by Sadie Moss
The tension in the room is stifling, like a flame that sucks all the oxygen out of the atmosphere. And even though my angelic nature means I don’t have to breathe for long stretches at a time, I still feel like I’m suffocating right now.
Beckett’s posture is stiff. I can’t see his face right now, and I wish I could. I want to get a better read on what’s going on.
“You need to come help us. I don’t care whether it’s for selfish reasons or not, but we’re all going to lose if we don’t do something about this demon incursion. And yes, Trinity is an angel, and no, it’s not ideal. If you think I like this any more than you do, you’re deeply mistaken.”
Beckett seems to be breathing hard now, like he’s prepared for this fight to get physical. Ryland doesn’t look to be in much better shape. I can feel the hatred that seems to be radiating from both of them.
What on earth happened between the two of them?
I didn’t get this from any of the others. Ford literally fought Beckett when I first met him, but they seemed to just be… working off some steam. They were fine afterward.
This? This burns the back of my throat, making me shake. Whatever went down between them in the past to make them hate each other so much, it must’ve been truly awful.
Ryland glares at Beckett for a moment, then holds up a hand. “I’ll speak to her first.” He jerks his chin in my direction.
Beckett steps back, but it’s just so he can wrap an arm around my waist, tucking me protectively into his side. “No.”
Thank goodness.
I want to cling to him, but I feel like that would be a bit more than Beckett would appreciate, even with his current display of possessive protection. I’m not sure if this is because he actually cares about me in any way—which sends an entirely different kind of shiver down my spine—or if it’s because he just wants to put himself in opposition to his brother, and the best and fastest way to do that is to align himself with the angel Ryland is currently sneering at.
Ryland tsks impatiently. “I’m not going to do anything to her. I’ve agreed to help you. But only if you let me speak to the—”
“She has a name,” Beckett cuts in. “It’s Trinity.”
“Trinity.” Ryland repeats the word like he’s making a concession. “I will speak to Trinity alone first.”
Hoo boy. I really don’t want to do that. But the guys seemed adamant that we need Ryland to help us, that they’re stronger when they work as a team. And I need Ryland for my assignment.
Ah, crap, how am I supposed to turn this guy toward the side of Upstairs? How am I supposed to redeem him? He looks like he’s actively thinking of a way to feed me to sharks right now.
Beckett glances at me, his jaw set. But I swallow and nod. “It’s all right.”
I mean, I doubt it’s actually all right, but I figure Ryland won’t hurt me in front of all these humans. There are dozens of them on the other side of the glass, able to see in clear as day. Plus, Beckett’s going to be right on the other side, and I know it’s probably not very wise, but I trust that he’ll protect me. That he’ll barge back in if something goes really wrong.
As if to prove my words right, Beckett glares at Ryland. “Don’t touch her.”
He gives me one more look, one I can’t quite read, then exits, closing the door behind him.
I force myself to turn and look at Ryland instead of staring after Beckett like a kid who just got dropped off at her first day of kindergarten.
Ryland studies me for a long moment, eyeing me up and down like he’s trying to x-ray me. Silence settles between us for a long moment, then he leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers under his chin. “I know exactly what you’re doing.”
That startles me. “I… what? Excuse me?”
“I know what you’re doing.” Ryland gives me a smile as cold as the rest of him. “Don’t try to deny it. I see much better liars every day up on the witness stand.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Even as I say it, I know I’m not succeeding in convincing him. I’m not a good liar at all, and while I don’t technically know what he’s talking about, since I can’t read anyone’s mind and he hasn’t said it outright, I do have a pretty good guess.
I do have one big secret, and I have a sinking feeling he’s figured it out.
Ryland’s smile fades. “Trinity.” Holy crap. I’ve never heard my name sound utterly terrifying before. “I suggest you make this easier for both of us by just telling the truth.”
Shoot. This is a total nightmare.
My mouth opens slowly as I try to come up with some last-ditch plan to save myself. But it’s too late. He knows.
“I… I didn’t come up to your brothers just to get their help with the portal. The portal wasn’t even open when I first went to go see Beckett. I’m supposed to try to redeem you. It’s my mission. Upstairs wants you seven on their side for the war.”
Ryland’s eyes flare a little, and he nods shortly. “Interesting…”
He speaks almost as if to himself, as if I’m not there. I feel like I just gave him the final piece to a puzzle he’s been doing, but I didn’t realize it was a puzzle piece until I handed it over. And I’m still not sure what the final picture is that he’s putting together.
Gahh, I wish that I could read his expression. I’ve only just met this guy, so I have no clue what his face is supposed to be telling me right now. Or if he wants me to read anything in it at all. Either way, I feel completely off balance.
“Please don’t tell your brothers,” I beg. I know it’s probably ridiculous of me to ask such a thing, but if I can get him to keep quiet, I want him to. I’ll never be able to convince all of them to keep helping me if they learn I’m supposed to turn them toward the side of good.
And I need their help. No matter what Anderson said, no matter how little he seemed to care, I don’t want portals to Hell opening up all over Earth.
