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And Valen.
Valen was War.
Apt considering the way he made me feel inside.
His jeans were deep red, like blood. His armour was only on one shoulder, with a strap to hold it in place over his chest, and he wore similar leather wraps, in red, on his forearms like Marco. His hair had been coloured a vibrant red and styled spikey and jagged. His eyes were outlined in heavy, smudged black and every single scar on his body had been outlined and highlighted.
I knew I shouldn’t have liked it, but I did.
A cheer rose up and Marco threw his hands in the air in victory. The cheer doubled in volume. Marco lapped it up as he and the other Angels walked over to their God.
“Definitely not the Musketeers,” Apollo commented dryly, hugging me tight.
Valen’s eyes skipped right over me like he was looking for something, but I didn’t know what. Or who. He just muttered something unintelligible and stalked off through the party.
“You look lovely, missus,” Marco said to me.
I smiled. “Not as impressive as you. Angel, indeed.”
He laughed. “And do my eyes deceive me or is that fair Persephone I see in front of me.”
Florence gave him a once over. “That’s Queen to you, Death.”
Marco’s grin was made all the more wicked by his face paint. “Death bows to you, my queen.”
Oh, I was not being involved with that any more than I needed to be.
With Apollo distracted by the other Angels, I took the opportunity to slip away and get a drink. As I was waiting by the bar, Valen appeared beside me. Heat emanated from him, and I so desperately wanted to run my hands over the rigid exposed contours of his body.
“I thought it was bold of Apollo to be fondling a brunette in public.”
“Excuse me?” I asked indignantly.
“You coloured your hair.”
I huffed. “So did you.”
“It’s temporary.”
“So is mine.”
“Shame.”
“You like it brown?” I asked, but he ignored it.
“And, what the fuck do you call this?” he asked as he flicked the bottom of my skirt.
“A costume, Valen,” I told him.
“You quite happy exposing so much of yourself?”
“Are you?”
He ignored the meaning of my question and turned it back on me. “Happy with you exposing that much? No.”
I looked him in the eye. “Apollo doesn’t seem to mind.”
He stepped closer to me. “No. Because God hasn’t stopped to consider that anyone else will eventhinkof touching what’s his.”
