His cell dinged. Before he could check Michael’s message, a low-level angel took form near him, handed him a missive, and vaporized.
Lore unsealed the note from Chamuel.
Rania Deveraux.
Powers unfolding, keep an eye on her. Notify if the subject’s sway increases.
He touched the name, and an image of a dark-haired woman with honey-gold skin settled in his mind.
Not much to do. Just observe. So, why assign a Power?
His job was to assess and eliminate any threats. Was she one?
He removed the cell from his pants pocket and scrolled to the messaging app and the single contact.
A tap opened Michael’s message with a name and address.
Nia Deveraux.
Keep her safe.
Same female?
While he owed Michael a lot, the first job for Chamuel took precedence. If she were a threat, he would notify the Supreme Seraph.
And eliminate her.
Lore leaped down into the alley and headed off in search of the female who could be a hazard to his angelic world.
She should have known tonight’s dinner would suck worse than usual. Not only was she burning from the inside out, but she was stuck in this stifling mausoleum because she owed her grandmother. And her demon stalker was still out there somewhere!
Biting back a weary sigh, Nia Deveraux pushed the two tiny pieces of eggs around on her plate.
Soft voices and clinking cutlery filled the elegant dining room, currently adorned with tall conical floral arrangements in red and white, with tiny glittering baubles. Smaller versions of them graced the white damask tablecloth of the sixteen-seater table.
The scar on her left palm itched, and she rubbed her hand on her thigh as she cast a quick glance over the guests. Thank God, there were no red eyes among them.
If she saw another demon again after Kas, her one-time date-turned-stalker, she would probably stake him with her butter knife!
“It’s a lovely dinner, no,chère?” a heavily accented voice rasped.
Nia looked up, and Leo Boucher’s beady brown eyes locked with hers across the table.
It barely started!But she choked back the words, kept her tone civil. “Yes, it is.”
Whydid this sycophant have to be seated opposite her when she’d avoided him during the pre-dinner drinks?
He licked his thick lips, a smarmy smile creasing his jowled face.
Ugh! Revolting man!
If he kept that up, she would smash heramuse-boucheon his oiled-back hair and forget she was supposed to be on her best behavior tonight. It also meant she had to lock down her runaway mouth, or she would pay by having to hear Nan’s never-ending litany of being a thankless child.
Frustrated to her eyeballs at the endless evening ahead, Nia shoved a tiny half of food into her mouth and nearly gagged at the god-awful taste of the deviled quail’s eggs. She grabbed her crystal and gulped down some water then looked up to find the ass still watching her.
He slowly licked his spoon free of the mushy eggs.
God, why me?
