“What I would do with angel intel, I don’t know. But it can’t hurt to gain a little knowledge.Tell that to Adam and Eve.”

“Penryn? Who are you talking to?” My mother sounds almost frantic now.“Just my own personal demon, Mom. Don’t worry. He’s just a little weakling.”Weak or not, we both know he could have killed me if that’s what he wanted. I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing I was scared, though.“Oh.” She sounds calm suddenly, as if that explained everything. “Okay. Don’t underestimate them. And don’t make them promises you can’t keep.” I can tell by her fading voice as she says this that she’s reassured and walking away.The baffled look the angel shoots at the door makes me chuckle. He glances my way, giving me a you’re-weirder-than-your-mom look.”

“Hey, I don’t call the shots,” he says. “If I was good at marketing, I’d spin you an empty story that sounds profound. But the truth is that we’re all just stumbling around in the dark. Sometimes we hit something terrible.”“That’s it? It can’t be as random as that.” I don’t know what I want to hear, but that’s not it.“It’s always as random as that.”He sounds more like a seasoned soldier than any angel I’ve ever heard of. One thing’s for sure—I’m not going to get a lot of answers out of him.My hand stays out with the offered food long enough to make the moment awkward. “Don’t you want it?” I ask.“That depends on why you’re giving it to me.”I shrug. “Sometimes, as we’re stumbling along in the dark, we hit something good.”

“You should know,” he says. His whisper is low enough that even angels probably couldn’t hear it beyond the background noise of conversations in the corridor. “I don’t even like you.”

“I don’t know which is worse—that Raffe didn’t jump in to defend me, or that he bet that I would lose.”

“So,what do they call you if they don’t know your name?” There’s a brief pause before he answers. “The Wrath of God.”

“What if they don’t let us go through?” I ask, trying not to move my lips. “They will,” he answers from the dark recesses of the backseat footwell. “How do you know?” “Because you have the look they’re looking for.” “What look is that?” “Beautiful.” His voice is like a caress from the shadows.”