Tied securely to the chair, Sam was helpless.
Helpless. Not afraid. Fury searing through him, face expressionless, he worked doggedly to reach the knife in his sleeve.
And Zachariah? Well, angels are generally passionless. Neuter. Incapable of any emotion beyond satisfaction at a job well done. Or, conversely, dissatisfaction when things went belly up.
Today, though, the angel had a look on his fleshy face that was as close to happiness as his kind ever got.
"I'd like to kill you," he beamed. "But that's just not in the cards. So how about if I just have a little fun?"