Page 22 of Fated Angel

“Let me get this straight,” Colt begins, his jaw set in a grim line. “You want us, an angel and a demon who have been killing cult members all through the middle east, to go bid on a man being auctioned off by said cult members?”

“Colt,” Gabby says, pressing her shoulder into his gently. “This may be our only chance, there’ll be a way to make it work. I know it.”

Colt looks at her, concern flitting through him as Gabby’s gaze drifts away and her fingers twist around the strap of her bag.

“They’ll recognize us, Gabby. The auction will never take place if they see us there. It will cause an uproar,” Colt explains, but Gabby is still staring off into space.

“That’s where I come in,” Kenna says, rifling through her own bag and pulling out two vials. “Before I left Mercy City, I had our witches brew up a concoction. These auctions are known for having people hiding their identities, so it won't be so unusual when you two show up looking like you’re wearing a vampire’s poorly devised disguise.”

She hands Colt the vials and he rolls them in his hands curiously. “How do they work?” he asks, glancing over to Gabby as she seems to be speaking to someone who's not here. Kenna notices as well, but says nothing.

“These were made for vampires to be able to disguise who and what they are for twenty-four hours. It’s a new design to hide them from vampire hunters.” She smirks. “It doesn’t work, we can still tell. The point is, it will make you two look like you’re trying to hide your vampirism and not, you know, your angel and demon selves.”

“So that’s it? We drink these, go to the auction and bid on your man in hopes he comes with the shard?” Colt asks, his voice conveying how crazy this all seems.

“It will work,” Gabby says suddenly, pulling back into the present and smiling wide.

“How…” Colt begins, but the way Gabby is clutching her bag now tells Colt everything he needs to know. The distant look, the way her lips moved as she had that internal discussion. She’s communicating with the dark power of the obsidian.

It’s whether she’s winning that’s unknown.

“We’re so close, Colt. It’s almost over. We get this prisoner, we get the shard, and we head back to Mercy City,” Gabby exclaims.

“Hopefully before the crew Vlad’s summoning arrives?” Kenna asks, and they both turn to look at her. “That's why I’m here for my prisoner. Marlowe says we’ll need him to face whatever this is ahead of us. He says if we’re going to defeat the cult we can’t do it without him. We have to hurry.”

“Why does saving the world always come with a time crunch?” Colt grouses, and Gabby leans on his shoulder affectionately.

“To make history more exciting,” she chirps. “Think of how far we've come, how much we accomplished. I could have never done any of it without you…”

“You could,” Colt tells Gabby, wrapping his arms around her. “But you’ll never have to go it alone as long as I breathe.”

Kenna rolls her eyes. “You two are so sweet it’s going to give me a toothache. Are you ready to start prep? You two need to change your clothes into something less…you… I’ll go buy disguises while you two get some rest.” She slides out of the little sleeping nook, leaving the pair alone again.

Colt pulls Gabby into his arms and lays down with her in the cramped nook. He curls his body around hers protectively and twists a blonde curl around his finger.

“We’re almost done, Colt. It’s almost over…” Gabby yawns.

“One more night, one more shard, and we can restore the obsidian and power the Spear of Destiny,” Colt whispers into her hair.

“Then the Grigori will know defeat.”

Gabby sighs and falls into a deep sleep. Colt knows he needs to do the same. The final fight is coming.

And the hard edge in Gabby’s voice, one he’s never heard before, tells him it will be a battle of body, heart and soul.

9

Gabby

Gabby tugs at the scarf across her face, pulling it further up the bridge of her nose as she and Colt navigate the streets of the bazaar. The subterranean market is a labyrinth of winding alleys, flickering torches, and an eclectic blend of supernatural beings from various corners of the world. Beside her, Colt’s swathed in the same disguise—flowing robes that cover his body, a headscarf that shows nothing but his eyes.

When he first put it on, she lamented being unable to appreciate his honed physique. But then she saw his dark eyes framed by black material and her heart stuttered. They were a hundred times more mesmerizing. It reminded her of the first time she saw him outside the gates of Mercy Academy. She’d been determined to be angry. To hate him. She sensed they were different.

Yet one look from those eyes, and her entire axis of gravity shifted.

She had a new sun to orbit.

A dark, sexy one.