Dark Kings (Feathers and Fate #1) - Sadie Moss Page 0,20

bloodstains that immediately decorate the white fabric. I’ll get a new couch tomorrow.

What did she say her name was?

Oh, right. Olivia fucking Pope.

She’s still out cold, and she looks worse than she did in the alley, the gaping wounds in her flesh more obvious now. I want her to wake up, if only so I can tell her what a ridiculous fucking fake name she picked.

I shouldn’t have brought her back here. I can practically hear my brothers admonishing me in my head. You took in an angel? Like some kind of stray kitten off the street? What kind of fucking moron are you?

Deciding not to answer that question, even in my own damn head, I rise smoothly and stride into my office. I have several safes hidden around the apartment, and I don’t just keep money in them. There are things much more valuable than that.

After opening the safe near my desk, I pull out a small green vial that fits easily in my palm. It cost me an arm and a leg to get this from the witch I knew. Witches don’t give up their potions easily, and most of them don’t take cash as payment.

My fist closes around the vial, and I grit my teeth. It goes against everything inside me to give up something I worked so hard for. Something that’s mine. But I’m greedy for answers too, and the only way I’m getting those is if the angel lives. If she wakes up.

Decision made, I head back into the living room, ignoring the strange twinge in my chest as I take in the girl’s limp form. I kneel down beside her and gently prop her up, cradling the back of her head in my palm. She’s warm. Warmer than humans. Her angelic blood, probably, rushing through her veins as it tries to heal her.

Nearly all supernaturals have heightened healing abilities. We heal faster than humans, but we’re by no means invulnerable. Her blood’s magic won’t be enough to save her—not without intervention.

Quickly, I pop the small cork from the vial and pour the healing potion into her mouth then tilt her head back, making sure she swallows it.

The effect is almost instantaneous. Her back arches as she sucks in a large gasp of air, and a strange glow emanates from her wounds as they draw closed, the dark flesh knitting itself back together. The ashen color leaves her cheeks, and her eyelids flutter.

Then, slowly, she blinks up at me.

“Wh-where am I?”

She sounds like she’s frightened but trying to hide it. I can admire that. Fear itself isn’t a weakness, but letting it rule you is.

“My apartment.”

Her eyes widen, a little more clarity returning to her brown irises. “I can’t be here! I have to—”

She tries to sit up, but I push her back down with a hand on her shoulder. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. No you don’t, little angel.”

She bats my hand away. “I’m not little.”

“Compared to me you are.” There’s a good foot of height difference between us. At least. “You’re going to stay here. And you’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on.” I stand up. “Do you want anything?”

“No.” She cranes her neck to stare up at me, her eyes large in her heart-shaped face. She’s fucking gorgeous, even covered in blood and grime from her fight. “No, thank you.”

“Liar. Of course you do. Everyone wants something.”

It’s my job to find out what it is. Then make them go after it. After more and more and more of it. Too much of it.

Her eyes narrow, and she ignores my earlier command, sitting up and pivoting on her shapely ass to drop her feet to the floor. Her business suit is shredded, in much worse shape than my own is, and the large gashes in the fabric reveal tantalizing glimpses of mocha skin.

“I get it.” She scowls at me. “You’re Greed. You always want something, so you assume everyone else does too.”

It doesn’t escape my notice that she cleverly dodged my question, but instead of forcing the issue, I cock my head at her. “What’s your name, angel? And if you say Olivia Pope again, I’ll throw you out the window, and you better hope your damn wings are healed enough to fly.”

She has the grace to look a little sheepish at that, and she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth before she answers. That small action makes my cock twitch. There’s something open and vulnerable about this woman—this angel—that