By Becca Fitzpatrick
Nora may still be aware of higher than to imagine her existence can go back to common after falling in love with a fallen angel. And Nora's lifestyles isn't really general - her dad used to be murdered, and the evidence approximately his demise simply do not upload up. Now Nora's personal existence is in approaching probability. Are she and Patch powerful sufficient for the conflict forward?
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Vee said, her tone edging toward defensive. I smiled. ” “Mission accomplished. ” I gave her a conspirator’s smile. ” Vee’s resistant tone dropped away, and she mirrored my smile. “His name is Rixon, and he’s Irish. His brogue or whatever it’s called kills me. Sexy to the max. ” “Rixon? No way! ” As a standard rule, I didn’t trust fallen angels, but Rixon was an exception. Like Patch, his moral boundaries were drawn in the gray area between black and white. He wasn’t perfect, but he wasn’t all bad, either.
He studied me a moment, then reached behind his neck and unclasped the plain silver chain he’d worn since the day I met him. I had no idea where the chain had come from, or the significance behind it, but I sensed it was important to him. It was the only piece of jewelry he wore, and he kept it tucked under his shirt, next to his skin. I’d never seen him take it off. His hands slid to the nape of my neck, where he fastened the chain. The metal fell on my skin, still warm from him. “I was given this when I was an archangel,” he said.
I froze with my hand on the door handle. Vee and I had long ago given up educating small-minded people that “fat” and “curvy” are not the same thing, but that didn’t mean we tolerated the ignorance. And I would have gladly called Vee for a ride, but she’d been invited to attend a training meeting for hopeful editors of the school’s eZine and was already at school. ” I gave Marcie’s door a shove, locking it back in position. Marcie tried on a confused face. “Are you offended I called her fat? Because it’s true.