“Eclipse is out what? A grand at this point?” Piceous rumbled, his tone relaxed, hooded eyes following the action. “He does know he’s being hustled, right?”
Oh, he knew. And if Obsidian had to guess, Eclipse had a plan to hustle the hustler.
“Can’t blame ’em for wanting a night off,” Shadow drawled, sipping from his third glass of Glenlivet.
“You’re right about that,” Obsidian agreed, taking a deep breath and watching the males strut and grunt.
It had taken four months, but they’d finally cleared out the demon nest that had taken up residence in New York City. Not an easy feat, mind you. Working under the cover of darkness in the city that never slept required strategy to eradicate more than three hundred demons, but they’d pulled it off, ridding the metropolis of the evil that lurked in the shadows.
Part of it, anyway. As for the malevolent humans that resided there … well, that wasn’t their responsibility, thank God.
Obsidian was equipped to deal with a wealth of shit, but the humans’ behavioral problems were their own. The warriors had their hands full. As it was, it would only be a matter of time before more demons would return, a new group sauntering in and attempting to take over. The demons did their thing, which allowed the warriors to do theirs.
“So where’re we headed next?” Cimmerian flopped down on the black leather recliner, long legs dangling over the side. He tipped his head back, regarded Obsidian. “Tucson? Dallas? Maybe we could head down to Miami. It’s been a while since we’ve had any Cuban action.”
Before Obsidian could respond, the lights flickered, dimmed, the surge of electricity coming from the lights and lamps throughout.
In the true manner of warriors, the seven of them were on their feet, armed and ready to take on the threat. Big or small, didn’t matter. They were always ready.
Of course, Zeus and Aphrodite weren’t going to be left out. The German shepherds were positioned within the group, snarling softly as they anticipated the threat to their home.
“Relax, warriors,” the disembodied voice echoed through the mansion.
“Well, fuck me running,” Eclipse muttered, relaxing his stance with a heavy sigh and tucking his deadly half-moon blades away.
“Sounds like a challenge,” Michael said, taking form in the center of the room, the feathers of his wings rustling as they settled at his back. “One for another day, perhaps.”
Still locked in a fighting stance, Obsidian kept his eyes on the archangel gracing them with his presence. It was rare for the male to make an appearance, and when he did, it was never good.
In true Michael fashion, he didn’t get right down to business. Instead, he ambled around the space, picking up the eight ball from the table, studying it momentarily. He set it back down, moved on. His steady gaze scanned the entire space, taking it in before returning to them.
“To what do we owe the honor?” Shadow queried, more than a hint of disdain dripping from his words.
“Want to commend us on a job well done?” Cimmerian taunted. “Not necessary. We patted ourselves on the back already.”
Michael picked up Aphotic’s glass of cinnamon whiskey, sniffed, grimaced, clearly ignoring their rumblings.
“I come with a message,” he finally said, setting the glass down before turning his attention to them. “Please, sit.”
“We’ll stand,” Obsidian told him.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Michael squatted down on his haunches, motioned the dogs to him.
Zeus and Aphrodite went happily, tails wagging as they cuddled up to the archangel.
“At least someone’s happy to see me,” he muttered softly, gave them each a generous rub before standing tall and crossing his beefy arms over his armor-clad chest.
Mirroring his position, Obsidian honed his patience. The male wasn’t the sort to jump to the point when he could drag shit out.
“I heard about the stint in New York.” Michael’s dark eyebrows rose. “Impressive. Though not exactly timely.”
They’d long ago stopped waiting for Michael to bestow any sort of praise, so the seven of them remained silent, staring intently at their visitor. Though armed to the teeth, they’d all tucked their weapons away, out of sight but never out of reach.
Michael sighed heavily, smirked. “You boys should relax more. The sticks up your asses aren’t becoming.”
Since the archangel didn’t take well to commands, Obsidian kept his lips shut, though he was quickly growing tired of the male’s presence.
“And here I thought I’d injected a sense of humor when creating you. My bad.” Michael dropped his arms to his sides, paced in front of the pool table.
