“Tell me, Naya, is it a coincidence that you picked Emmy Rogers?”
Eyes steady on mine, she replied with a single syllable: “No.”
Chapter 2
Naya
I squared my shoulders as Adam’s green eyes narrowed some more.
If Apa found out why I’d sought out his best friend’s son, he’d kill me. Not literally, of course. As long as I had wing bones, I was unmurderable. Besides, my father wasn’t the murderous type. He’d just tell me how disappointed he was in me and how he’d raised me to be above rule-breaking, then remind me how close I was to my thousand-feather goal.
Since my birth, I’d abided by all of my parents’ rules, all of the worlds’ rules, and earned feather after feather to prove my worth. It wasn’t that I was done being a good girl, I was just ready to be a better one.
“You’re not here for Emmy, are you?” Adam’s breath slipped through the slender divide between our bodies.
“I did sign up to her, but you’re right, I’m not here for Emmy. I’m here for you.”
His pupils dilated, swallowing his colorful irises until only a slender emerald ring remained. “Ha. I knew it.”
The fletching I’d cornered about Adam had warned me he wouldn’t take well to my visit; he’d failed to mention the size of the boy’s ego. “Conceited, much?”
Adam smiled, flashing me a single dimple and another wing-load of arrogance. “Let’s cut the pleasantries.”
“Not much of our interaction was pleasant,” I interjected sweetly, which increased the camber of his lips and deepened his dimple.
“What is it you want from me, Naya Moreau?”
“In. I want in.”
“In?” He seemed to grow stiller, taller. “You’ll have to elaborate. In my old apartment? In my circle of acquaintances? In my bed?”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. I mean . . . really? He thought I’d come all this way for a hook-up? Not to mention he had a girlfriend, who, from the creak of the first-floor landing and the jingle of metal, was on her way back down with the keys of the apartment I’d overpaid to live in for a month.
I took a step back from the tall male. “Noah directed me to Dov who directed me to you.”
Dropping his best friend’s name and the ascended in charge had the intended effect—Adam’s smugness wilted. “You met Dov?”
“I did.”
He dropped his voice to a rough whisper. “And he’s on board with letting a seraphim’s daughter join the fold?”
“I’m here, am I not?”
“Everything all right?” Emmy regarded me with slanted brows.
“Yes.” I smiled. “I was just telling Adam that I ran into his best friend in Stockholm, and he says hello. Or rather, hej.”
The vein at Adam’s temple was throbbing hard.
“So you two know each other?” Emmy wrapped her arm around Adam’s waist as though to remind me he was hers.
“No, but our fathers are best friends.” I snagged a strand of hair that had gotten wedged between my silk bomber and handbag straps and set it free.
“Your dads are best friends, but you’ve never met?”
Adam’s tendons flexed along his neck. “We have not had the pleasure.”
Emmy blinked. In truth, I, too, found it odd that we’d never crossed paths. Especially since I knew Tobias and Gabriel well. Especially Tobias.
Two years ago, I’d asked Ama about Adam and why he never came along to family guild events. In usual Celeste-fashion, she’d smirked and replied, Starlight, consider yourself lucky you’ve met any boys. If it was up to your father, he’d keep you stowed away until you were at least a century old.
I’d sighed then and still sighed now, because my father was tremendously protective and did his best to drive potential suitors away from me. Since he was one of the Seven, his best was very effective. Boys looked at me, but none ever dared approach. My bestie Raven told me there was even a rumor flying around the guilds and Elysium that if anyone so much as laid a finger on me, they’d be assigned to Abaddon the second they ascended. How anyone believed this was beyond me, but my father could act mighty frightening at times.
I sidestepped the couple standing rigidly before me and walked over to the only door on this floor.
“The apartment’s one level down.” Emmy nodded to the staircase.
My forehead crimped. “I thought it had a garden and lots of natural light?” Just because I was planning on using the rental as an operational base didn’t mean I wanted to live in a dank basement.
Adam made a sound that got under my skin. “You’re better off going home, princess.”
Home was not a possibility, since it was filled with hawk-eyed busybodies, and this new endeavor of mine would crash and burn before takeoff if anyone caught wind of it.
Emmy cocked an eyebrow. “Princess? You’re royalty?”
I leveled a glare at Adam. “No.”
Over the years, I’d heard Tobias’s son described by many angels in many ways. The three most prevalent adjectives had been: conceited, tall, and gruff. Some people were generous enough to call him handsome. In my opinion, his features were all too large and dark. Except his eyes. Those were vibrant, but so calculating they may as well have been black like his wings.
“Follow me.” Emmy trundled down the stairs ahead of me. There were two doors on this lower floor. She nodded to the one baring shiny fawn paint that was peeling in places, then inserted a huge key and twisted. The door opened swiftly but considering its thinness, it would’ve probably opened with an elbow jab.
She flicked on the lights, and a papier-maché ceiling lamp flared to life.
“Through here’s the kitchenette.” Emmy pointed out an ochre-tiled closet with a small white fridge, a toaster-oven, and a sink. “Bathroom’s over on this side.” She nodded to the door opposite the kitchen before striding into a square space with sliding glass doors, a laminated white dresser, a queen-size bed, and rolling racks outfitted with bare hangers. “Did you bring the down-payment in cash like I asked?”
I slid the envelope containing my monthly guild allowance from my jacket pocket and into her hand.
She peeked inside, counted the hundred-pound notes, then stuffed the envelope in the back pocket of her white jeans. “Fresh bedsheets are in the dresser. Towels, too. There’s a utility room equipped with a washer and dryer down the hall. You’ll have to buy your own detergent. Wi-Fi’s free, though. The password’s emmyrogers111, all in lowercase.” She started back toward the door but stopped when she noticed Adam wasn’t following. “Coming?”
“Just going to have a look around.”
“I can wait.”
His jaw twitched. “I’ll be right up.”
Emmy’s expression stiffened. She stared at Adam, then at me, then back at him and flipped around, her ponytail swishing through the air. Since she hadn’t closed the door, the creak of the stairs penetrated right inside the doll-sized space.
A minute later, a door thwacked closed. Adam walked over to the commode and methodically hooked his long fingers around the knobs, slid the drawers open, shut them, never once removing his gaze from my face.