Meg was terrified. Any second now, she'd be poofed into pixie powder and all because the frosty nips angel had daddy issues. The angel glared deep into her eyes. She could almost feel the disgust he felt at touching her, even through her receptacle. I will not scream. I will not squeeze my eyes shut. I will spend my last breath laughing in his face. Because I know Lucifer will make him pay. The thought of his retribution made is almost all too easy for the sneer to break across her face. He dropped his hand from her forehead in frustration and gave an almost feral growl. Let's give this cherub something to get pissed about. She laughed cruelly. "You can't gank demons, can you? You're cut off from the home office and ya ain't got the juice," she drawled through short chuckles that barely covered her relieved panting. Keep pushing him, he's stuck in this circle with you, she chided herself. Give him a little dose of hell sweet home, cupcake. She steeled her glare. "So what can you do, you impotent sap?" The angel's emotions flew across his face almost too fast for her to read. Finally, his gaze turned to stone. "I can do this," he breathed, and his grip on her arms turned gentle, and he slowly leveled his face with hers. She couldn't begin to comprehend what the little cupid was up to. It was alarming how close he was getting to her face, but she wouldn't spasm out from his grip. His grasp was loose enough that she could veer out from under him. She would not break first. Suddenly, his hands latched tightly onto her arms and pulled with an unexpected intensity, and before she felt the ground, she felt her midsection on fire. Her screams nearly drowned out her thoughts. She felt the angel step gingerly over her, as if she would rub hell soot on his Sunday shoes. Father, she prayed, that son of a bitch cupid is mine.