“Some women like it.” He grinned, unrepentant.
“Ugh, let’s get this over with. I have an assignment for you.”
“I’m out of the family business, remember?” Lash leaned back in his seat. “As I recall, you were there when I was unceremoniously tossed out the door.”
“It was the highlight of my century.”
“I’m sure it was.” Lash looked into her cat-like eyes and wished he could wipe the smugness off her face. “Whatever you have, I’m not interested.”
Gabrielle arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure?” She pulled out a folded piece of paper from the back pocket of her jeans and waved it in front of his face. “Aren’t you the least bit curious why Michael would give you an assignment after all these years?”
He was curious, but by no means did he want Gabrielle to know it. He tilted the chair back, balancing himself on its hind legs, and placed his legs on the table. “I couldn’t care less.”
“I told Raphael not to waste his time.”
His chair wobbled, threatening to throw him off balance. He quickly adjusted. Without taking his eyes off her, he said, “For once, we agree on something.”
Gabrielle tossed the paper to the center of the table. “Whether you care or not is none of my concern. What you do with it is your choice.”
Lash glanced at the paper out of the corner of his eye. He knew she’d continue to watch him after she left to see if he’d sneak a peek. “Leaving so soon?” He dropped the front legs of the chair to the floor when she stood.
“I have better things to do than to watch you waste your gifts away. Michael should have stripped them all from you the moment he kicked you out.”
“Gifts? Please. Don’t make me laugh. I’m limited with what I can do in my human form, you know that.” His ability to see and hear was still better than a human’s, and he was much stronger than they were, but his flying distance was severely cut back. He hated it.
“Oh, poor you,” she said before she turned and walked toward the door. “I’m done here.”
“Wait,” Lash called out after her. “Why did Michael send you to deliver the assignment?”
Gabrielle turned, piercing eyes locked with his and lips turned into a wicked smile. “I volunteered.”
Her words were like a slap in the face. She knew that by delivering the message herself he would turn it down. It must be something really important for her to be desperate enough to make sure he wouldn’t accept it.
Lash reached for the paper, and Gabrielle’s smile froze. He chuckled. “You really don’t want me to see this do you?”
Gabrielle smoothed her features and shrugged. “As I said, I don’t really care.” She opened the door, letting the afternoon light filter into the dark club. As she walked out the door, she muttered under her breath, “Weakling,” and slammed the door shut.
“Bitch!” Lash yelled after her, knowing full well that she could hear him even if he had whispered it. Without thinking, he grabbed the paper, ripped it to shreds and tossed them in the air. As the white pieces fluttered down to the floor, he drained the last of his whiskey and slammed the glass on the table, shattering it.
Damn human body and its sensitivity to pain. He winced when he opened his hand and plucked shards of glass from his palm. Blood oozed and dripped onto the table.
“Hon, are you—oh my, you’re bleedin’,” a woman drawled. She ran over to the bar and came back with a dishrag. “Wrap this ’round your hand.”
Lash jerked the towel from her, angry that Gabrielle got the better of him.
“Hey! You don’t have to be so mean,” the woman said.
Lash looked up and peered into a pair of green eyes similar to Gabrielle’s, except much kinder. She gasped.
“You’re beautiful,” she murmured, mesmerized. “Is there anything I can get you?”
Lash smirked. In their human forms, all angels were seen as striking to humans, even the fallen. Luckily for him, every woman he ran into since he was cast out was desperate for his attention and did anything he asked of her. At first, he didn’t want to take advantage, but when he realized that he was left on his own, he needed to make a living somehow. Beautiful body or not, it needed to be clothed, fed, and sheltered. Humans were so high maintenance.
“No, I’m fine. It’s just a scratch,” Lash said as he wiped his hand and shoved it into his jacket pocket. He knew that within a couple of minutes the wound would be healed. It was one of the gifts he was allowed to have that came in handy over the years.
“Are you sure? It looked pretty bad.”