Stevens from months earlier that indicated both women were in the know. Eden had promised to send Cassandra a halo she had found because, as she’d written, it would give her hope. Eden definitely knew she had the real thing in hand.
Cooper had written to her, asking if he could take a look at her collection. He hadn’t given details like “Hey, I’m a Fallen and need to find my halo.” No, he didn’t want to scare her off until he could feel her out, sense if she might be worth trusting. A mortal may believe in halos, but in real angels? That was a long shot.
He clicked on the email. Campbell’s reply read: How did you get my email address? I don’t collect halos anymore. Do not contact me further.
Cooper sat back, and blew out a breath. “That’s it? No, ‘Sorry, can’t help you’? No, ‘I think I know of someone who can help’?”
He opened the file of saved emails between Cassandra and Eden and scanned them. “There.” He leaned in and began to type a reply.
What about MD?
MD were the mysterious initials Eden had mentioned in a post to Cassandra, a man who had helped her recently with the halos.
Hitting Send, Cooper hoped this trail would lead him somewhere.
Finding a halo on earth would be like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack. Only this needle was made of ineffable substance and had been lost on earth millennia ago. But if he could find someone who sought halos for a hobby, then he’d be ten steps closer to his goal than he was now.
By morning, starvation roiled Pyx’s gut. She picked up the cell phone she’d stolen, and scanned the address list. “No pizza delivery numbers.” Though a lot of spas and wine dealers were listed. She tucked the phone in a pocket and skipped down to street level.
A figure appeared in the big window on the third floor across the street. Cooper’s apartment. The sun was rising and she could plainly see the man standing in the window, gesturing she should come up.
Really?
“Don’t need to ask me twice.”
She rushed across the street. First the angel pushes her away and now he’s pulling her closer? Worked for her. Men had fallen for lesser reasons than a sexy woman.
And yet, angels had Fallen for that very reason.
Pyx smirked. “I can so work this one.”
He buzzed her in, and she navigated upward, following his scent instead of the angelic vibrations he put out. It wasn’t a particular odor she could compare to anything she had learned about the world, other than that it was simply and uniquely angel. And sexy.
“Bloody Beneath, Pyx, buck up. The angel is not sexy.”
The door opened to reveal Cooper standing in loose, dark jeans that hugged his hips. Cut muscles veed toward his jeans, pointing in a direction she couldn’t take her eyes from. Stunning, virile and—
Not sexy. Not sexy. Not … well … maybe.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah, er—” She shrugged. “For food? Yes, food. Nothing else weird, or anything.”
“No, nothing weird,” he said with a secretive smirk.
His attire made her take stock of her own. Still wearing the same blood-smeared shirt and men’s jeans and boots. She needed to do some shopping to get a feel for what women wore, and then she could assume their costume with ease.
“You inviting me in?” she asked, feeling a bit sheepish, and that feeling was so new, she went with it and shrugged her elbow up against the wall, hands tucked in her pockets.
“Why not? You were lurking.”
“Yeah, but—” Had he been watching her? Hope not, because she was the one watching him.
Cooper strode down the hallway and called over his shoulder, “Ever hear the one about keeping one’s enemies close?”
“Who said that?” Pyx wandered after him. “Some guy who took a knife in the back while his enemy was hugging him? So what’s changed? Last night you were eager to put distance between us.”
“Call it a change of heart.”
“Didn’t think an angel’s hard glass heart was capable,” Pyx said, entering the kitchen.
The high ceilings lent a feeling of vastness. Glass-fronted cabinets and black granite counter-tops gave it a modern flair. Blue and green tiles backed the counter, and gleaming appliances sat here and there.
Most significant were the stained-glass windows over the sink. The doors leading into an adjoining bedroom were also intricate stained glass; the design touted flowers, trees and peacocks.
Cooper slapped a palm over his chest where Pyx knew his heart did not beat. “You pick up a lot walking the earth. Emotions. Ideas. Humility. You’ll learn soon enough.”
“Oh, I picked up a great sandwich last night and a tattoo.”
“A tattoo?” Cooper smirked and wandered to the stovetop where a delicious scent wafted. “I’ve got crepes with fresh bananas and Nutella. That’s chocolate hazelnut spread, kind of like peanut butter, but … not.”
“Sounds fancy. You going to kill me with kindness?”
“Perhaps. So show me the tat.”
Turning and lifting the back of her shirt, Pyx displayed her artwork. Pride prickled her ego sweetly.
“A burning angel, eh?”
“You got it. Can’t wait to see you burn.”
Cooper redirected his attention to the cooking. “Nice.”
Pyx plopped onto a kitchen chair and propped her boots up on another chair. She leaned an elbow on the table. “How’s a guy who’s only been around a few weeks afford something like this? You get a job as a gigolo in those nightclubs you frequent?”
He chuckled sarcastically. “Could if I wanted to. But, no. The owner of this apartment was looking for someone to watch it during the summer while she vacations in Greece with her lover.”
“Good for you. Haven’t had to sell your body yet. I got a place, too.”
“Did you?”
“Fully furnished. Rent is paid for the month.”
She took the iPod from her pocket and switched it to video. Scanning it around the room, she recorded, for the heck of it. Zooming in on Cooper standing before the griddle, she moved the screen up and down his bare back. The muscles flexed with his motions. His skin was tan too, which appealed to her in ways she couldn’t quite process.
“It’s in the neighborhood, actually.”
“In the—” With a dripping spatula in hand, Cooper dashed into the
