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My heart thudded in my chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His smirked suggested he certainly knew something. “Don’t ye?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Funny, that. You’ve only got God all over you. Desperate for you. In five years, I’ve not seen him desperate, missus. Lucky the woman he lost his mind over was the one he’s going to marry, isn’t it?”
I swallowed hard. “What are you implying, Marco?”
He shrugged. “Nothing. Just, it would be a shame if someone wanted someone they shouldn’t have, wouldn’t it?”
I cleared my throat. “Would it?”
“It would.”
“And you’d know, would you?”
“Maybe.”
“And how would you know?” I asked indignantly.
“I’m not sure that’s your business, missus.”
“I think you’ve made it my business, Marco.”
He took a step towards me. “Princesses and Gods aren’t the only ones whose lives are planned for them, missus,” he said. “Even the lowliest of Angels has powers higher than God that he must obey.”
“And exactly what powers do you have to obey, Marco?”
He kicked his eyebrows. “It’s not just me, missus. Or has Apollo’s cock distracted you so much that you’ve not noticed his right hand is missing.”
My heart skipped a painful beat. “I’ve noticed.”
Marco nodded. “And have you noticed how it’s affected our ruthless lord?”
I paused. “How has it affected him?”
Marco gave a shrug. “Can’t rightly say. He doesn’t confide in little old me. But he was up drinking all night with the worst case of the jitters I’ve seen on a man in a while.”
“Is he okay?”
“He will be. Can’t say the same for Valk.”
Valen. Who’d killed people. Who’d probably done things I couldn’t even begin to imagine. And if he hadn’t done them, he knew someone who had. What could he possibly be doing that would worry any of them?
Because I saw all Marco’s blustering for what it was. He was concerned. Say what you will about the nature of the Saints, but God and his Angels cared about each other.
When I saw Apollo at Lunch, my suspicions were confirmed.
Oh, he tried to hide it. Tried to hide his worry behind smiles and kisses, and jokes. But I saw through it. I saw the tightness in the corner of his eyes. I saw the way his jaw clenched. I felt the way his hand tremored in mine now and then. The way he reached for me like I was providing him comfort. The way his laughter was just a bit too loud, a bit too sudden, like he was compensating.
I did my best to be there for him. I left choir practice as quickly as possible and went straight to his room. He was talking to Fender, but seemed not to care when he saw me.
“I don’t fucking care,” Apollo was saying to Fender when I got there. “We said a full crate, so it better be a fucking full crate. For each piece missing, I’ll take a finger. Tell the Polettis...” As he ran an obviously agitated hand through his hair, he turned and saw me. “Get out,” he snapped at Fender, clearly not caring that much about whatever the Polettis needed to know.
Fender gave me a nod and hurried out. I saw on the Angel’s face that he knew his God was in a mood. Apollo didn’t often snap at his Angels. He was all charm and suave sophistication.
“You okay?” I asked him as he drew me into his arms.