Humans don’t deserve that.
Ryland lifts one eyebrow, the movement so slight I could almost have imagined it. “I have no reason not to.”
Great. Okay. Well.
I could yell at him the way Beckett did, but after watching the two of them go head to head, I’m not sure that’s the best option. Ryland could probably squash me like a bug.
But he is a sin. And no matter how powerful it makes him, it makes him vulnerable in some ways too. Maybe instead of antagonizing his Pride, I can… stroke it, so to speak.
If I flatter him, maybe I can turn this around.
“I mean, I’m not sure why you would tell them,” I say, making myself sound uncertain, in need of guidance. “You’re the first one of your brothers to figure me out. They all took me at face value. I was surprised, honestly; I thought they would be more clever than that. You seem like someone who likes to have an advantage. Isn’t that what you do when you’re in court? You have to get all the information and then hold it close to your chest right up until the perfect moment. Then you unleash it.”
Ryland blinks and rears back ever so slightly, staring at me like he’s seeing me in a new light. I think, somehow, I’ve impressed him a bit.
“You now have leverage over me that no one else has,” I point out. “I suppose that… could be a reason not to tell them. They are your brothers, so I’d understand if you wanted to tell them out of a sense of loyalty. But none of them figured it out on their own. Not like you did. Do they deserve to know?”
Oh man. I feel like a major asshole, and yes, I know I just said ass.
This is harder than I thought it would be. I’m trying to get into Ryland’s headspace in order to make an argument he’ll find persuasive, and it’s making my skin itch.
Under normal circumstances, I’d be trying to convince him he should tell them. After all, they’re his family, in a way. Shouldn’t he want to help them? Shouldn’t he share what he knows?
But in a world where Pride rules, he’s the only one who deserves to know. If he shares his kn
owledge with others who didn’t earn it, then what’s his prize for being the most clever?
Ryland tips his head at me, considering, and I try to keep a blank expression on my face.
Please say yes. Please, please, please.
I need all of the sins together. I need them to work with me so I can redeem them and get back home.
Come on, come on. You’re the personification of Pride. Come on…
Chapter Six
RYLAND
The angel is beautiful.
Deep brown eyes flash with inner light as she gazes at me, her heart-shaped face open and earnest. A halo of dark hair surrounds her head, and her mocha skin looks smooth and soft. She is entirely enchanting.
But beyond that, beyond her alluring beauty, is something else.
Strength.
She’s petite, at least a foot shorter than I am, but she’s holding herself up to her full height, refusing to show weakness in front of me.
It’s not that she isn’t frightened—I can feel the fear rolling off her in slow waves—but she won’t let it rule her. I can respect that.
I know what she’s doing, of course. She’s not the first person who’s tried to appeal to my pride to get what they want. She’s not the first to use flattery to try to manipulate me.
But I am a bit surprised that an angel is using these tactics. She’s fallen, clearly, so perhaps that’s why she doesn’t comport herself with the usual haughty disrespect I’ve come to expect of angels.
What is your game, little one?
As if she can hear my thoughts, Trinity affixes an innocent expression on her face, giving a little shrug. “I mean, if you feel like it’s your responsibility to tell your brothers, I understand. It’s definitely what I would do. I just sort of thought you might like to keep that information to yourself until you can figure out if it’s useful to you or not.”
A little flare of pride wafts from her as she finishes speaking. She’s pleased with herself for that comment, and why shouldn’t she be? She’s as good as told me I’ll be acting like an angel if I choose to tell my brothers about her real reason for having sought us out.
And she has to know I find that idea repugnant.
“How long have you been on Earth, little one?” I ask instead of responding to her words.
She blinks, leaning back on her heels a little. “About thirty years.”
“Thirty?” I cock my head, rising slowly from my chair as I brace my hands on the broad desk in front of me. “You seem far too innocent to have been living among humans for that long.”
She bristles. “I’m not that innocent.”
My lips stretch in a cool smile, one I’ve used in the courtroom more times than I can count. It’s a smile that says one word.
Liar.
Trinity’s small hands clench into fists. Her delicate features harden in determination, and she narrows her eyes at me.
“Okay, maybe I didn’t get out all that much. But that doesn’t make me stupid. I know that half the reason you asked to speak to me alone had nothing to do with me. It was just because you wanted to piss Beckett off, to get under his skin. And probably to score some kind of points in your—your penis measuring contest by making sure he knows this is your office and you get to dictate the terms here.”
My eyebrows almost shoot up in surprise, but I restrain the gesture so that they do no more than twitch slightly.
There’s that fierceness again.
She is both innocent and bold, a combination that instantly intrigues me. And even though I swear she blushed a little at the mention of male genitalia, her gaze remains steady on mine.
And she’s not wrong. About any of it.
I’m certain she doesn’t know the history between me and my brother, but even without knowing the particulars, she’s managed to correctly assess exactly what’s going on here. This is a battle of wills, a minor skirmish in a years-long war between Beckett and myself, and she’s just one piece of the sprawling picture.
My brother.
