“Perfect,” Az said, and actually sounded like he meant it. “I thought they might keep it here during the day.”
Again with the “it” that made her so nervous.
“Stay here,” he said.
Right. Like she wanted to go following him toward that creepy growl. No, thanks. She backed up a few steps, just to be on the safe side. Let the tough angel go investigate, she’d just—
Strong hands closed around her shoulders. Jade didn’t waste breath screaming. Brandt. She spun around and struck out with her clenched fist.
And the guy caught her fist mid-punch.
Not Brandt. She recognized Sammael instantly. No mistaking those eyes that looked like they’d spent way too much time gazing into hell.
More monster than man.
“Well, hello there,” he murmured, his voice a silky threat. “I see my brother has taken to breaking into my place . . . and bringing violent friends to visit.”
Don’t show fear, but . . . “Tell me you aren’t here to kill me.”
He smiled.
“He’s not.” Az was at her side. Pushing the other guy back. “Sam owns Sunrise.”
Now the breaking and entering bit made sense.
Sam lifted a dark brow as he studied her. “Well aren’t you just something . . . different.”
Jade shook her head. “Since when does being mortal make me different? You guys are the strange ones, not me.” She couldn’t go around touching people and making them drop dead. If only. Then she wouldn’t be in this mess.
Sam took a step forward, sliding more into the light, and she saw the ripple of shadowy wings stretching from behind his body. Wings that weren’t there. Wings she shouldn’t see.
Bastion’s wings had seemed to break right through his clothes. But, since angels could conjure clothes, she figured it was really just some magical clothing fit over the wings. With Az and Sam, the same thing appeared to be happening with their shadow wings. The shadows just burst right through the back of their shirts.
They didn’t even seem to realize it.
And she’d been staring at him too long. Flushing, Jade yanked her gaze back to meet his. Too late. Judging by the look on his face, he knew she’d been staring at wings she shouldn’t see.
“Different,” he murmured again. “A demon made, not born.”
“What?” Her heart slammed into her ribs. “Did you just call me a demon?”
But now the guy wasn’t even looking at her. His gaze drifted to Az. “You’ve been screwing with the wrong people, Azrael. Heaven wants you dead, and the bastards here on earth want to give you a one-way ticket to hell.”
She noticed he didn’t sound particularly concerned.
And Az shrugged, not looking like he really gave a damn either. Since when did life not matter to him?
“Where’s the hound?” Az asked, and she saw his gaze sweep around the bar—and return to those locked metal doors.
Sam lifted one brow. “Why? You eager for that trip to hell? I suppose Beelzebub can drag you there. Though I would have thought you’d learned your lesson after that last round with a hound.”
“Wait a second here.” Jade held up her hands. Her head was starting to throb like a bitch. “Who’s Beelzebub?”
“My mate’s pet hellhound.” Sam grinned. It was a terrifying sight. “And I’d wager he’s getting pretty hungry about now.”
Oh, no. No way. The guy had not just said—in a flash, Jade grabbed Az’s arm and forced him to face her. “There’s a hellhound here? A real, live, freaking hellhound?”
And what sane person would want to be around a beast like that?
“Before she fell, Sam’s . . . mate . . . was a punishment angel.” Az’s gaze held hers. “Punishment angels are the only ones who can control the beasts.”
“That’s right.” A woman’s smooth voice floated in the air. Jade spun around and saw a gorgeous blonde stroll up next to Sam. Her eyes were dark and measuring as they swept over Jade. “Beelzebub isn’t some attack dog that I loan out,” the woman said and she sounded . . . offended. Definitely huffy. The blonde paused and added, “He’s family.”
Right. Because it was normal to have a hellhound as a pet. No, as family. Jade released Az and stood there, trying not to look as frightened as she felt.
“I just need his claws.” Az turned toward the blonde. His hands were loose at his sides now. “It’s not like they won’t grow back.”
Sam threw back his head and laughed. “You think a hellhound is gonna let you trim his nails? Not f**king likely, brother. More like he’ll rip you open.” The smirk remained on his face. “Though I do think you’ve got a bit of pain due your way.”