to articulate the thousands of thoughts running unintended in my head like a class of preschoolers.
My demons freeze as well as they process his words.
“The Raphael?” I ask dumbly, and I swear his left eye twitches.
“That would be my father you’re referring to. Or maybe one of my brothers. History has a way of grouping us all together.”
Slowly, he grabs a handkerchief from his pocket and begins to dab at the couch, where Akor’s shoes have left behind a muddy footprint. The crease between his eyes becomes more prominent with every passing second when the footprint doesn’t just easily disappear.
Weakness—clean freak. Noted. If he touches me, maybe I can spit on him.
“I’m Diniel,” the archer introduces, and I turn to see a muscular, Asian man with golden brown skin, almond-colored eyes, and a single scar running down the length of his right cheek. Which means… Which means he must’ve been around his Center at one point. And more than likely killed her. “That asshole over there is Gage.”
“Gagiel, not Gage,” the man the archer points to—the one with two daggers—corrects in a scathing tone, alternating his glares between me, my demons, and his own team. “And I don’t know what the fuck we’re doing. I say we kill them and leave.”
“You know we can’t do that,” Raphael snaps, voice terse, and Gagiel huffs in irritation, his scowl deepening.
I don’t know about anyone else in the room, but all of a sudden, Raphael is my favorite angel.
“I’m Zakum,” the final man interjects softly, lowering his eyes. He’s the tallest of them all, with pitch-black hair. Even slumped against the side wall near the door, he could give Kastros a run for his money in the height department, but unlike my vengeance demon, this man has sinewy, slender muscles. “But you may call me Zak.”
“So we’re on a first name basis with the demons now, are we?” Gage snarks, pure vitriol spewing from his eyes.
“Shut it, Gagiel,” Raphael says tiredly.
“And you already know my name, snookums,” Nakir says to me with a wink, ignoring the daggers hurled at him from my men’s eyes, perhaps even enjoying them. I wonder if his skin is as indestructible as the metal it looks like. I hope so, for his sake.
“So what are you going to do to us?” I ask with a bravado I don’t feel. Because to be honest, I’m terrified. Like, piss my pants and then curl into a corner to cry, type of terrified.
“We’re not going to kill you, if that’s what you’re thinking, Miss…” Raphael lifts a brow at me, waiting, but I stubbornly remain silent. Names hold power, and I’m not going to give him anymore over me if I can help it. He nods as if he understands, as if he even respects that. “Very well.”
“My men,” I say around the proverbial hands squeezing my throat. “What are you going to do with them?”
“Why, let them go, of course,” Raphael says, giving up on removing the stain from the couch and straightening.
“Let them go?” I repeat dubiously. My eyes instinctively flit to Raz, whose mouth is agape in shock.
“Why would you do that?” he asks hoarsely, struggling to pull himself into a sitting position. When it fails, he flops back onto the ground with a growl.
“How do you know he’s telling the truth?” I pipe in anxiously. Because isn’t that Super Villain 101? Make us think they’re letting us go, but then gouge out our eyeballs and feed them to their pet snakes that they keep in the basement to feast on decayed corpses.
Yeah, I watch too many horror movies with Zolroth.
“Angels can’t lie,” Van grits out.
“It’s what makes us the superior species,” Raphael throws in casually, brushing imaginary lint off his shoulder. Ugh. He’s so annoyingly smug, I can see why my guys hate angels. I kind of want to rip that stick from his ass and then shove it through his skull.
“But we know the truth about you guys,” Nakir adds, leaning forward to sniff my hair. I shy away from him, and his grin merely widens. “You’re their Center.”
“I-I don’t know what you mean,” I protest weakly.
“You know exactly what I mean,” he counters with a pointed look.
“And I suppose since we know your secret, it’s only fair that you know ours.” Raphael begins to fidget with his cufflink in earnest, violet eyes flicking from face to face. “We’re here for a specific reason, and we have no intention of leaving anytime soon—”