The five of us were having our own main character moments. My nails were freshly polished, curls blown outand bouncy, blouse silky, high-rise pants hugged me tightly at my middle, making my ass look every bit as great as my waist. We were an array of celebrities, Xuân with the shock of green hair, Priscilla as a vision in all black, Nia ready to take the podium at the chicest TED Talk, and Kirby, an equal-opportunity lover, prepared to sweep anyone off their feet who so much as looked in their direction. We should have breezed through security on our voyage to New York, turning heads, making bystanders fall in love with us as they crossed our paths. Instead, some white man wearing a Rolex had already ruined our moment by holding up the line.
“Relax,” Silas said, hand grazing my shoulder.
“You relax,” I replied, arms crossed tightly.
“I’m curious,” came the deep, angelic voice over the pedestrian din of security, beeping, luggage, and crowds. “Did anyone try to teach you to meditate so that you could communicate without looking like a madwoman, or do you prefer to have your mouth forcibly shut?”
My cheeks heated painfully. I winced away from my litter of friends, hoping they couldn’t see the shade of what must have been violet that painted my face and chest. Lips parted in speechless rebuttal, I stumbled forward numbly, too tongue-tied to do anything more than wait for the others to get through security.
Silas wore his cocky smirk like a badge. “It worked, didn’t it?”
“You’re a problem.”
“Ah”—he grinned—“but I’m your problem now.”
Azrames stayed with the others until the last of us filtered through security, the lot of us passed from one nanny to the other in an endlessly insulting cycle of daycare. My head understood that, just as the president traveled with the Secret Service and Jason Momoa famously had a collection of security guards half his size, anyone with any form of target on their forehead needed backup. We were lucky that our backup was unspeakably powerful on both ends of the Heaven-and-Hellspectrum, even if it would take some getting used to.
The remaining evening, night, and following morning at the church had gone exactly as predicted, with a few more roasting insults and ill-fated plans tossed around than I might have liked.
It had been a pleasure to learn that Priscilla and Xuân were easy to be around, even if Xuân had to field calls from her baby daddy six times an hour, and Priscilla was nearly as famous as I was, in her own right. Calls, texts, and occultist fans from her YouTube channel had stopped her in the airport twice. Still, we got along well, which was every bit as much about understanding when to be quiet and leave each other alone for introverted recharge time as it was about jokes and chatter.
“Why aren’t you telling Pris to keep a low profile, too?” I hissed at Silas.
“Because she’s not chomping at the bit to make a fool of herself,” he said.
I wasn’t sure how to kill an angel, but once I figured it out, he’d be the first to know.
We’d almost made it to our gate when a man dropped his bag at his feet and cried out. I took a half step back in shock, instantly flanked by a borderline feral angel and a demon in the time it took for the man to drop to his knees, unzip his bag, and procureA Night of Runes—the first book in the Pantheon series. He lifted the novel and a pen like a peasant of yore begging before a king.
Humiliated that I’d overreacted, I joined him on the floor. The fan and I exchanged high-energy pleasantries while I signed his book, silently adding a tally in the competition that Priscilla didn’t realize she’d entered with me. If one more fan spotted me, I’d pull ahead and win the unspoken game.
The man grunted as he worked his way to his feet, and I wondered if it looked to onlookers like I levitated as supernatural forces helped lift me to my toes. Perhaps I’d be able to foster rumors that I’d developed a few neat abilities. Thewoman, the myth, the…apocalypse.
Silas postured a little too protectively in front of me as we waited by our gate.
“Would you leave me alone?” I hissed, trying to keep my voice low.
His puff of air was nearly a laugh. He managed to look flawless even in the horribly unflattering airport light. Cheap blue carpet, bright screens, piles of exhausted travelers, and ringing overhead announcers couldn’t drown out our standoff. “Hush, hush. It’s my turn to talk.”
I mimicked a trout, opening my mouth and closing it. Nia and Kirby were preoccupied with their new friends, too busy to notice how I was being harassed.
“Atta girl.” He winked when I’d quieted. “Now, how do I abuse this power…?”
I tried to kick him.
He clicked his tongue. “Let’s see. If you can’t speak, then it seems like a perfectly good time to tell you that you make truly insane choices. Arguably the most unhinged decisions in the history of mankind—or angel kind, for that matter.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Hmm, what else do I have?” He relaxed against a pillar, enjoying himself entirely too much. “Your boundaries need work. Who’s going to teach you the difference between being a sub and being a pawn? Domination is one thing, Marlow, but if you’re getting fucked in the ass by every realm’s agenda—”
I succeeded in stamping my foot into his toes, but it did little more than draw disapproving glares from the middle-aged passengers waiting to board the last flight to New York. He was thoroughly unmoved.
“Let’s see… You have terrible taste in lovers—Caliban aside, your dating history is garbage.” Every new, snarling curl of my lip seemed to embolden him. “You’re too quick to trust. Obviously, I’m glad you kept my poppet, but objectively, it was a bad call. You shared your plans with the Phoenicians. You let in gods from all over the world. You spilled everythingto two witches you don’t know from Adam. Someone needs to work on your naivety.”
“Silas!”
“And one more thing,” he said, smile faltering slightly. I studied his stupid, handsome face. The crown-like eyes, the glittering sword, the warrior’s attire and its ridiculous misplacement in an entirely metropolitan setting were all obscene. Maybe now that he’d defected from Heaven, I’d be able to talk him into changing into normal clothes. At least, I’d put it on the top of my list if I didn’t kill him first.
