Page 60 of Reapers Don’t Ride

I blinked at him and then felt all cold and hot even though my temperature was perfectly stable. "He said that he did." I felt guilty for no reason, no, for hoping that Gavriel liked my cake when I knew that him having any genuine feelings for me would ruin him.

“He lied.”

I blinked at him. “What?”

“He hates that cake with a passion. He hates that you protected it instead of yourself. He wishes the cake had never been born. It could taste like heaven itself, and he’d still despise it. He doesn’t understand that the cake is your love, that your love makes you weak, that he is the cake.”

I stood for a moment, considering. “You’re saying that he hates himself?”

“For not protecting you, for convincing you to stop killing and putting your life at risk, yes. Most likely. But he’s got a good smile that can cover up all the feelings. He’s an angel. Would you like me to tell you what they’re like?” He leaned over the counter, eyes burning with an eerie green light. What was he?

“I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Purpose. And what happens when an angel loses his purpose?”

“He starts hanging out with vampires.”

“You aren’t ‘vampires’ to him.”

I winced. Except I was supposed to have a cover where we were runaway lovers. I’d accepted his love and thought it was fine. What world would it be fine for someone to ruin someone else’s life and call it love?

“The longer you are together, the less comfortable you are with the situation,” he observed.

“I’m used to being alone. And he is used to being part of something great and important and noble.”

“Exactly. And if he’s part of you, and he thinks you’re great and important and noble… That’s a lot of pressure. Not that you can’t handle it. I mean, you didn’t kill a single one of them. It’s almost as if they were sent to die. But what would be the point of that?”

“None of them were identified?”

“After their faces melted off, there wasn’t much to identify.”

“There was one demon with wings. And a werewolf. Fresh recruits. Who would you go to if you wanted to hire mercenaries that you were going to kill? What about the Devil?”

“The Operator of Wonderland?” He grimaced. “If there’s anything worse than a demon, it’s a devil.”

“Exactly. And if it was him brokering the talent, then he’d be quite put out about their demise. It would be bad for business.”

Gavriel cleared his throat behind me. My skin started itching, particularly my gums.

“The devil?” he asked.

I turned to stare at the most beautiful, glorious, ominous presence in the world. In any world. “I can see him on the way to drop off the cake box.”

He raised the blue and white striped container, ribbon wrapped around his wrist. “Let’s go then.”

“Angels don’t belong in Wonderland.”

“This angel belongs wherever my vampire goes.”

His vampire? I got goosebumps and my stomach tangled and my hands got weird, sweaty, only vampires don’t sweat. “Right. No point in trying to look like a gambling addict, so we’ll go in with a moderate show of force, get his attention, and talk to him about the mercenaries.”

He cocked his head, thinking. “This is the Devil of Song. I’d say that we go in offering him information about the mercenaries that he probably fixed. And if it wasn’t him, then maybe he can tell us who it was. A show of force isn’t going to impress him. How well do you know the Devil of Wonderland?”

“Not at all. And you?”

“We’ve had a few dealings.”

“Dealings?” I glared at him. “You’ve made deals with a devil?”