Steel

Chapter 28

"Where's my favorite cold hearted bitch?" A snarky voice echoed off the cement walls of the warehouse basement Michael had instructed us to meet at. Apparently the warehouse had been built on the remains of an old church, so the ground was still considered sacred. The warehouse above ground was still being used to house whatever things the current owner needed it for, but below ground belonged to the church as far as we were concerned.

I spun around on my heel, a grin spreading on my lips as my eyes met Siena's. Her bronze eyes were glittering with flecks of gold- evidence that for whatever reason, her soul was close to the surface. Half of her hair was tightly braided back with golden rings intertwined into it, and the other half let loose. Her golden battle suit glittered in the dim lighting, almost looking like fire shimmering beneath the black plates of armor.

"If it isn't my favorite temperamental asshole," I quipped back playfully, earning a giggle from her as she wrapped her arms tightly around me and squeezed. "How was Scotland?"

"Great. Guess how many Scotsmen I drank under the table," she urged with a wiggle of her brows. I rolled my eyes, knowing that the number was obviously absurdly high.

"You do recall I didn't send you there to partake in drinking games, Siena," Michael cleared his throat from behind me. Siena pulled back from our embrace and narrowed her gilded eyes at him.

"Stop being such a buzzkill, Mikey," she snapped back.

Michael huffed in annoyance, but wisely chose not to engage. "We have business to attend to. Has anybody seen Zadkiel? Ravenna?" He questioned tightly.

"I thought Zadkiel was with you?" I furrowed my brows in confusion, turning to look back at Siena.

"He is. He's running late. I wanted this catered," she shrugged nonchalantly, flicking her bronze hair over her shoulder.

"Catered?" Barachiel choked.

"Uh yeah. If you expect me to be here more than a few hours, I need food," Siena shot back, as if daring him to disagree. Barachiel seemed to ponder this logic for a moment before deciding it was sound and nodding in agreement.

"Fine. Ravenna?" Michael folded his arms sternly across his chest, eyes darting between each of us. Nobody said a word. Where was Ravenna?

"Are you sure she got the message? She's a Demon, right? Maybe she doesn't get the same prayer FM station," Siena suggested snarkily and I elbowed her in the ribs, earning a hiss from her sharp lips.

"Found her," I heard Grey's voice echo across the cement walls from behind me and I spun around to face him. Clad in his battle suit that dazzled like fiery ashes from a volcano, he strode into the room. A lock of his dark hair had fallen across his eyes, and the muscles in his body were all taut as if he had just landed from flying. Perhaps he had. Footsteps clanged down the metal staircase behind him and my eyes followed.

Grey had been right about Ravenna having wings. They were curled against her back, but I could still see how massive they were. They were pitch black and appeared to be as smooth as silk, aside from the single claw that adorned the top of each wing, curling inwards towards her like little devil horns. The translucent skin between the bones of her wings shimmered like oil in the dim light. Why had I never seen them before?

Barachiel let out a low whistle and Ravenna's steely expression shattered into the familiar friendly smile I now knew so well. "Nice wings, Rav," Barachiel hummed and Ravenna chuckled.

"Thanks, Bar. It's nice to finally be able to use them again," she let out a sigh of relief, walking over to Siena and I and giving us both hugs.

"I didn't even know you had wings," I shook my head at her and she shrugged nonchalantly.