Maybe driving all the way up here was worth it after all.
Talos smiled politely. “Now, I do believe we can get you access?—”
The door flew off its hinges, crashing into one of the display cases and shattering it into bits. A mere moment later, the bloodied corpse of a man in a security uniform sailed through the doorway, taking out another case. Another man followed, but this one missed a case by a mile.
“I gravely miscalculated my trajectory,” a man in glasses drawled.
“Funny way of saying you missed,” teased his companion, a young man with a dashing smile. “You can pick him up and try again.”
Fuck, they looked familiar.
Seymour didn’t know where he’d seen the pair before, but he suspected it wasn’t good.
A third man with icy blue eyes and a slick three-piece suit stalked forward, his gaze burning into Seymour’s.
“Mr. Heiss.” Talos scowled as he moved to intercept him. “You do not have an appointment. And killing my guards? Really?” He laughed. “This is?—”
Mr. Heiss…changed.
Purple skin, giant horns, a crown of fire—oh fuckin’ fabulous, he was ademon.
Mr. Heiss grabbed Talos by the throat and ripped his head right off.
“What the fuck?” Seymour screamed as he scrambled behind the desk to take cover and look for a weapon.
Strangely, there was no blood—only sparks and wires writhing like snakes from the stump of Talos’s neck.
Talos was a robot?
What the fuck?
“Sariel,” Mr. Heiss snapped. “Grab the mortal. We don’t have much time.”
“Sariel…?” Seymour froze.
No.
It couldn’t be.
But it was—Sariel entered the room dressed in a blue suit, a thick metal collar around his neck, and wings. Big poofy feathery fuckingwingswith an actual halo glowing over his head.
Sariel was anangel?
Seymour stared stupidly, stunned in place. He should be thinking of a way to run out the door, grab one of those fancy vases and hit someone with it, but he couldn’t look away from the sheer ethereal beauty of Sariel in this moment.
Sariel’s eyes widened and then closed as his expression fell. He grabbed Seymour’s arms and held on tight as he sighed.
Right. Shit. Was supposed to be escaping.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Seymour hissed. “Let go of me!”
“I am very sorry,” Sariel whispered. “I cannot.” He bowed his head. “I also do not think I am going to make it for coffee.”
“No fucking shit, asshole.”
CHAPTER
THREE
