Finale
taillights flashed on the most exotic sports car I’d ever seen.
“What is
that
?” I asked.
She shot me a condescending look. “My Bugatti.”
A Bugatti. Flashy, sophisticated, and in a class of its own. Just like Dabria. She dropped behind the wheel. “Might want to get that fallen angel out of your living room before your mom
gets back.” She paused. “And you might want to check the validity of your accusations.”
She started to pull her door closed, but I wrenched it back open. “Are you denying blackmailing Pepper?” I asked angrily. “I saw the two of you arguing behind the Devil’s
Handbag.”
Dabria wrapped a silk driving scarf around her head, flinging the ends over her shoulders. “You shouldn’t eavesdrop, Nora. And Pepper is one archangel you’d do well to stay
away from. He doesn’t play nice.”
“Neither do I.”
She locked eyes with me. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Pepper searched me out that night because he knows I have connections to Patch. He’s looking for Patch, and
mistakenly thought I’d help him.” She started the ignition, flooring the gas to drown out my response.
I glared at Dabria, not buying that her interaction with Pepper had been that innocent. Dabria had a solid track record of lying. On top of that, we had bad blood. She stood as an awful reminder
that Patch had been with someone before me. It wouldn’t have been so nettling if she would stay in his past where she belonged. Instead she kept popping up like the villain with multiple
lives in a slasher film.
“You’re a poor judge of character,” she said, thrusting the Bugatti in gear.
I leaped to the front bumper, slamming my palms on the hood. I wasn’t finished with her yet. “When it comes to you, I’m not wrong,” I called over the engine.
“You’re a conniving, backstabbing, selfish, and egotistical narcissist.”
Dabria’s jaw clenched visibly. She smoothed a few flyaways off her face, shoved out of the car, and stalked over to me. In heels, she matched my height. “I want to clear
Patch’s name too, you know,” she said in her witch-cool voice.
“Now there’s an Oscar-worthy line.”
She stared at me. “I told Patch you were immature and impulsive and couldn’t get over your jealousy of what he and I had long enough to make this work.”
My cheeks flushed, and I grabbed her arm before she could avoid me. “Don’t talk to Patch about me again. What’s more, don’t talk to him period.”
“Patch trusts me. That should be good enough for you.”
“Patch doesn’t trust you. He’s using you. He’ll string you along, but in the end, you’re expendable. The minute you’re no longer useful, it’s
over.”
Dabria’s mouth pinched into something ugly. “Since we’re giving each other advice, here’s mine. Get off my back.” Her eyes raked over me warningly.
She was threatening me.
She had something to hide.
I was going to dig up her secret, and I was going to bring her down.
C HAPTER
22
T URNING AWAY FROM THE ROAD DUST DABRIA’S tires kicked up, I jogged back inside. My mom would be home any minute
now, and not only would I have some serious explaining to do about the party’s abrupt ending, but I needed to dump Baruch’s body. If he truly believed I’d rammed a poker into his
wing scars, he’d resign his body to a near-comatose state for several more hours, making moving it considerably easier. Finally, a lucky break.
I found Patch in the living room, crouched over Baruch’s body. Relief surged through me at the sight of him. “Patch!” I exclaimed, running over.
“Angel.” His face was etched with worry. He rose to his feet, opening his arms as I flung myself into them. He squeezed me hard.
I nodded to alleviate any concern he might have over my well-being, and swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’m fine. I’m not hurt. I mind-tricked him into thinking there was a
Nephilim raid. And I made him believe I jammed a poker into his scars for good measure.” I blew out a shaky sigh. “How did you know fallen angels crashed the party?”
“Your mom kicked me out, but I wasn’t going to leave you unprotected. I took up guard down the street. There was a lot of traffic heading toward your place, but I assumed it was for
the party. When I saw people running out the front door looking like they’d seen a monster, I came as fast as I could. There was a fallen angel standing guard outside your door who thought
I’d
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