Something More Than Night
“I was glad they hadn’t tossed me in the cooler; I wanted to owe Uriel bail money about as much as I wanted another hole drilled into my head. Owing favors to a Seraph is a bit like owing a shark dinner: sooner or later, it costs an arm and a leg.
But I was already in dutch. She’d sprung me. As to why, I couldn’t begin to guess. I liked this not very much. As tired as I was of the Thrones’ broken-record act, at least I understood their angle. But I didn’t have a line on Uriel’s play.
They returned. The bulls announced they were letting me go. I could tell this wasn’t their idea, and that they liked it not very much. Lots of that going around recently. But the Seraphim draw a lot of water in this town, so what Uriel wants, Uriel gets. Even if that means a penny-ante keyhole peeper like me.
She looked me over. “You’re looking better already.”
I straightened my collar. “Let’s dust, angel.”
She elbowed past the Thrones on the way out. I gave them a wink. One grabbed me by the arm.
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