Sunny smirked. “Of course, Maker. I was just… joking.” Her eyes flashed with something like curiosity, or perhaps caution. “Maker?” She lifted her hand to wipe at her lip. “You, um, you have something… there.” She pointed one shimmering brown hand at my face.
I reached up and felt a chunk of smut. I pulled it away, but saw one long, shining silver hair embedded in the gunk. Turning away quickly, I grabbed the soul knife and shaved my face as human men did, ignoring the burn when I moved the blade too quickly. “Thank you, Protector. You are dismissed.”
“Thank you,High Angelus,” she said, empathizing my title with another frown, and making strange faces at Feather when she thought I wasn’t looking. I watched out of the corner of one eye as Feather shrugged in return. “I’ll come back tomorrow. I’ll bring clean clothes and… things.”
I nodded curtly, wishing the Protector gone. She brushed against the table piled with Feather’s “things” as she left, and more of the shining metallic pieces floated through the air before settling on the floor.
“What is that?” I lifted the top shirt off the stack. It was a large garment, easily big enough for me. I knew I was looking at the back, since there were two holes cut, obviously for wings, each one delineated with a row of small turquoise metal discs.
“The sequins are the same color as your eyes. I made it for you,” Feather muttered after a short silence. “All of them, actually.”
My heart raced. “You made me gifts?” She nodded slightly, and I took care as I turned the shirt around in my hands. And stared.
And stared some more.
Finally, I managed to speak. “Does this say what I think it does?” Her only response was a giggle. I fought to keep my face stern. “Close your eyes, Novice.” I didn’t bother to reprimand her when I saw green peeking out from behind her lashes. I turned my back and pulled my robe off, replacing it with the t-shirt, threading my wings through the slits and closing up the back with the odd plastic closures.
“Hmm. It fits,” I mused. “You did a very… thorough job. I think I see every color of glitter in this garment. And what are the larger ones again?”
“Sequins,” she squeaked. “Do you really like it?”
“I really do,” I said. “I’d vow it on my wings.”
Feather’s eyes went wide. “I’m not sure what that means. You’re telling the truth, right?”
I felt a mere hundred years old again when my eyes met hers. “I won’t ever lie to you, my… my Feather.” I pulled out the stool next to her and picked up the cloth, wiping at her face again.
Sunny had been right; the smut was practically leaping away from Feather’s skin. I wasn’t totally surprised, since she bore half of my soul, whether she knew it or not. And I had been almost entirely smut-free for the— How many thousands of years had I been in existence now?
I wished Rafe were here to remind me. He was always better at keeping track of such things.
“Why do you look sad?” Feather’s hand rested on my knee, and I placed one of mine over it, allowing myself this small touch.
“I was thinking of a friend. My best friend—and Gavriel’s. He was the oldest in Sanctuary for a long time. The leader, until he was called by a Celestial messenger to go into the Abyss and help with an imbalance.”
“He never came back?” she asked softly.
“No. But he would have adored you. He loved practical jokes, and guessing games. Sanctuary was once filled with laughter and music. Rafe was an incredible musician; he sang all the time.” Suddenly, I was overcome with emotion. Rafe would never meet my mate. I had always known this would be the case, but now that I had her, I realized how much I wanted the two of them to know each other. I forced a laugh as I unfolded another shirt—decorated with an even bawdier expression—and glitter went flying. “What would the great Seraphiel have thought about glitter in Sanctuary?”
“Seraphiel?”
“His name. We called him Rafe, though. He said using the whole thing made him feel old and stuffy,” I replied as I examined the whole stack of shirts. Feather had been working on these for some time, and I found myself inexplicably blushing. She really had found me attractive. She had wanted me.
Maybe I could tell her what I had done. Maybe… there was some way we could be, if not mates in truth, at least close friends. Rafe’s departure had left a scar on my heart. If Feather left me, I feared my heart might become as scarred over as the body I kept hidden under my robe.
I stared at my hands and at the gifts for a long while, finally speaking. “Feather, I need to confess something I have done.”
I waited, but she didn’t reply. When I turned, I saw she had fallen back to sleep. I stared down into the exquisite, stained face of my soul bond until a soft knock at the door reminded me that I was not just her mate. I was one of the last two High Angeli in Sanctuary, and I had work to do. Work that could not be done with a workshop full of glitter.
I answered the door and made a request of the startled Guide who forgot his errand when he read my shirt. Eventually, he stammered out a request to attend a special meeting.
A few moments later, I opened the door again, this time with an evil smile. “You sent for me, Maker?” the waiting Protector said stiffly.
“I did indeed. I have a very important task for you, Righteous.”
This one was responsible for the smut my small mate suffered under, and mine as well. He was about to learn that the denizens of the Abyss had nothing on an angered Angeli mate when it came to torture.
CHAPTER25
