Page 83 of Guardian Angel
“But youdidhurt me. And a part of me really hates you right now. Please just go. Have your talk with your brothers. I need some space.”
He opened his mouth—probably to argue—but then closed it again and nodded. I watched him go, watched the door close, and then I collapsed onto the couch and let my head drop into my hands.
I wished my words were true, but they weren’t. It would be easier if I could hate him, but I couldn’t. I was hurt, but I still loved him. I wasn’t sure how I’d trust him again after today, but my feelings for him hadn’t changed.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I frowned at the screen, not recognizing the number calling.
“Hello?”
I couldn’t place the voice that answered. “Sierra. I need you to listen very carefully.”
Twenty-Five
Nathaniel
“You better havethe news of the fucking century,” I told Samuel as I closed the door to the apartment he and Joriel were staying in.
“Actually, I do.” Samuel’s lips lifted in a smirk, but there was something off about it. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he looked afraid.
“Talk.” I wanted this conversation to be over. I could barely focus on one thought at a time, my head spinning out of control. It was all too much. Sierra’s pain had been bad enough to drop me to my knees, almost as bad as when the bond first snapped into place between us.
I still couldn’t believe Joriel had told her about the Nephilim law while I wasn’t there. He should have trusted that I had a reason for not just blurting it out—I knew that information would destroy her. That’s exactly how she’d looked when I got to her in the parking lot. Destroyed. Her pain eclipsed every other feeling and emotion I had. It was hard to think around it.
“Fair warning, you’re not going to like it.”
I glared at Samuel. I itched to punch something, to get my frustration out, and he wasn’t helping.
“You’re wasting my time.”
“Right now Dantalion is under the protection of Lucifer. Any attack on him is seen as an act of war against Hell. There’s only one loophole that will allow you, or any angel, to attack without waiting for him to initiate. Get permission from Lucifer. He withdraws his protection, and an attack is no longer an act of war.”
“So you’re saying I have to go into Hell and ask the Prince of Darkness himself for permission to kill one of his dukes? I have a better chance of winning an unfair fight with Dantalion.”
“Possibly.” Samuel nodded.
“In other words, there is no loophole.”
“No, the loophole still exists, it’s just not a good option. It’s a last resort.”
“Got it. Anything else you’ve deemed worth dragging me into this meeting for?” I was already half-turned back toward the door.
“Did Alana ever introduce you to Carter Mandala?”
“What?”
Samuel leaned back against the dining table that appeared to be serving as his desk, judging by the open laptop and papers scattered around its surface. “Carter Mandala. Lived in Manchester until he disappeared without a trace ten years ago. He should be in his early thirties by now but would have been in his early twenties when Alana knew him.”
Alana had lived in Manchester up until her death. She’d had friends she’d introduced me to, but fuck if I remembered anyone’s name.
“I wouldn’t remember if she did,” I told Samuel.
His brows rose. “I bet you would. She dated him for about a year.”
Images flashed through my memory—a pool hall, an Indian kid wrapping his arms around my baby sister, his lips on hers. She’d told me his name, but I hadn’t heard it. I’d been too busy imagining killing the human who thought he was worthy of touching her.
“Remember now?” Samuel smirked at me. “Carter is a half-demon. His father is Astaroth, one of the grand princes of Hell. Alana’s job was to keep an eye on him, but her decision to date him was all her.”
“Herjob?”