”
“Sounds like I’ve got some competition.”
Dominic smirked. “We’ll compare numbers at year-end and see who placed first.”
“I’d say the winner takes a hundred gold mynet, but I feel sorry for your wallet already.”
The Angel wheezed a laugh. “Douchebag.” But he extended a hand. “You’re on. I look forward to beating your conceited ass into the ground.”
The Devil shook the Angel’s hand. “Good luck with that, my feathered friend.”
Loren fought a smile, while Dallas threw her head back and outright cackled.
Dominic was still smiling as he flipped Darien off and backed into the maze of food carts. “Gotta roll. I’m meeting Conrad in ten.”
“Tell him we’re overdue for a game of poker.”
“Will do. Though I should warn you, he’s been practicing. The guy’s as much of a sore loser as you are.”
Darien barked a laugh. “You’re a cocksucker.”
The Angel was grinning. “Catch you later.” He’d barely finished speaking before he launched into the air, wings churning up dust as he disappeared through a gap in the roof.
As soon as he was gone, Loren whispered, “Are you sure you trust him?”
Darien merely said, “Dom’s like a brother to me. He’s one of the few people I would trust with my life, and that’s saying a lot.”
Darien’s head suddenly whipped around, his eyes turning black as he swept the interior of the warehouse. He barely spared a glance for Loren as he stepped closer to her and tightened the folds of his jacket around her.
