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“It’s just… I’m an atheist,” she told him. A confused look flashed across Sam’s face. It took everything she had to keep her giggle back as she said, “You know what that is, right?”
“I— yes. Of course. An atheist doesn’t believe in God.”
“That’s right.”
“But you must. I mean, there is a Heavenly Father. God. He’s up above right now.”
“How am I supposed to know that? I’ve never seen him.”
“You see me,” Sam argued. “And I’ve seen Him. I served Him for ages before I fell.”
“That’s great. And, again, how am I supposed to know that? You saw him. I didn’t.”
“Fair enough,” Sam agreed. His black eyes brightened beneath the fluorescent lights. “What about me? Even though I’m in Purgatory now, I’m still an angel. You can believe in me.”
Polly sucked in a breath at the suddenly intense look on his gorgeous face.
Okay. She might be partly teasing him, and she was definitely having a good time doing it, but she still meant what she said. Logically, she knew he was a member of a paranormal faction. She didn’t see a halo, but there was no denying his wings. He was known as one of the Angels of Sin City. Definitely an angel.
As far as she was concerned, though, that just meant he was as much of a paranormal as a shifter or a vampire or a fairy. Another race that had nothing to do with religion.
Her point stood.
“Sure. I guess I do believe in you. But only the Sam you. If you think I believe that you’re a messenger for some God who sits back and relaxes while the world down here goes to shit, you’d have an easier time convincing me to give up my line of work.”
Sam coughed. She thought he might have a tickle in his throat—did angels get tickles in their throat?—until he said in an off-handed voice, “What about that? Could I? Convince you to stop thieving, I mean.”
Polly’s good humor fled as quickly as it came. “Why do you say that?”
“It’s just… remember that twisted female soul who flashed that knife at you?”
“Haven’t forgotten that night, Ace.”
From the way his expression darkened for a split second, she was guessing he hadn’t, either. “Maybe that wouldn’t have happened if you stopped stealing.”
Polly’s stomach tightened. Even so, she continued to keep her voice unconcerned. Carefree. “Esther wasn’t going to stick me or anything. She just wanted to make sure I didn’t target the same marks. That’s all.”
The look he gave her said that he didn’t agree with her one bit. “You’re wrong about that. Trust me. In my line of work—”
With a quirk of her eyebrow, she cut in with, “A rich casino owner?”
“—in my old line of work,” Sam corrected, “I was charged with ferrying souls between Heaven and Hell. I know where she belonged and it isn’t the celestial cities. That female has a dark soul and, if you crossed her, she would have used that knife. But you… you’re good, Polly. You can still be saved.”
Oh.
Oh.
So that’s what this was about. The flirting. The protection. The shadow. It really was about him making up for being Death once upon a time.
Polly felt a little silly, didn’t she? For the last few weeks, she’d convinced herself that the sexy as sin, powerful angel prince had seen something in her, that he’d been as attracted to her as she was him. He watched over her, he protected her against threats she could’ve handled herself, and he even gave her his true name.
Not because he was interested in a curvy blonde with a baby face and quick fingers, though. He didn’t look at her and see a prospective lover. Nope. He saw her as someone flawed, someone broken… as someone who needed to be fixed.
Saved.
Well. Now that she knew where they stood, she could tell Sam where he could shove this hero complex of his—
A phone began to chime.
