"I hate it when you go away.”

“I know. I can’t help it.” His arms surrounded her in a hard hug. She sighed and finally turned in his arms. She unfurled her fingers. In her palm was a crushed lavender rose. She brought it to her nose and inhaled. The aroma stirred her memories. She ran her fingers over the silky petals and felt tears stream down her cheeks. “I can’t believe it. This has never happened before.”

“Did that come fro—?”

She nodded and set it on the counter. Emera wanted to marvel at it a little longer, but the message from the other angel rolled through her mind. She snapped her fingers, was clean, and dressed again from their pleasure-filled jaunt. “We have to find Vangelis. I have to tell him how som—”

At that moment, the door frame jingled. They both glanced over and saw Van stumble in. Emera assumed the female persona of her angelic handler would come back, but instead he was just a man. He was dressed in what used to be a white suit. Now it was torn and stained. The pants were shredded. His left eye was blackened and swollen shut. Three long scratches marred his cheek, and large gashes adorned his arms and went across his chest. Large fingerprint bruises decorated his neck. His lips were cracked and bleeding. She’d never seen an angel in this state before. Normally angels healed almost instantly when they were attacked. She and Keenan exchanged concerned looks and led the angel over to a chair.

“What happened?” Emera asked.

Keenan handed Van a glass of water, which the angel gratefully took and swallowed. “I was ambushed.”

Emera snapped her fingers. A cloth and a bowl of water appeared. She began dabbing at his wounds with the damp cloth. What in the world could have done this to him? How could he have been overpowered? He’s an angel. Even the lowest angel is able to banish a demon, no matter how powerful it is. It might not last long, but it allows the angel to get away. Unless the angel agrees to be in the presence of the demon. What is going on? “By what, a hellhound?”

“It’s nothing. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s not nothing. What happened to you?” Keenan inquired. Emera saw a flash of worry cross her lover’s face. Van tried to get up, but was unable to. Angels weren’t this vulnerable. It took a lot to hurt them this bad. “We don’t have time to question what’s wrong with me. We have to go.”

“Go where? You’re in no condition to go anywhere,” Emera argued.

Vangelis reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a manila card with red script on it. Emera grabbed it. It was identical to the ones she had been getting in the mail when Sebastian was still alive. Her gaze skimmed the address written on the invitation:

Devil’s Tavern
369 Two Forks Rd., Tumbleweed, NV