I try to think of Greed as little as possible, but I’m acutely aware of him at the moment. Beckett is outside my office right now, stewing over the fact that I’m alone with Trinity—that he was forced to leave her in my care for even a short while. The force of his gaze could nearly shatter the glass wall that separates us, and I swear he hasn’t moved or blinked since he stepped outside.
For whatever reason, my brother is attached to this little angel.
He doesn’t want me to have her. To be near her. Not even for a moment.
A stab of pain pierces my chest at the thought, driving through minuscule cracks in the barrier around my heart like the thinnest needle. My jaw clenches at the sudden surprising jolt of emotion, but I shove it down, careful not to let even a hint of it show on my face.
I haven’t let myself feel anything for years. Haven’t let myself dwell on the past.
Emotion is weakness, and my pride will allow me no weaknesses.
Trinity’s bold exterior is beginning to crumble in the face of my cool silence. She licks her lips, drawing my gaze to the perfect, plump bow shape.
“Look, if you’re going to tell them, I can’t stop you,” she says. “But in case it makes a difference to you, I promise, I’m not here to try to hurt anyone. I’m not out to get your brothers, and I won’t intentionally lure them into danger—even if what we’re trying to do is kind of inherently dangerous.” She stops to consider for a second, then adds, “And I’m not trying to seduce them, if that’s what you’re thinking. I don’t know where everyone keeps getting that idea.”
This time it’s my lips that twitch, almost curving up into a smile before I school my features. I’m not sure which of my brothers accused her of that, although my guess would be Ford or Phoenix. Ford because he’s suspicious of everyone, and Phoenix because… well, probably because he was hoping it was true.
It’s not though, I don’t think. At least not in the way she’s referring to it as she stands before me with an indignant, slightly flustered look on her face. She wasn’t sent here to seduce us.
But her strength, her wide-eyed innocence, her stubbornness… her goodness? They’re seductive anyway.
Even I find myself being drawn in by her, and I’ve always prided myself on my ability to resist anyone’s charms. To think logically and heartlessly, to consider what benefits me most and separate it out from the messy tangle of what other people want or need. To make decisions based on cool rationality.
And although I tell myself there will be something in it for me, I’m not sure that’s the only reason I’m considering accepting her plea for help.
Ice floods my veins at that realization, and I allow it to chill my skin, bringing my body and mind back under my firm control.
Pride will not be bested by an angel. No matter how alluring she is.
“What did you offer the others?” I ask sharply.
“I… what?” She blinks. “Nothing. I just told you, I’m not here to seduce anyone. What happened between us was… well, there was the lust dust, and the guys helped me get it out of my system before I went crazy. And then with Ford, I—”
It occurs to me that she thinks we’re still talking about sex, and although I’m sorely tempted to let her continue, I hold a hand up, cutting her off.
“No. I mean what did you offer them in exchange for their help? I know my brothers better than you can ever hope to, little one. I know most of them wouldn’t lift a finger to help you unless they were promised something valuable in return—not even if the entire world was burning. So what was your bargain with them?”
She hesitates for a moment, and I imagine she’s running through different responses in her mind, trying to guess which one will play out the best. I wonder if she’ll try to deny it, try to lie so that she can maintain a higher ground in our negotiations.
But she surprises me again when she squares her shoulders and meets my gaze. “I promised Beckett, Ford, Remington, and Nix each a favo
r. Ford said no, but the other three accepted.”
She makes no mention of Knight or Sawyer, which I take to mean they were left out of this particular bargain. I’m not surprised Ford said no. His anger and suspicion make it hard for him to act in his own self-interest sometimes.
What good is a favor from an angel? What will it get me?
I don’t know yet.
But that hardly makes it worthless.
Just like when I’m prepping a case, I know better than to dismiss anything, no matter how inconsequential it might seem. Sometimes the most useful pieces of evidence are the ones that seemed like nothing at first.
Moving fluidly, I step around my desk and stride toward the angel. I can see her weight shift backward as she resists the urge to flee, but she manages to stand her ground as I come to a stop in front of her.
This close, the dichotomy between her strength and vulnerability is even more clear. She’s so small, petite and almost elfin in appearance. But the way her chin tips up as she meets my gaze tells me that she’s the type of person who would stand in front of a bulldozer to fight for what she believes in.
Even if it meant getting crushed.
“All right, little angel,” I murmur, keeping my voice cool and controlled. “I’ll help you.”
“And?” she prompts.
She smells sweet, like something pure and refreshing, and her scent creeps into my nostrils as she gazes up at me with an almost challenging expression on her face.
I allow myself to smile again. “And in exchange, you will owe me one favor, to be called in at the time and manner of my choosing. Those are my terms. Do you agree?”
She hesitates for a moment. As well she should.
The angel must’ve known this was coming as soon as she told me what she offered my other brothers. But it speaks highly of her intelligence and self-preservation instincts that she thinks hard for several long beats before she answers.
If I was her lawyer, I would tell her not to take this deal. I would advise her to turn and walk right out the door, to meet Beckett where he waits outside, fists nearly pressed up against the glass.