Wrath of the Fallen by Eve Archer
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ella
“Sara?” I tapped lightly on the door across from mine, sure she was inside. “Come on. Don’t shut me out. At least let me explain.”
There was no response, but after a few moments, the door opened. Sara stood inside, holding it open and silently waving for me to come in. She’d changed from her evening gown and wore black leggings and an oversized, white T-shirt she’d knotted at the waist. Suddenly, I regretted not changing before I’d knocked on her door.
Stepping from my heels—at least I could be barefoot—I scooped them up and walked inside. The light and airy room I’d seen earlier looked considerably less cheery at night, the curtains fluttering in the French doors that opened onto darkness instead of sunshine, and the flickering wall sconces sending shadows writhing across the ceiling. The duvet was pulled back, and the pillows stacked high on one side, with a Sara-sized divot in them.
“Were you getting ready to go to bed?”
Sara had always been a night owl. Even though we’d had an exhausting few days, I found it hard to believe she’d turn in before midnight. Not that I had much concept of what time it was after hopping across time zones.
She shook her head, her hair released from the high bun and swinging loose. “No, but it’s not like there’s anything to do in these rooms. They’re device free—no TV or radio or anything. Is this a demon lair, or an electronic detox facility?”
I smiled at her. “One and the same, I’m guessing. What better way to torture humans?”
This earned me a smile. “Good point.” She walked over to the bed and climbed onto it, crossing her legs in front of her.
I dropped my shoes on the colorful Persian carpet and joined her, perching on the edge since my dress was too tight to allow me to cross my legs. “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you about Rami right away.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I overreacted. I don’t know why I even got so upset. It’s not like he’s my boyfriend. Hell, we aren’t even friends with benefits.”
“But you care about him. I know you do.”
She shrugged. “Who wouldn’t? He’s gorgeous and mysterious and gallant. That doesn’t mean I can have any kind of real relationship with him. Or that I should. And it really doesn’t give me the right to get angry at you. It would be one thing if you kept a big secret from me about someone I was dating, but we’re not dating. We’re…we’re not anything.”
I reached out and put a hand on her knee. “I don’t think that’s true. I’ve seen the way you both look at each other and the way he protects you. You’re not nothing to him.”
She hitched in a breath. “But I’m not enough.” Her eyes shone as she blinked rapidly. “I wasn’t enough to keep Rami from pledging himself to work for the prince of demons.”
My heart squeezed as her face crumpled. “But don’t you see? You were part of the reason he did it. Rami knew that the only way to keep me safe—and you, since you’re part of my package—was to agree to Mastema’s deal. Otherwise, we’d all be back on the streets trying to find a place to hide from the archangels.”
“But it means I won’t see him for a whole year. I know that’s nothing to an immortal fallen angel, but it’s a lot when you’re thirty and very mortal. Anything could happen in a year. I could get hit by a bus, he could sleep with hundreds of other women,” she wrinkled her nose, “or demons.”
“Rami isn’t going to hook up with demons,” I said, although it wasn’t lost on me that Dominick had been involved with an alluring succubus who turned out to be Lilith. If he’d fallen victim to the charms of a pleasure demon, who was to say that Rami wouldn’t as well? Especially if he was going to be surrounded by demons for a year. Not that I was going to say any of that to Sara.
She huffed out a breath. “Maybe not, but our lives definitely won’t be going in the same direction. I know we aren’t together, but I guess I thought that it was still a possibility. But now…”
Usually, Sara was the one laying the hard truth on me, but now it was my turn.
“Rami is one of the Fallen and Dominick’s right hand guy, which means he never stays in one place long. And you are a die-hard New Yorker.”
“This is true.”
“Your lives were never going to mesh. Not in any long-term way.”
She opened her mouth then shut it again, nodding. “You’re right.”
“There’s a reason the Fallen don’t get involved in relationships with regular women. It never works out.”
Sara sighed. “Now I’m pissed at myself that I didn’t at least have a one-night stand with him.”
I laughed. “It’s not too late.”
She shook her head. “If I didn’t care about him, maybe, but at this point I’d just be torturing myself. I’d rather not know what I’m missing.”
I didn’t say anything to that. If Rami was anything like Dominick—and after thousands of years of experience, how could he not be?—Sara was missing a lot.
“You know I love having you with me, but at some point, you’ll have to go back to your life in New York. I might not have a job anymore, but you do.”
Her eyes widened as if she’d just remembered having a job. “And I’ve used up just about every vacation day and sick day I had.”
“Your boss loves you. And you never take time off, so he won’t say a word. But you love your job, and you worked hard to get where you are. You can’t give that up.”
She nodded, her shoulder drooping. “You’re right. As much crazy fun as all this has been, this isn’t my life.” She placed her hand over mine. “I’m not a demi-angel, and I’m not the girlfriend of a scary, fallen angel mob boss. This is your world now, but it isn’t mine.”
My throat tightened. “But it’s a world you’re willing to visit every so often, right?”
“Hells yeah.” She pulled me into a hug. “I still haven’t seen this super yacht you mentioned or the palazzo in Italy.”
“Or the hotel in Istanbul with the rooftop terrace overlooking the Blue Mosque.”
She swatted at me. “I can’t believe you did all these things without me.”
“At least you aren’t missing Paris.”
She tilted her head at me. “Staying in a demon lair does not count as visiting Paris.”
“But how many other people can say they’ve stayed in an actual demon’s chateau?”
She flopped back on the pile of pillows. “Your idea of a good time is getting seriously warped.”
