Page 160 of The Phoenix
Very well, Michael.
“I am summoned. Wait here.” Ohngel tugged up his pants while he barked the order at Indy.
“Sure thing, cowboy. ‘Cause that’s my style.”
He eyed her warily. “Indy, this male is important. If the worst happens, know one truth. I shall remember you until the night of time.”
“Hmm. Sounds like a goodbye. Why do you expect the worst?”
“Because I was supposed to sleep for a millennium. I’m awake.”
“I have to explain something.”
For centuries, Ohngel’s work with the Cambion took him to Earth for brief periods. Even while he played Roark, he kept up his assassin’s job. Now he was ready to quit. Being conscious when he should sleep was a problem. Staying with Indigo—and that was the plan—was a problem. His strategy required permission and a fucking huge amount of luck. Of course, he may also need to answer to the OneCreator for meddling in Earthly affairs since obviously his penance had been cut short. Yeah. He might be fucked.
“I don’t know what you did, Indy, to awaken me, but…”
“I solved the puzzle.”
He shook his head, unable to figure out what she was trying to say. “I have a case to plead, but if I fail … just stay here. My fate awaits me.”
“When have I ever done what you say? Let’s face this shit together. As someone I love once said, ‘Where you go I shall follow.’”
“What an idiot.”
“My idiot, though.” Standing toe to toe, she clasped his head and drew him down for a kiss.
Why couldn’t he have fallen for an easy female? Hmm. No challenge. No fun. He knew when he was beaten. “Hang on, my Indy.”
After she locked her hands around his neck, he spread his wings, soaring with his mate clutched tight to his chest. He dipped into a valley, followed a winding river, and rose to climb a snow-capped mountain where he lowered them to the ground. When he set her down, he snapped his fingers to encase her feet in thick boots. While she examined them, he held out a heavy cobalt-blue coat with a fur-lined hood. He thought she would appreciate the vibrant color.
Dressed for the cold, Indigo shielded her eyes from an explosion of light. Before them stood his friend, the white-winged warrior in full battle dress, an unadorned sword in its scabbard on his back. He didn’t look very friendly now. He looked like he was itching to smite Ohngel’s ass.
Where was all the love?
“Who the fuck is bright boy?” Indy draped her arm around his waist.
He was aware she was trying to save him from appearing weak. He took her support, his legs still unsure. Kissing the top of her head, he savored the scent of her shampoo while listening to the rhythm of her wild heart. “He’s Michael, the OneCreator’s Bearer of Death.”
“Is this the skirt causing the big to-do?” asked Michael.
Ohngel angled his head to glance at Indy, figuring she was about to say something stupid. “Now would be a good time to practice temperance, witch.”
“Not my strong suit. I’d rather soak this male’s ass in barbecue sauce and spit roast it.”
Michael grinned. “Is she always so fiery?”
Ohngel nodded. “It’s why I love her.”
Indigo gasped. She inched a straight index finger into the air. “Hold a sec, bright boy.” Twisting toward Ohngel, she asked, “You love me?”
He blinked. Twice. “You’re my mate. Of course I do. You know that.”
“No. No, I don’t. Sometimes you have to be clear about shit like that. I told you I loved you, but you kept your mouth shut.”
“I love you, Indy.” He shoved her behind him. “Ignore her, Michael. Somehow she awakened me from my coma.”
Indy navigated around him. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but don’t even think about pushing me aside, mate.”