Page 50

I came to stand beside her, and she leaned against my arm.

At dinner we'd spent nearly two hours talking about ordinary things. She'd told me about the historical novels she loved and the disastrous family vacation during which she'd been expected to enjoy a sailing excursion despite being violently seasick. I'd told her about Leo's habit of keeping an emergency supply of terrible music on every road trip and how much I enjoyed finding places in Witch Harbor where nobody bothered me about my appearance.

For once, I'd had an evening with Everly that didn't involve conference-room schedules, deception, or explanations about why I'd been expelled from Heaven.

I intended to have a great many more.

She turned toward me and ran her fingertips along the tattoo on my forearm.

"All right. You promised me wings."

"I did."

"And this time I intend to ask a great many questions."

"I've noticed you're particularly good at that."

She smiled. "I manage complicated people for a living. You're simply a little more complicated than most."

I kissed her forehead, then stepped into the open space between the sofa and the windows. There was plenty of room to extend my wings without disturbing the furniture, provided I kept clear of the worktable.

I pulled my T-shirt over my head and laid it across the sofa arm.

Everly's attention followed the movement, lingering over my chest.

"You're enjoying this," she accused.

"Immensely. You make a very appreciative audience."

"I meant showing off, and you haven't even brought out your wings yet."

"So did I."

Her laughter followed me as I turned slightly and allowed the celestial markings to appear. They emerged beneath my skin, intricate dark patterns extending across my chest and ribs. The familiar pull settled between my shoulder blades as I released the concealment I'd maintained since leaving her apartment.

My wings unfolded behind me, their heavy black feathers spreading outward until they occupied much of the open room. I lifted them carefully, feeling the air move along their length, then lowered them into a comfortable position.

Everly approached slowly.

She'd seen them at the Grand, when she'd believed they were part of an extraordinary costume. She'd touched them here on Monday, when the revelation had left her struggling to understand what I was.

Tonight, she looked delighted.

"Good heavens," she murmured.

I laughed. "You really ought to find another expression."

"I'm afraid you're going to have to get used to that one."

She moved around me to examine where the feathers emerged from my back. I turned enough to keep her in view, careful not to crowd her with the nearest wing.

"Does it hurt when you bring them out?" she asked.

"No. They're part of me. Concealing them is more uncomfortable if I have to do it for long stretches."

"Then why do you keep them hidden here?"

"Mostly habit. And because I occasionally have visitors who'd prefer not to discover they're sharing a room with a fallen angel."