Page 40 of Angel's Smoke

Before Anna could say hi again, her words were cut off when Iron spoke in her ear. “We’ll be on their team. They’re the least stressful to play with. Of all the characters I’ve introduced thus far, these two are the only ones who know this is still just a game. No pressure. Just fun.”

“It’s wonderful to meet all of you.”

Bridget smiled at her. “Likewise. Would you like something to drink? They have really good mocktails here.”

Anna shot Iron a questioning look, which he addressed with a single nod. “They’re aware.”

She dipped her head low so only he could hear. “Were you gossiping about me?”

His beard brushed against the shell of her ear as he replied, “You’re the first female I’ve ever introduced them to, and secrets don’t fly among our soul-bound family. Not anymore, at least. We’ve had to learn and grow on that front and have no interest in repeating mistakes. That means everyone you see here is protected, including your baby.”

Steel piped up. “Tell me about it. Talk to Bridget if you need more horror stories on secrets.” He shuddered in mock affront, and Anna raised a brow at Iron.

“Celestial senses,” Iron added matter-of-factly. “Sound travels fast for us.”

“Ah, got it. In that case, sure, I’ll have a drink.”I can’t inadvertently say something stupid if there’s a straw in my mouth.

Bridget slid her a menu, and Anna selected something with blood orange, sparkling coconut water—that was new—and yuzu.

The emcee took the stage, which was just a section of floor that had hardwood as opposed to laminate, and grabbed the microphone. “All right, my friends, it’s time to get the party started! Great to see so many of you here tonight. Let’s begin by going through the evening’s categor—” The sound cut out, a scratchytsewmppopped through the two amps stationed at the front, and the overhead lights above the whiteboard began to flicker.

A few tables over, the white shock of Clara’s hair fell forward as she bent toward Bronze. “Oops. Sorry.”

The auburn-haired angel smiled wide and lifted her knuckles to his lips. “You’re always stealing the show.”

“Okay, that was weird,” the emcee said. “No matter, I’ll just—what do they call it in theater classes?—not yell . . . ah, project! Can everybody hear me all right?” After several nods from the room gave him his greenlight, he announced the categories, and they were off to the races. “The first category issuperheroes.Who is the leader of the Avengers?”

Bridget and Steel had an answer down before any of the tables around them had finished deliberating, which was fine with Anna, while Drea, Rose, and Chrome were locked in some sort of heated debate over source material. When time was called, teams threw up their cards. Anna’s team guessed Iron Man, which was correct.

Chrome, however, waved his card proclaiming Captain America as their answer at the emcee. “Hey, are we basing the answer off screen adaptations here or the comic books? Because if we’re talking about the Marvel Cinematic Universe, there were entire movies and subsequent plot lines devoted to the ambiguity of the Avengers’ leadership.”

Then Rose stood up. “Yeah, and how long are the terms of leadership we’re talking about? I can literally think of a time when every single character in the original comics took on the Avengers mantle of leadership. So, are we talking over the course of a battle, a mission, a day, years? It really is unclear.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Here we go.” Iron knocked back his beer, gestured to the waiter for another, and returned his attention to Anna, as if he were gauging her tolerance for ass-hattery.

He needn’t have worried, and she smiled to let him know as much.

This was freakingwonderful.

Over the course of ten rounds, one wild card battle, and a bracketed system that included several complicated knock-out sequences, Anna’s cheeks had found their new happy place supporting the wings of her smile. The drinks were yummy and the verbal battles more than entertaining, but that wasn’t what had her skin tingling and dopamine flowing.

Somewhere near the fifth round, Iron’s hand had taken a particular liking to hers. It started with gentle bumps and brushes whenever he’d slide her a napkin. Then those gestures turned into something more than simple courtesies. When she’d spent too long gripping her drink and she’d pull her hand away to wipe the condensation off her fingers and warm them up, he was already there holding out his palm to her. She’d give him her hand, and slowly, gingerly, he’d rub and dry away any traces of chilled wetness.

The contact was in everything he did, even when it wasn’t as apparent as touching. The way his arm was already bracketed behind her seat when she’d return from the bathroom. The new drink he always made sure took the place of her empty one, with special attention paid to ensuring the straw was facing her and that the drink wasn’t too close to the edge of the table lest she accidentally bump it. His unspoken removal and acceptance of her coat after she’d unbuttoned it, even though she’d been afraid to remove it for fear of exposing her clumsiness to her new friends and knocking into the table, sending her drink spilling across the response cards.

If Travis had been consumed with convenience, Iron was consumed with acts of service. With each small, warm kindness the angel showed her, the layers of ice that had dammed up around her heart slowly began to thaw, until she found herself reaching for his touch, craving it and all the promise it offered.

“Fuck,” Chrome bellowed as the winning team—Anna’s table—was announced.

Drea’s palm collided with the back of Chrome’s head before thekin his curse had the chance to run free. “Don’t swear in front of the baby,” she hissed, then slanted an apologetic look Anna’s way.

“It’s fine,” she replied, patting her belly for reassurance. “I’m fairly certain its ears aren’t fully formed yet. Though, I’ll find out tomorrow.”

The look of relief erasing Drea’s admittedly inebriated concern was heartwarming on so many levels. Iron had explained how Drea’s former life was lived as a messenger mage in the Empyrean. Between her time there and her largely controlled interactions in the mortal world before she’d mated Chrome, she had relatively little knowledge about babies and fetal development.

“See,” Chrome said, gesturing to Anna. “It’s fine!”

Iron leaned close. “What’s tomorrow?”

---