She only had one. Maccus got four filled with everything from waffles to eggs and toast and, of course, bacon.
“You need anything else?” the waitress asked.
“We’re good,” he told her.
“Sure you’ve got enough?”
One corner of his mouth quirked the slightest bit upward. Morrigan held her breath and waited, but the smile never appeared. “Need to keep up my energy.”
Pointedly ignoring the sexual innuendo, she flooded her pancakes with syrup before taking her first bite. Delicious. “So what’s the plan?” she asked as she chewed.
She hoped he had one. She sure as heck didn’t.
“We enjoy our meal. Someone will show up eventually.”
She shrugged, not nearly as confident as he was, but she wasn’t about to let worry spoil her appetite. She was itching to ask about his past, what it was like being an angel, how he’d ended up falling, but that wasn’t the kind of thing you just asked a guy, even if you’d had sex with him.
Still, the curiosity gnawed at her. There was so much she didn’t know about him. “So,” she began but stopped when the door opened. She carefully put down her fork. A man walked in, a blast of power preceding him.
Big and blond, his intense blue eyes missed nothing as they swept the room. The dress shirt he wore with a pair of faded blue jeans was so white it seemed to glow. He also didn’t seem to be the least bit interested in Maccus as he wove his way toward them. No, his attention was all on her.
What little she’d eaten curdled in her stomach while her brain flashed a warning sign. Danger!
The humans in the diner shifted uneasily. Their instincts hadn’t totally deserted them. Several threw some money on their table and left, while others seemed too enthralled to move.
“This wasn’t what I’d expected,” the man said when he casually stopped alongside their table. She hated being pinned into the corner, unable to get to her weapons quickly. Ever so slowly, so as not to attract attention, she drew the blade, keeping it tucked down by her thigh. It was better than nothing.
Maccus kept on eating, supremely uninterested in and unconcerned by their visitor. A quick jab in the ribs from her elbow, and he sighed and set down his fork and knife. “You’re interrupting my breakfast,” he told the man. “This is the second morning you’ve disrupted my first cup of coffee.”
“You’ll just have to forgive me.” The sarcasm was so cutting she was surprised Maccus wasn’t bleeding.
“No, I don’t.” It took her a second to realize he was telling this man he didn’t have to forgive him.
“We had a contract.”
Holy shit! This was the archangel, Gabriel. A Catholic in her previous life, she had the overwhelming urge to cross herself. Except this angel had put out a hit on her. Kinda put a damper on her first encounter with a real angelic being.
“I haven’t signed it.” Maccus picked up his coffee and sipped.
Frustration bled from the angel, but he made no move toward her. Which really surprised her. As an angel, he could kill her without breaking a sweat. Why then was he trying to hire Maccus?
Feeling a little safer, she relaxed, but only slightly. Things could change in a heartbeat. It was always best to be ready. But it was also a smart tactic to make her opponent angry. Angry men made mistakes. Didn’t matter if they were human, demon, or angel.
She picked up her coffee like she didn’t have a care in the world and managed to swallow the tiniest sip. Any bigger and she’d choke on it.
“Why haven’t you?” A muscle pulsed just beneath Gabriel’s eye, and his jaw clenched. Yup, he was getting irritated, but now all his attention was on Maccus.
The fallen angel leaned back and shrugged. “Call me curious. Why the contract for Morrigan? And why does Lucifer want her to kill me?”
Gabriel frowned. “Lucifer sent her to kill you?” Then he laughed. The bastard had the nerve to laugh. “I should send him a thank-you card, maybe some flowers or a fruit basket for making things easier for me.”
It was official. She hated angels just as much as she did demons. They all sucked. Except for Maccus. In spite of everything, she did like him, which wasn’t healthy, but it was all a matter of degrees.
A bead of sweat rolled down her back. It wasn’t easy to stay calm when an archangel and a fallen angel assassin discussed her death with her sitting right here.
Maccus gripped her thigh under the table and gave a light squeeze before releasing her. Was he trying to comfort her? Doubtful. Most likely, he was warning her not to do something rash or stupid.
And he was right. She was about thirty seconds from going over the table and stabbing the angel in the eye. It wouldn’t kill him, but it would damn well hurt while he was healing.
“I’ll take her from here.” The angel was nothing if not arrogant if he thought she was just going to go meekly with him like some lamb to the slaughter. But wasn’t that what she’d done with Lucifer?
No, she’d been protecting her sister—or, at least, had believed so.
She slid her other hand beneath her jacket, withdrew her gun, and held it low. A confrontation here would be bad. They didn’t need the cops involved.
“No.” Maccus said nothing more. She’d half expected him to hand her over and wipe his hands of the situation. If she were in his shoes, she probably would have.
“No?” Gabriel seemed as perplexed as she was. “What do you mean, no?”
“It means you can’t have her. I’m not done with her yet.”
Okay, that could be good or bad. Morrigan couldn’t be certain. But any time she gained could be used to help figure a way out of this situation.
As long as I’m alive, there’s hope.
Then the front door to the diner was shoved open, and a man stepped inside. Her heart sank, her stomach clenched, and hope died a quick death. She had to work to control her breath, to keep from jumping up and running away while screaming her lungs out.
Dressed in one of his custom suits with a red tie and handmade leather shoes, Lucifer strolled across the diner like he owned it. And maybe he did. The devil had myriad business interests all over the world.
He glanced at the angel and Maccus before finally settling his gaze on her. “Seems you haven’t been doing your job.”
Chapter Eight
Maccus was intrigued. He’d half expected Gabriel to send an underling, not show himself. It was more his style to delegate. The angel had not only brought the contract himself, but now Lucifer had joined them.
Every instinct that had kept him alive when he should have perished screamed that Morrigan was to be protected at all costs. Whatever was going on between these two, she was at the center of it. That made her valuable.