Heoughtto be afraid of her. Branding and castrating calves was a skill with many applications.
“Max doesn’t seem too put out,” Arthur said. “May I ask what this is regarding?”
“That tattoo on his back, you asshole.Youdesigned it, didn’t you? Isn’t that what Casimir said at the election ceremony, thatyoudesigned all your back pieces?”
Arthur became a bit cooler as he stared down his nose at her with those eyes of silver ice. Jeez, all these guys were ridiculously tall. “If you don’t like his tattoo, take it up with him. It’s a bit too big for ablation, but perhaps he can modify it into something that you would prefer inked on your husband’s skin.”
“It doesn’t matter whether Ilikeit or not. What kind of a friend would design a tattoo that is supposed to reflect his soul and make itdevil wings?”
Arthur’s frown was confused, and he blinked. “It’s not devil wings.”
“Yes, it is.”
“They’renot.I made perfect angelic wings. Every feather, every calamus, every rachis, fluff, barb, and bit of down is precise and perfect. I modeled them after a swan and Archangel Gabriel’s wings from a painting of the Annunciation by Bartolomé Esteban Murillo.”
“They’renotan angel’s wings. They’rebroken.They are the wings of afallenangel, not Gabriel.”
Arthur squinted those fascinating eyes at her. “What do you mean, ‘they’re broken’?”
“They’rebroken!”she whisper-shouted at him. If they got any louder, Max and Casimir were going to hear them, even over the roar of the engines from outside the fuselage. “The wings are slashed and shattered andbroken!They lookjust likehe fell from Heaven into the Pit andbrokehis angel wings!”
Arthur shook his head, his lips pursed. “I assure you, when Maxence left the tattoo parlor with me, they were the wings of an archangel, one whose soul is so pure that he will serve God in every facet of his life as he flies through the world, by whichever path he eventually chose.”
“But that’snotwhat’s on there.”
“I know what I drew, and I wasatthe tattoo parlor with the artist making sure it was perfect. Is that what hetoldyou?”
“Yes,”she hissed at him.
Arthur’s expression turned troubled. “Have youseenhim naked? I would’ve thought, the way you two were necking back here like teenagers, that you certainly had scruffed like mad minks at some point. But now it seems that you haven’t seen his back,because if you had, you would have seen how every line of my design is crisp and forms perfect angelic wings.Why are you marrying him?”
Dree flinched backward, defensive. “Because I want to.”
“Maxence isn’t the type towait.Trust me on that one.” He looked her up and down, his eyes narrowing. “And you don’t seem the type, either. You’re not playing virginal exploration games with him. Those are real moves. Why haven’t you shagged him yet?”
“I—we—we have!”
“And yet you’veobviouslynever seen the tattoo on his back.Why is that?”
“Yes, I have.I’ve seen it.”
His scrutiny of her was turning angry. “We will ask him—”
That seemed like a very bad idea.“No.Don’t mention to him that I talked to you. I’ll figure out what’s going on.”
Arthur was watching her. “You seemed sure. You seemed like hetoldyou it was of a devil’s wings for whatever reason, so you could pass an interrogation, perhaps, but you haven’tseenhis skin.”
“Just—justdon’t,okay? Maybe I misinterpreted it.”
“I don’t like secrets I don’t understand, especially when it comes to my friends.” He strolled away, his hands in his pockets.
Dree followed him to make sure Arthur didn’t narc to Max that she had been accosting him.
Chapter Sixteen
Stars
Dree
