ZARIEL'S POV
I had mistaken an innocent human for the θυσία and almost killed him. Although, every time he opens his mouth, I feel more inclined to just rid him of existence altogether. But that wasn't the reason I was here. Control, Zariel. Control.
He wasn't the θυσία, which meant he must be connected to them somehow. If I kept him close, he'd eventually lead me to them. It was a theory worth testing—just not tonight. That ambush had been one too many demons for just the two of us. We needed a place to rest.
I turned to see him on the verge of a panic attack.
Interesting.
He mumbled nonsense under his breath, likely trying to calm himself down. It was getting tedious to watch, so I rolled my eyes and walked past him.
"If you're done panicking, we need to move."
"What the hell is wrong with you!?" he snapped. "Do you even blink when you kill something?"
"You should be grateful my sword didn't take more of your blood tonight." I pulled out a silver handkerchief—one Cassiel had given me centuries ago, our initials C & Z stitched in the corner—and wiped the blood clean.
"Let's go."
"To where?" His voice was wary now, much quieter than before.
"Your home, of course."
"Yeah, no." He rejected the idea immediately.
"And why not?" I turned fully to him, unimpressed.
"My house is miles away from here. Let's just rent a hotel instead," he grumbled, already limping away before I could argue.
Catching up to him was effortless. In fact, I walked ahead, forcing him to pick up the pace.
"Weakling," I muttered under my breath.
I heard him suck in a breath, ready to cuss me out.
"Fu—" He choked. His mouth opened and closed like a fish.
I smirked.
His face contorted in frustration. "How and why do you keep doing that!?"
"Doing what?" I feigned ignorance.
"I can't swear! And it started when you showed up out of nowhere!"
"Well, then don't swear." I gave him a fake smile. "It's rude and indecent."
He let out a long, defeated sigh and gave up, leading us into a large hotel. As soon as we stepped through the entrance, the glamour activated.
In an instant, I looked human—no silver hair, no glowing skin, no wings. Instead, I was draped in a long, silver body-hugging dress, my dark olive skin soft and radiant, my hair styled in a side-swept manner. To the untrained eye, I was nothing more than a gorgeous human woman.
The boy hadn't noticed yet. He was busy talking to the female receptionist, who, despite her professional composure, couldn't stop stealing glances at me.
"There are no more available rooms," she informed him, "except for the couple's lounge."
"What? Seriously?"
"Yes. Because of the upcoming festival, most rooms were booked months in advance. The couple's suite is only available because its intended guests were delayed due to bad weather. You could try another hotel, but it might take a while to find one with vacancies."
Erick groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. "Fine. We'll take it."
He handed over his credit card, and after a beep from the machine, the receptionist returned it along with a keycard and receipt.
"Ninth floor, room 77."
He muttered a thanks and walked toward the elevator, his frustration palpable.
As I followed, I caught the receptionist's gaze, offering her a playful wink and smile. She blushed.
Inside the elevator, Erick finally noticed me. His eyes widened, and he whipped his head around like he was searching for something.
"What are you doing?" I asked, already irritated.
"Uh…good evening, gorgeous. If you don't mind me asking, did you see a silver-haired girl around? Pale silver skin? Giant wings? Possible assassin?"
The elevator doors closed, and in an instant, I dropped the glamour, returning to my divine form.
He paled and made a pathetic sound of distress.
I rolled my eyes and shifted back to my human appearance just as the elevator dinged.
The ride was silent, save for his muttering. Annoying.
Once we reached the ninth floor, we found our room. Erick swiped the keycard, and the door clicked open.
Inside, the suite was elegant—soft golden lighting, plush cream-colored carpets, and a seating area with a velvet loveseat and a marble coffee table. The walls were adorned with intricate gold detailing, and a floor-to-ceiling window overlooked the glowing city.
The problem?
Only one bed.
A queen-sized bed sat in the middle of the room, covered in crisp white sheets and thick, plush pillows. Erick stiffened beside me.
I, however, saw no issue. He could sleep on the floor. Or the couch. Simple.
I shrugged, walking deeper into the room, my fingers brushing the delicate gold embroidery on the walls.
"Heaven's better," I noted flatly.
"Of course it is," he muttered. "I'm going to shower."
He disappeared into the bathroom, and I moved to the window, parting the curtains just enough to peer outside.
The streets below were crawling with demons. Other creatures, too.
I shut the curtains immediately.
Thank the Creator we found shelter quickly. I had no interest in dealing with them tonight.
I rummaged through the wardrobe and found a nightgown—a light blue dress, decorated with delicate floral embroidery, stopping just above my knees.
When Erick emerged from the bathroom, I slipped in, filling the tub with warm water before sinking into it.
By the time I emerged, he was standing by the bed, phone in hand.
Hearing me enter, he turned—and immediately choked, his face turning an amusing shade of red.
"What?" I asked, confused.
He shook his head rapidly.
I rolled my eyes. "Annoying." I climbed into bed.
After a moment, he hesitated. Then, the lights clicked off, and the mattress dipped as he climbed in on the opposite side.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting in bed?"
"Why?"
"Where else would I sleep?"
"The floor."
"You're joking." Silence. "…You're not joking."
Another pause.
"I can't sleep on the floor," he tried to argue.
"Couch."
"Oh, come on! I'm injured and in pain. That'll be even less comfortable."
"So annoying and loud." I tsked, already regretting this arrangement. "Whatever, just don't come close to me, or I'll either push you off the bed or tear your limbs."
"I won't... no matter how tempting," he muttered under his breath.
I ignored him, shifting to a more comfortable position.
"If he dies from something as pathetic as back pain, it'll be a nuisance to find another lead," I justified to myself.
Silence settled over the room.
Eventually, his breathing slowed, evening out into deep, rhythmic inhales.
He was asleep.
Finally.