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“What are you?”

“A fallen angel.”

I stared at him. “You mean an actual angel? From Heaven?”

“Yes. Fallen being the important part.”

That answer should have sounded theatrical. From a man with black wings and markings that had appeared before my eyes, it sounded horribly plausible.

Cillian folded the wings until they rested behind him, and the room suddenly felt larger. I stayed on the sofa, looking at the man who'd asked me for coffee, respected my refusal, and helped keep Harbor & Main's systems secure. All the while he'd been something I hadn't known existed.

“I thought I was enjoying a Halloween fantasy,” I said. “You were standing there with real wings, letting me guess how they'd been made.”

“You were enjoying yourself,” he said. “And I was having a hell of a time with you. I should've told you the truth.”

That he could say the first part with such obvious pleasure while admitting the second was making it difficult to decide whether to kiss him or throw my handbag at him. I was leaning toward the handbag.

“Why were you there?” I asked. “At the masquerade.”

“I go every year. People assume the wings are a costume. It's one night I can be seen with them without needing to explain myself.”

“And this year you happened to see me.”

“I hadn't known you'd be there.”

I remembered Taryn's last-minute invitations. “You didn't arrange for me to come?”

“No. You walked up to me on your own, and I was happier about it than I had any right to be.”

I knew the tickets had become available at the last minute, and Taryn had invited me privately at work. That part made sense. But another question was harder to say aloud.

“Why did you want me so badly?”

Cillian held my gaze.

“That's something I owe you an answer to.”

“Then answer it.”

He hesitated for the first time since I'd walked into the loft. One black wing shifted behind him, its feathers brushing together with a soft rustle.

“I knew of you long before you and I met, Everly,” he said. “Before I ever came to the mortal world.”

Chapter Four

The old sash windows rattled as the November wind came off the harbor. I usually liked the noise. Tonight, the loft had gone so quiet that I could hear Everly breathing from the other end of the room.

She sat near the edge of the leather sofa, her handbag beside her. I'd left my shirt draped over its back, and my celestial markings were still visible across my chest. The long black feathers behind my shoulders shifted when I moved. A few minutes ago, she'd approached me to touch them. Now she seemed reluctant to come any closer.

“Were you watching me?” she asked. “Is that what you meant when you said you knew about me?”

I'd expected her to be angry. I hadn't expected her to look at me as though she no longer knew how much of her life was hers to keep private.

“I saw you from Heaven, long before Switchline brought me to Harbor & Main. You were living your own life, and I became fascinated with you. I wanted to meet you, but wanting something didn't give me permission to take it.”

Beyond the windows, a fishing boat moved through the dark harbor, its deck lights reflecting against the water. Everly followed it for a moment before looking back at me.

“Then how did you get here? And why were you thrown out of Heaven?”