And a part of me kind of likes it.
Pull yourself together, Trin, I tell myself sternly. You’re a warrior. You’re a badass bitch.
I’m aware that my language has definitely gotten a lot more coarse since I started spending time with the sins, but there’s something powerful and fortifying about curse words.
And right now, I need all the fortification I can get.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Trinity
I fix up my hair and makeup and make sure that I’m all done up in my dress, even if I’m still not sure that I look all that good in it. But whether I can pull this look off or not is a moot point now, because we’ve got to go.
“Angel, we don’t have all day,” Beckett calls a while later from the living room. “I know time moves differently up Above, but sometime this millennium would be ideal.”
I slip my high heels on—oh, sheesh, I am not used to doing that, please don’t let me fall over—and walk out to join the four men. “Okay, okay. I’m ready.”
Beckett is standing near the window wearing a tuxedo. All of them are in tuxedos, actually, although I notice some subtle differences in each one, such as in the lining. Beckett’s lining is green, Ford’s is red, Remington’s is pink, and Phoenix’s is blue. They all look far too handsome for their own good—or, rather, for mine. I need to stop being so attracted to all of them and focus.
I’m busy trying to calm myself, so it takes me a moment to realize that all the men are staring at me.
Ford’s jaw is tight, although he doesn’t have the same surprised expression on his face as the others—which makes sense, seeing as how he already saw me in my bedroom. He’s the reason I took so long getting ready, since I basically had to do it all over again after he wrecked my hair and makeup.
But the other three? They look…
Oh, for goodness’ sake, it doesn’t matter how they’re looking at me! Why should I care if they’re gazing at me as if they’ve never seen anything quite like me before? As if I’ve knocked them into stunned silence?
I don’t care what their opinion of me is. And I still feel ridiculous in this dress. So there.
“Can we go?” I ask when the quiet stretches on and it looks like none of the men are going to stop staring at me with unreadable expressions on their faces.
Beckett seems to snap out of it first. He glares down at the floor, obviously irritated that I’ve affected him at all.
“Yes. Of course. We should head out.” He then glares at the other three, like it’s their fault we’re not moving.
“Shall we?” Remington steps forward, offering me his arm.
It’s such a gentlemanly, chivalrous gesture—so different from the dirty things he did to me earlier today. Somehow, the contrast between those two sides of him warms my chest, and despite the nerves buzzing inside me, I slip my arm through his.
We take the elevator down to the garage, and as we drive to our destination, my nervousness grows until my hands are actually shaking.
I’m not ready for this. Not at all. I have no idea what’s in store for me, and I really don’t know if I’m up for it.
We roll up to what looks like a perfectly normal, perfectly boring nursery—the type for plants, not the type for babies. I’m not sure why a plant store, of all things, is where these people felt the need to hide their casino entrance, but once we get inside, I realize why.
Horses do need grass to graze on and space to run around, after all.
“Oh my goodness,” I whisper as we step inside the large greenhouse and a pegasus comes trotting toward us.
The creature looks like a large, well-groomed horse—except unlike regular horses, this one has magnificent, beautiful wings. As I stare in awe, I catch sight of several other pegasi behind him walking around the greenhouse, which seems to be bigger on the inside than on the outside. There’s a sleek black one with feathers that gleam like a midnight sky, a dappled one with wings that look like a speckled eggshell, and a pure white one with wings similar to mine.
They’re gorgeous. I’ve never seen anything like them.
A small pang of sadness twists my stomach at the thought.
I’ve been living on Earth for thirty years, but it seems like there’s so much I’ve missed out on down here. So much I haven’t seen or done.
Beckett speaks to some man who appears to be in charge, although I don’t think he’s a human man—or at least, not entirely human. There’s something about him that seems off, something about the way he moves. I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s like he’s imitating human movements, rather than actually doing them because it’s natural for him. Sort of like the bug-alien living in Vincent D’Onofrio’s body in Men in Black.
“We’ll each need to take one,” Remington explains quietly to me. “The casino is up in the clouds, kept aloft by magic and… something to do with magnets. I’m not sure how it works. But it’s a combination of science and magic.”
I glance over at him, wide-eyed. I could just fly up to this casino, if it’s really up in the air like that. My wings would definitely carry me. But they’ve got to have some kind of security in place to prevent people from entering the casino in a non-sanctioned way, and using my wings would out me as an angel immediately. The main point of our mission is to slip in undercover, after all.
Beckett strides back to us. “All right, we’ve got passage. Let’s all try to behave ourselves while we’re there, shall we?” He looks pointedly at Ford, but then, to my surprise, his gaze shifts to Remington—who, if you ask me, is the best behaved out of all of them.
Remington gets an adorably sheepish look on his face and shrugs. “Gamblers are gluttons,” he explains.
Ah, that makes sense.
A pegasus is brought to each of us, and I’m given the beautiful black one. I stroke her neck, feeling the warmth of her and the softness of her hide. “You’re beautiful,” I coo softly. “You like having wings? It’s pretty great, right?”
She huffs a soft whinny, and I smile, petting her nose.
When I turn to climb up onto her, I find the four men looking at me. I can’t read their expressions, but I feel warmth flutter in my stomach all the same.
Remington looks like he might move forward to help me—I’ve never been on a horse before, and the prospect of climbing onto one in a dress is rather daunting—but to my surprise, Beckett steps forward instead. “Here.”
He lifts me up and helps me swing a leg over so that I’m properly seated. The high slit in the dress accommodates the movement, but it reveals a large swath of my thigh in the process. Beckett’s gaze drops to my leg, and his grip tightens on my waist for a moment. Then he quickly retracts his hands and strides over to his own pegasus.
The not-quite-human caretaker makes an odd, insect-like clicking noise with his mouth, and the pegasi politely trot out through the back of the large greenhouse, the reins and halters glowing, and with a mighty flap of their wings, they launch themselves into the sky.
I’m not sure, but I think the halters and reins have something to do with keeping them invisible as we swoop and circle upward. It’s exhilarating—almost but not quite like when I’m flying myself—and I whoop a little, a wide grin spreading over my face. I really don’t love anything as much as I love flying.