I glanced at his jeans. He followed my eyes.
“I have average parts,” he said quickly, and then his arrogant smile reappeared. “Although I wouldn’t actually call mine average, but yes, I have man parts. We can date each other—angels can date each other—but our jobs are too demanding for a serious commitment.”
It all sounded so logistical and practical, and honestly, quite comical.
I started feeling dizzy. “Is this really happening?”
He moved quickly and gracefully. “Lie down.” He pulled me on top of him. My head was on his shoulder, and he was stroking my hair. He lowered his voice to a warm rumble in his chest. “When you struggle, I come through people in your life. Sometimes when you’re alone, I’m here too. I’ve done this a million times, but I couldn’t let you feel my physical body.”
Shame. I felt warm and calm in his arms. “Do all angels look like you?”
His chuckle lightened the mood. “No, you just got lucky.”
“When do you date?” I asked.
“There’s an empty time slot every night based on your geographic location. It’s a couple of hours when we have to meet with our supervisor if nothing is happening.”
“So we all freeze at midnight or something?”
“For humans, it’s one minute, but for us, it’s about two hours. Basically your time is slowed down. You’re moving, but it’s barely detectable. So if there’re no real issues and I don’t have to meet with Mona, I date a little.” He shrugged one shoulder.
“How do you meet potential dates?”
“Tinder.”
I sat up quickly. “Stop it.”
“I swear. Angels can see other angels’ wings, so when a profile pops up, we always know whether to swipe left or right.”
When I laughed, he smiled, just before his eyes darted to the ceiling. “Oh shit,” he whispered, and then he was gone.
It was jarring. My face hit the couch as Brooklyn’s voice came from the front door. “Pinky, you here?”
I’d never told her, but I resented the nickname. After all, I had contracted pink eye after staying the night in her filthy childhood bedroom.
“I’m here,” I yelled to Brooklyn. Under my breath, I said, “Lucian, if you’re here, give me a sign.” There was nothing. No warm feelings, no floating vases, no thunder or lightning in the distance.
Brooklyn came into the living room and threw her coat and purse on the couch next to me. “I thought you’d be here with what’s his face?”
“Beckett? No. The date was horrible.”
She plopped down on the green velvet chair next to the fireplace. “I told you it would happen. Only a matter of time.”
I sat up and crossed my arms, still shaken up over what I had either hallucinated or experienced moments before. I wasn’t going to tell her about Lucian, but I wondered if people knew about angels and didn’t talk about it. “Do you believe in guardian angels?”
“No. If I had a guardian angel, do you really think I would have gotten that heinous sunburn last summer in Cabo?”
“How was your night?” I asked.
“Stupid.” That meant she hadn’t gotten the attention she wanted. “I’m going to bed.” She got up and left the room. “Night, Pinky.”
I looked around for any sign that Lucian had been there. I picked up the glass from the table. I had drunk all of the wine, but there was still a red ring lining the bottom of the glass. I held it up with triumph and said, “I’m not crazy.”
“No one said you were, weirdo!” Brooklyn yelled from her bedroom.
“Good night,” I called to her as I got up and headed to my room. Inside my room, I began to undress and then stiffened. “Lucian? If you’re here, you have to tell me.”
I remembered what he’d said about not spying on me. I slowly undressed, still on edge and shaking. I got into my bed, exhausted but terrified, then I began the prayer I had said every night since I was a child. It had never held any meaning until now. It was always just a habit, a soothing mechanism my mother had taught me.
“Angel of God, my Guardian dear…”
STANDING OUTSIDE HER building, I waited until she started the prayer. I could always hear Evey, even in my thoughts. Sometimes it was like static or white noise, and then she would say something out loud that would get my attention, especially when I wasn’t with her. When that happened, I would feel a pull, an energy or force bringing me back to her.
A moment later, I was in her room, standing next to her bed. She couldn’t see me or hear me, but I was chanting the prayer with her. She was dozing off. Right at the moment that she fell asleep, I put my hand on her shoulder and she smiled faintly.
What the fuck have I done?
I knew Zack would be waiting for me outside. He only had two souls—a husband and wife in their sixties, who lived across the street from Evey and rarely left their apartment. His assignment was so easy that he actually had time to start an online sports betting ring… lucky bastard. He had something to live for, something of his own. Brooklyn’s angel, Abigail, was currently sitting on the stoop, looking at her phone. She was probably on Tinder.
“Idiot,” she mumbled as I walked by. Abigail looked like Heidi Klum, but other than that, there was nothing angelic about her.
I ignored her and headed down the block. Angels were everywhere. Most of them had several souls in one area, and most of them spent this time of night minding their own business and waiting for the magic hours to begin, which happened right before sunrise. For sixty seconds before the sun pierced the horizon, angels had two hours of freedom. It was like trying to fit your entire social life into a lunch break. Half the time I’d spend it sitting with Mona, trying to talk my way out of some mess I had gotten into.
Zack appeared beside me. I didn’t look over.
“Why are you sneaking up on me, shitbag?” I asked.
He was laughing. “You’re in so much trouble. Why are you always in trouble?”
“I haven’t done anything serious in fifty years,” I told him.
“Oh wow, nothing in fifty whole years? It’s been a century since I’ve even had a warning.”
I flew away and headed for Twenty-Fourth Street. During the magic hours, we had to check-in with our overseers before we could take off and have some fun. Zack, two other angels—Lauren and Bob—and I all had to meet with Mona. We met her at the St. Francis Fountain, a soda shop where Doug worked. Doug didn’t have any souls. He’d kept violating his probation, so they banished him to the St. Francis soda shop and hotel. The higher-ups liked to be ironic; it was part of their sick humor. During the day, Doug cleaned hotel rooms, and at night, he worked in the soda shop. He could never leave… ever! There were other angels like Doug who ran establishments during magic hours. I imagined that Mona would sentence me to some type of hell like Doug’s, but I was ready for it.
My hell was watching Evey date every guy in the city.