Page 21 of Angels Don’t Date

Richard and Mitt finally got the monster under control, and then with a snarl at me, the creature snapped its teeth, and almost instantly died. The glamour or whatever magic hid his true self melted away, leaving him a mess of shadows and angles, like he’d been carved from glass, translucent skin, and no hair. The silver wig was on the floor next to the molten lava cake like a swathe of seaweed mixed with glass and mud.

“Well!” Pearly White said, moving so the camera had to follow him and not focus on the body on the floor. “The path of love never did run smooth. We’ll be back after this message to declare the winner of the big bake off!”

The camera turned off and Pearly White scowled at the body. “Can you move him before he messes up the rug?”

“How can we have a winner when one of the contestants was a murderer?” Monterose demanded, wings fluttering in visible distress. He’d never tried to help stop the killer or identify the poison. Fairies were supposed to be pretty good healers, but he hadn’t even tried. I was starting to seriously dislike him.

“And the angel didn’t get to have his turn,” Rafe said, glancing at Richard who was still wearing flame pants and looking like… He looked like a golden statue brought to life, gleaming, glowing, freshly washed in heavenly flames. And I’d tried to drain his blood like a medieval doctor. I just needed some leeches to be really legit.

I took the plate off the side table where Richard had put his cupcake. Strawberry froth was on top of the cute little thing. It didn’t look like the most amazing thing in the world, but every swirl of frosting was perfectly peaked, and it smelled edible.

I peeled back the wrapper. Maybe it would kill me, but I was feeling like that was my best option. I froze as the flavors spilled over my tongue. Not just vanilla and fresh strawberry with something else that made my toes curl, but the texture was so delectable, moist crumb, and creamy cream cheese strawberry swirl, melting and fresh.

I moaned and then straightened up, putting the cupcake back on the plate with that bite out of it, feeling guilty. “I need to lie down,” I announced. “I’m broken-hearted about Zander’s betrayal. Or maybe it was never Zander. What happened to my sweet elf?” I tried to look dramatic and delicate as I hurried out, taking a page from the fairy. Pearly White could wrap up that disaster all by himself. I had poisoned angel blood to wash out of my dress.

Chapter

Eight

Iwas in the kitchen, washing my skirt in the sink when Richard leaned on the counter next to me and held out a cupcake.

“We should talk,” he said.

I gave him a stiff smile. “Would you like me to prepare a proper ancient cure-all after your poisoning? I might be able to really hurt you.”

His smile positively glimmered. He was wearing pants. That was good. He grabbed an apple and bit into it. He chewed and swallowed while I focused on my specked skirt. “Any idea who’s behind the assassination attempts?”

“No.” I didn’t look at him.

“Do you know what that thing was, pretending to be Zander?”

“No.” I wouldn’t ever look at him again. After his heroic rescue, no way the audience would let me vote him off. Sigh.

“One word you could use, probably the most relevant is: expensive. And the goblin worked for the Scholar, right? That means someone who could buy or manipulate practically anyone.”

“Yes, all wealthy and influential people despise my birth father or the Scholar or both. I try not to take it personally, but it’s hard when people keep dying.” I scrubbed the skirt too hard, and it went down into the sudsy water, splashing more water all over me in my white petticoat.

He spoke languidly, so close to me. “Assassins keep dying. I try not to think of them as people.”

I turned to glare at him. His eyes were bright, not nearly as apathetic as he sounded. I elbowed him away before I drained the water. “I taught Mini how to use eye shadow. She had a crush on Mitt for two years that I was trying to help her with. But no, I can see how she wasn’t a person.” He was such a jerk! Seriously, how could anyone be so horrible?

His eyes softened and he shook his head. “Can I tell you a secret?”

I blinked at him. About assassins? About Mini? What did he know? “Can I stop you?” I stammered, mouth suddenly dry.

He gave me a full smile that was so gloriously golden I wanted to bite it. “I’m SunRae.”

I froze, undone for the second time today. “SunRae? What?”

He patted my shoulder, giving me a flash of warmth and comfort before he pulled away with a broad smile. “I’m a serial hobbyist. I get bored and take up something new. It never lasts, but I started baking for Vesper, that’s my Pegasus, Vesper, because we were having a rough time. Not sure if you know how absolutely bull-headed and obnoxious Pegasus’s are, but he gives me a run for my money.” He flashed a grin and showed a dimple in his cheek. “So I baked for him, because it’s bonding to cook for your pets. Have you cooked for your kittens yet? I can help you if you’d like.”

I stared at him, heart pounding faster and faster. Richard the Lion was SunRae? I nodded slowly. “That explains the counter in the photo. It explains literally nothing else. You didn’t dispose of her, did you?” My heart constricted at the thought.

He shrugged and leaned heavily against the counter, head cocked. “You followed my LionFire account five years ago. I make a point to reciprocate to everyone who follows me. It’s a matter of intel. Because if you want to kill someone or destroy their organization the first step is to follow them. I’ve unrooted some nice conspiracies that way. I couldn’t follow you back because your account was so steeped in camouflaging magic. So I worked through all those layers of spells until I uncovered the pastel princess. And there you were, the Scholar’s ward. Mystery solved. You were hidden by him for your protection. That’s why you had four followers, all people you already knew and he approved of. Your content’s awesome. You deserve all the followers, but I get him trying to protect you.” He took another large bite of the red apple while I stared at him.

He was SunRae all along? And also, the Scholar had blocked my account for that long? I was almost fifty! When would he stop treating me like a child? But that wasn’t as important as SunRae in the flesh, in my kitchen, eating an apple. I’d spent five years texting ridiculous nonsense with the angel everyone despised? He’d said we couldn’t meet because of his personality issues.

I started giggling.