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By L. A. Weatherly

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We’ll both get used to it. And you’re still gorgeous; you know that, right? ” I let out a breath, relieved he hadn’t stopped thinking that. Maybe it was petty, with everything else that was happening in the world – but so much had changed already, without changing how Alex viewed me, too. I wanted that to stay the same, for ever. “Thanks,” I said. He propped his chin on top of my head, looking amused. “Well, it’s sort of a no-brainer. ” I laughed. “Let’s not test that one, okay? ” I rested back against his chest, taking in his tousled dark hair and blue-grey eyes in the mirror.

The truck driver went back to the endless subject of his girlfriend, outlining her many failings and the ways in which she was going to have to improve. A few more flashes of the woman being bullied came to Seb as he droned on, so that by the time they reached Seb’s destination and pulled over to the side of the road, he could have happily choked the guy. Instead, he filched the pack of cigarettes and lighter from the trucker’s jacket pocket as they shook hands. He hadn’t picked a pocket since he was a kid on the Mexico City streets, but it gave him a certain satisfaction – though really, he should let the cabrón keep smoking, since it was bad for your health.

Project Angel had been the covert CIA department Alex had worked for; after it had been taken over by the angels, Sophie and Nate had been its only two agents left. Now Nate – a renegade angel who’d tried to help humanity – was dead, and though I assumed Sophie was still alive, I had no idea where. She’d left me at the Church of Angels cathedral with no way to contact her, believing I was going to die just like Nate. And yeah, maybe I’d agreed to that plan, but it was still kind of hard for me to like Sophie after that.

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