Wanted Angel - Sadie Moss Page 0,49

now, even though I’ve spoken with Anderson dozens of times.

But that still doesn’t answer the question—why? Why would he be carrying Salinas’s mark?

My first thought is that maybe the man I just spoke to was Salinas or another one of his minions in disguise. But Salinas is dead, isn’t he? And I don’t know of anyone who’s able to do that. Demons and angels are such opposites, we couldn’t imitate one another’s composition like that.

So that means it probably was really Anderson. And that means…

Is Anderson in league with demons? With Salinas?

The mark isn’t exactly the same as mine, but it wouldn’t be, would it? My mark was meant to draw people to kill me, and this mark must be for some other purpose. Some kind of binding mark, maybe? Like a contract?

I try to think back through all of my interactions with Anderson. I can’t think of anything that seemed like a warning sign to me, anything that I should’ve latched onto. He was dismissive of the demon portals, but that honestly didn’t surprise me too much. It disappointed me, sure—but it fit with what I know of the angelic committees and heavenly bureaucracy.

But… I never spoke to any other angels about my assignment. I didn’t go to the support group and tell them because I was worried they’d be angry I got a chance to go home and they didn’t. And I didn’t talk to any angels from Upstairs because I had no way to reach them and none of them reached out to me.

So what proof do I have that the committee was ever actually considering my case? That I was ever truly eligible to come home? That this assignment was anything other than bullshit?

Anderson could’ve made the entire thing up to get me to lure the sins in and destroy them.

I’m not sure exactly how destroying the sins ties into Salinas’s plan, but Anderson was probably right about everything he just said. That he realized I have a soft spot for people, that I would be willing to bend the rules, that I’m weak, at least according to his worldview. That I’d be able to get through to the sins precisely because I’m not like other angels.

My stomach churns painfully.

Dammit, I feel so naïve and stupid. Maybe it’s not fair of me to be so hard on myself since I had no way of knowing it all was a lie, but that doesn’t change the result of things.

It doesn’t change what I did, unwittingly or not.

Tears burn my eyes, and I give in to my grief for a second, letting the full weight of the loss settle over me. Over the past couple weeks, I started to realize the true depth of my feelings for the seven brothers who became such a huge part of my life in such a short time.

I never worked up the guts to say it out loud, but I knew it in my heart.

I loved them.

Not because of or in spite of their sins.

Because of them. Because of who they were as people—the beautiful parts and the complex parts.

I loved them.

And I killed them.

Drawing in a shuddering breath, I wipe the backs of my hands over my eyes, brushing away my tears. Hot anger burns in my stomach, expanding outward to fill the rest of me. I focus on the anger, because it helps burn away some of the pain, making it easier to function.

Anderson said something about having a new “assignment” for me. He probably thinks he can still manipulate me, that I have no idea what’s going on.

Are there other angels on his side? Or is he the only one?

I have no doubt that whatever my new assignment is, it’ll be something to help Anderson and Salinas continue to try to conquer Earth. My angel light was stronger than it’s ever been, but it probably couldn’t have killed a demon as powerful as Salinas. There’s a good chance he’s still alive, and even if he really is dead, Anderson will probably continue with the attempt on his own.

Well, there’s no way I’m helping either of them do that. I have to find some way out of here.

Part of me wants to run from the room, grab the first angel I see, and tell them everything. But the truth is, I don’t know how deep this goes. I don’t know if there are other angels who are in on this, and I can’t take the risk of one of them