Page 63 of Grave Consequences
But before he can ask anything else, the door flies open again, and in swoops the returning soldier angel, completely breathless.
“Out of the way, you dolt,” someone barks from behind him. The soldier scrambles to move and make way for the impatient fucker behind him.
I spot her purple hair and gold armor all at once, and then my brain clicks over to slo-mo as all the other details of the Colonel sink in. Royal purple hair. Rich, amethyst-colored wings. Eyes the color of Concord grapes.
All of these facts slap me right across the face, but the look that comes overherwhen she sets sight on Tazreel boxes it all up in a nice little package with a purple fucking bow on it.
“You!” they both snarl in surprise as recognition and anger explode into the room like someone just set off a rage bomb.
“You’reLegion?” Tazreel demands, outrage surging out of his every pore as he gapes at her.
“What are you doing here?” the Colonel barks out at the same time, and everyone’s heads volley back and forth between them like we’re watching a tennis match.
“Looks like Taz did fuck an angel after all,” I mumble, oddly numb by what’s unfolding before my very eyes.
I hear snorts of amusement from all of my demons, and the Colonel’s eyes snap over to us, looking lethal as fuck and very unamused. I can tell that she’s about to say something rude to who she assumes is the peanut gallery, but then her purple gaze lands on me, and her mouth drops open. I can practically see the biting retort she just loaded on her tongue shrivel up and fall right off.
There’s a long, awkward, heavy pause as the two of us just stare at each other. She seems stunned in place, while I’m doing my best not to squirm. I’ve never been good with attention.
So what do I do? I give her an awkward as fuck wave—and then ratchet up the uncomfortableness of the situation another thousand degrees by saying, “Hey, angel-mom.”
Her eyebrows shoot so far up into her royal purple hair, I’m surprised I don’t see them go falling out the back of her long locks braided tightly behind her back. Nothing worse than having to pick up your eyebrows off the floor and reaffix them in front of the daughter you abandoned and the demon you fucked. She looks to Tazreel and then back to me, and just like that, the emotion and surprise is gone. In their place is a steely acceptance and a hardened soul.
“What is going on?” the Legion Major demands, stepping forward with judgment and distaste written all over his gorgeous face.
“Really, Louquin, you’re going to pretend it’s not obvious?” she asks, calling him out, her tone mocking and filled with bite.
“Nefta, this is serious,” he chides.
“That’s Colonel to you. Watch yourself,” she rebukes, and he immediately straightens up and adopts a more respectful and stiffer stance.
“Apologies, Colonel,” he offers like a good little soldier, and Nefta—aka the Legion angel who gave birth to me—gives a terse nod and then turns away from him, like he’s no longer worth her attention.
She focuses a hostile stare on Tazreel, who at this point might as well have steam coming out of his nose and ear. He is one pissed off demon.
“How did you find her?” Nefta demands, very matter-of-factly.
I’m a little taken aback by the lack of denial or regret I see in her eyes. Or even a greeting. Maybe I didn’t expect a hug and tears, but I expectedsomething. But she hasn’t even spoken a word to me and is now talking about me like I’m not even here.
“How did I find her?” Tazreel repeats, incredulous fury pouring out of every word. “How does she evenexist?”
“Oh, come on now, Pride. After all these years, even you should have been able to stop looking in the mirror long enough to learn the birds and the bees,” she tells him evenly. “You see, the female, when fertile, produces an egg. She then drinks her weight in booze, picks a couple fights, flirts with anything that has wings, and then decides to take her friend up on her claim that fucking a demon is life-changing,” she says with a roll of her eyes.
Clearly, she doesn’t think the demon-fucking was anything to write home about. I guess I can put that in thethings I don’t have in common with my angel-mompile.
“You should have told me what you were,” Tazreel snarls at her.
“Oh, please. You told me your name was Sophocles and you were a Duo,” she tells him. “Let’s not pretend that you weren’t just as cagey as I was that night.”
“Sophocles? Really?” I ask, unable to pass up the opportunity to bust Tazreel’s balls.
“Now is not the time, Delta!” he snaps at me, and Nefta’s eyes widen slightly at my name and then narrow at Tazreel’s censure.
“How did you find her?” she growls out again, likethatis the most important thing to know in this scenario.
“I shouldn’t have had to find her!” Taz yells back. “If you didn’t want her, then she should have been turned over to me. You left her in the mortal world, for Christ’s sake!”
“Oh, don’t try and bring him into this. I know exactly what I did,” Nefta answers evenly. “As soon as I found out who you really were, I knew the last place she should ever be is in your care,” she spits out. “Now, are you going to tell me how you found her, or am I going to have to make you?”
