“You know, Angel, he has something that could be useful to us,” Patch added thoughtfully. “Something we might convince him to steal from heaven, if we play this right. I’ve tried to avoid war, but maybe it’s time to fight. Let’s end this. If you beat the fallen angels, your oath will be fulfilled.” His eyes locked on mine. “And we’ll be free. Together. No more war, no more Cheshvan.”
I started to ask what he was thinking, when the obvious answer hit me. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of it before. Yes, Pepper did have access to something that would give us bargaining power over fallen angels—and secure Nephilim faith in me. Then again, did we really want to go down that road? Was it our right to put the entire fallen angel population at grave risk?
“I don’t know, Patch. . . .”
Patch stood and reached for his leather jacket. “Call Pepper. We’re meeting him now.”
The lot behind the gas station was empty. The sky was black, and so were the store’s greasy windows. Patch parked his motorcycle, and we both swung off. A short, pudgy form waddled out of the shadows and, after looking apprehensively around, scurried over to us.
Pepper’s eyes danced self-righteously at the sight of Patch. “Look a little worse for wear, old friend. I think it’s fair to say life on Earth hasn’t been kind.”
Patch ignored the insult. “We know Dante is your blackmailer.”
“Yes, yes, Dante. The dirty pig. Tell me something I don’t know.”
“I want to hear about your job offer.”
Pepper drummed his fingertips together, his shrewd eyes never leaving Patch’s. “I know you and your girlfriend here killed Hank Millar. I need someone ruthless like that.”
“We had help. The archangels,” Patch reminded him.
“I’m an archangel,” Pepper said peevishly. “I want Dante dead, and I’ll give you the tools to do it.”
Patch nodded. “We’ll do it. At the right price.”
Pepper blinked, taken aback. I didn’t think he’d expected to come to an agreement so easily. He cleared his throat. “What did you have in mind?”
Patch glanced at me, and I inclined my head. Time to pull out the proverbial ace up the sleeve. With little time to consider, Patch and I had decided this was one card we couldn’t afford not to play.
“We want access to every fallen angel feather being stored in heaven,” I announced.
The pompous smirk drained from Pepper’s eyes, and he gave a cold bark of laughter. “Are you out of your mind? I can’t give you that. It would take a whole committee to release those feathers. And what are you planning to do? Burn the whole lot of them? You’d send every fallen angel on Earth to hell!”
“Would you really be that disappointed?” I asked him in all seriousness.
“Who cares what I think?” he growled. “There are rules. There are procedures. Only fallen angels who’ve committed a serious crime or breach of humanity are sent to hell.”
“You’re out of options,” Patch stated coldly. “We both know you can get the feathers. You know where they’re stored, and you know the procedure for releasing them. You have everything you need. Devise a plan and carry it out. Either that, or take your chances against Dante.”
“One feather, possibly! But thousands? I’ll never get away with it!” Pepper protested shrilly.
Patch stepped toward him, and Pepper shrank back in fear, his arms flying up to shield his face.
“Look around,” Patch told him in a quiet, lethal voice. “This isn’t a place you want to call home. You’ll be the newest fallen angel, and they’ll make you remember it. You won’t last a week of initiation.”
“I-i-initiation?”
Patch’s black stare sent a shiver up my spine.
“W-w-what do I do?” Pepper wailed softly. “I can’t go through initiation. I can’t live on Earth full-time. I need to be able to go back to heaven when I want.”
“Get the feathers.”
“I can’t d-d-do it.” Pepper hiccuped.
“You don’t have a choice. You’re going to get those feathers, Pepper. And I’m going to kill Dante. Have you thought this plan through?”
A miserable nod. “I’ll bring you a special dagger. It will kill Dante. If the archangels come after you, and you try to give them my name, you’ll cut your own tongue out with the dagger. I’ve enchanted it. The dagger won’t let you betray me.”
“Fair enough.”
“If we go through with this, you can’t contact me. Not while I’m in heaven. All communication goes dark until I finish. If I can finish,” he whimpered wretchedly. “I’ll let you know when I have the feathers.”
“We need them by tomorrow,” I told Pepper.
“Tomorrow?” he fussed. “Do you realize what you’re asking?”
“Monday at midnight at the latest,” Patch said with no room for compromise.
Pepper gave a queasy nod. “I’ll get as many as I can.”
“You need to clear out the inventory,” I told him. “That’s our deal.”
Pepper swallowed. “Every last one of them?”
That was the idea, yes. If Pepper succeeded in getting the feathers, the Nephilim would have a way of winning the war with a single strike of a match. Since we couldn’t chain fallen angels in hell ourselves, we’d let their Achilles’ heels—their former angelic feathers—do it for us. Every fallen angel would be given a choice: release their Nephilim vassal from their oath and swear a new oath of peace, or make a new home for themselves in a place much hotter than Coldwater, Maine.
If our plan worked, it wouldn’t matter if Dante accused me of treason. If I won the war, nothing else would matter to the Nephilim. And despite their lack of faith in me, I
I met Pepper’s gaze, putting steel behind mine. “All of them.”
CHAPTER 31
SCOTT CALLED ME AS SOON AS PATCH AND I WERE BACK at the townhouse. It was now Sunday, just after three in the morning. Patch closed the front door behind us, and I put the phone on speaker.
“We might have a problem,” Scott said. “I’ve gotten a handful of texts from friends saying Dante is making a public announcement to Nephilim later tonight at Delphic, after closing. After what happened tonight, anybody else find this odd?”
Patch swore.
I tried to stay calm, but black tinged the edges of my vision.
“Everyone’s speculating, and the theories are all over the board,” Scott continued. “Any idea what this is about? The prick pretended to be your boyfriend and then
I braced my hand on the wall for support. My head spun and my knees shook. Patch took the phone from me.
“She’ll call you back, Scott. Let us know if you hear anything else.”
I sank into Patch’s sofa. I stuck my head between my knees and drew several rapid breaths. “He’s going to publicly accuse me of treason. Later tonight.”
“Yes,” Patch agreed quietly.
“They’ll lock me in prison. They’ll try to torture a confession out of me.”
Patch knelt in front of me and placed his hands protectively on my hips. “Look at me, Angel.”
My brain automatically switched into action. “We have to contact Pepper. We need the dagger sooner than we thought. We need to kill Dante before he can make his announcement.” A rattled sob escaped my chest. “What if we don’t get the dagger in time?”
Patch drew my head against his chest, gently kneading the muscles at the back of my neck that were
