“I really don’t care.”
“The most was six million,” he huffed. “Damn thing went viral. And that was Biloxi. Ever consider the hell that’ll rain down on this city when the demons catch wind that you’rehere?” Taayin chuckled. “Get it? Hell? Rain down…” Another laugh.
At least someone found him amusing.
“If I promise not to obliterate the masses, will you take your ass home?”
“Promises are like assholes. Everyone’s got one.” Taayin squinted, frowned. “No, wait. I think that’s opinions. Opinions are like—”
“I get it,” Obsidian snarled.
“Okay fine. Whatever.” Taayin dramatically motioned for Obsidian to precede him. “Your Majesty…”
Obsidian growled low in his throat, a sound that drew the attention of tourists tossing money on tables like it was in endless supply.
Eyes widened, even a few gasps as he continued on. Not unexpected. His size alone tended to intimidate mere mortals, never mind the fact that he was dressed head to toe in black and looked as though he would rip a throat out with the slightest provocation. Lucky for them, they couldn’t see behind the Oakley Radar Ev Paths he sported. The dark sunglasses weren’t a means of amping up the coolness factor. They were a necessity. They both protected his eyes from the bright lights and concealed the iridescent silver glow from the humans.
As for Taayin … well, the angel had a long way to go beforecoolwould be a term used to describe him. Truth was, he was a pussycat who had a penchant for classical music, enjoyed tiramisu more than could be normal, and had his Armani suits tailored to fit his six-foot-two-inch frame.
Taayin flashed white teeth. “Don’t mind him,” he told the humans peering their way. “He can be a bit capricious. Being an angel and all.”
“Fuck off.” Forcing his shoulders to relax, Obsidian strolled deeper into the casino. “If you’re not careful, you’ll be looking for a new job.”
And they both knew the onlyotherjob for his kind was a number clerk in Heaven. As it was, Obsidian didn’t need his help. Being that Obsidian was a warrior angel cast down by an archangel, Taayin’s job aslieterra—translated to assistant—was more irritating than necessary.
Try telling him that, though. He was nothing if not an insistent pain in his ass.
The fact of the matter was, Obsidian could hold his own with the humans. The wide berth he garnered was proof.
Because he was forced to live amongst them, Obsidian did not appear to be a threat to those who caught glimpses of him. Despite the fact he’d surpassed the two millennia mark, the outward facade reflected a strong, healthy male in his late twenties/early thirties, attractive to all genders, though slightly hardened by time. His hairstyle hadn’t changed much over the centuries, though in recent decades, he’d nixed his favored mohawk and simply brushed the thick jet-black strands back on the crown of his head, keeping the sides and back shorn tight to his scalp. Facial hair wasn’t a factor because, aside from the hair on his head, Obsidian was smooth as a baby’s ass, no need to shave whatsoever.
At six foot ten inches, two hundred eighty pounds, he towered over most males. Though he wouldn’t be caught dead in one of those ridiculous suits, Obsidian garnered the respect his demeanor commanded. Provided the human wasn’t intimidated by size, he wouldn’t foster fear unless pushed. At which point, he didn’t mind rousing their antipathy in an effort to send them running. And while they could even interact if they were brazen enough, they would keep their distance. Which was exactly how he liked it.
Throwing out a mental command for the humans to avoid looking at him, Obsidian evanesced his physical form, drifted through time and space to the balcony overlooking the casino floor, and materialized. Taayin appeared beside him, hands cocked on his hips as he scanned the floor below.
Standing at the faux-stone railing, Obsidian leaned down, bracing himself on his forearms as he exhaled heavily, praying like hell the tip they’d received would pan out. Unlike the last two dozen.
“Do you really think she’s here?” Taayin asked.
“No reason to doubt the validity of the lead.” Not until they’d checked it out, anyway.
For the past three centuries, the vampires had been their eyes and ears on the streets, passing along intel in return for backup when needed. From Obsidian’s vantage point, it was beneficial to both species. While the vampires had the numbers, the angels had the powers, and the combination of the two were necessary to keep the humans safe.
While the angel grumbled beside him, Obsidian scanned the floor below, watching the interactions and keeping his eye out for the female he’d spent the past three weeks searching for.
He turned his attention to the crowd, scanning the one hundred twenty-five thousand square feet of money-sucking games and those who succumbed to their vices. Some were angling to beat the house, hoping against hope they’d hit that multimillion-dollar jackpot, while a couple of wannabe card sharks tried their not-so-skilled hand at the tables. Then, of course, there were the working girls strutting through the space, looking for their next buck, dodging the millions of eyes in the sky.
All blending naturally, as though they belonged.
Obsidian figured technically they did. After all, Las Vegas was a playground for all sinners and saints, was it not?
However, he wasn’t here for them.
He was in search of…
A soft growl rumbled in his chest as he stood tall, his eyes seeking the source of the connection he could feel deep in his soul.
“Obsidian?”
