They leapt down from the balcony together, Edvardiel using his glory to slow their fall. The warmth spread from his palm into hers, and she couldn't describe the sensation his glory made her feel: Freedom. First love. Joy. It was as though the sheer power of those feelings were the very thing that made her float.

"Seraph," she said as they landed. "I mean—" God, it was hard to shake the habit.

"It's fine, Issa." His angelic glow was healthy and bright once more, his smile radiant, and Issa thought she finally understood the awe of being in the presence of a heavenly being.

He let her hand go and she curled it into a fist at her side, already missing his warmth.

"Edvardiel," she tried again. "I know your problem." She stepped closer and zipped up his jacket, wishing she'd found a scarf for him. "It's the cold. It was cold both times you collapsed."

His hair fluttered in the icy wind, his flame eyes widening with surprise. "I think you're right."

"I know I am." Issa looked around. "I think the clothing store was somewhere nearby. We should get you more clothes before we go. This way."

An odd emotion strained through their bond as he followed her. Not quite defeat, not quite shame. She was so used to emotional extremes—in both herself and her Keeper—that the subtle ones confused her. It took her several minutes of pondering to name it.

Inadequacy.

Not good enough for Heaven, he'd said.

Issa whirled around to face him as they stopped before the clothing store. "Are you feeling bad about fainting in the cold?"

Edvardiel froze, looking like a deer in headlights.

"Do angels make each other feel bad for their weaknesses?" she asked. "Is there some kind of gladiator ring in Heaven where you guys compete to make it into the Book of Angels?"

He finally found his tongue. "Excuse me?"

"Just wondering," she said.

"Where is this coming from?"

Issa thumped her chest. "I feel you here," she said. "I'm your Acolyte. I feel everything you feel."

Edvardiel's face was a sight to watch. His glow sputtered from gold to red to green before finally settling on white. "What?"

Issa looked at him uncertainly. "I feel everything you feel," she said. "Well, not everything, because I'm not always paying attention to every little thing you feel, but you know… yeah."

"You didn't tell me about this."

"You basically agreed to share your limited life force with a murderous kidnapper through a bond forged by the devil herself," she said. "I thought this would be the least of your concerns. Besides, I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

Edvardiel rubbed his temples and sighed. "Let's just go in and get the clothes."

By the time she'd finished packing Edvardiel in scarves, gloves, socks, boots and more pullovers, he looked like a penguin.

"Um, Issa?" he said, holding up his thickly padded arms. "I can barely walk in all this."

"At least you're not going to faint. I'm tired of carrying you."

He looked at her. "What about you?"

Issa caught sight of herself in the store mirror. Her dress was almost completely torn away, gaping at the front and back, her body covered only by the bloodstained strips of angel robes.

She looked, as always, breathtaking. Young and innocent. Alluring and sensuous. All of it at the same time—Lilith's perfect snare.

Ravishing, a lord once told her, right before she'd slit his throat.

Such a beauty. A perfectly manicured hand had tilted her chin up, right before she'd broken every jewel-encrusted finger.

Angel, the little girl had said, looking up at her with awe. The single soul she'd saved amidst the sea of those she'd slain. Issa fervently hoped she'd escaped and survived.

Angel.

"I have your glow now," she said, examining herself in the mirror.

"You've always looked like that," he said.

"Like what?" She looked at him through her lashes, fluttering them for dramatic effect.

But Edvardiel's answer was sincere. "Divine," he said. "Like you descended from Heaven."

Issa laughed. "You must've hit your head on the way down to earth. You're an angel. Seraphim. And I'm a… I'm a mass murderer." That came out far darker than she intended.

Edvardiel picked up a pale pink scarf and wrapped it around her neck, his fingers leaving a trail of fire where it brushed her collarbones. "Do you truly believe angels don't kill?" he said softly.

Issa turned that in her mind. "I guess they kill demons. So, you know, shit like the Apocalypse doesn't happen."

He swept a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I killed an angel."

His breath tickled her skin. He was so close that she could see the glory flickering in his inky eyes.

"No, you didn't." She could hardly breathe.

"I did." He looped the ends of the scarf together, still holding her gaze. "I killed him with my own free will."

She wouldn't have believed it if she didn't feel his truth. "Why?"

A myriad of emotions flickered through their bond. Anger, hurt, betrayal. And then regret. Edvardiel turned away and selected a long jacket.

"I thought it was the right thing to do."

He draped the jacket around her shoulders. "We should go, Issa. I don't know how long my glory will last since Heaven has cut me off."

And just like that, she understood that he'd shared a piece of his soul. The same way she had by telling him about Yassper. She wasn't sure how to react, but he spoke first.

"You said you weren't friends with any of your Keepers," he said. "I don't expect us to be friends, considering the circumstances, but I hope we'll have something of a… civil working relationship."

That made her snort. "Seraph, I think we were past the point of civil the moment I tried to drag you to the devil's den." Civil working relationship indeed. What were they doing—selling insurance? She stepped closer. "You saved my life four times. I owe you."

Edvardiel's lips curved. "I think we're even." He looked down at his pullovers and jackets. "I never realised it was the cold."

Issa felt smug. "You hit the jackpot. You won't find a smarter Acolyte."

"Your humility blows me away."

"Facts, my Keeper. I'm stating facts." There was a reason Lilith hadn't killed her despite her constant insubordination. She gazed at him. "I want to be friends." Friends with benefits, more like, but she decided she liked the angel too much to corrupt him. She'd make sure she did everything possible to help him return to Heaven. Even if she was starting to think he was too good for it.

His surprise rippled through the bond. "You do?"

"I mean, if you don't want to—"

"I do," he said too quickly. "I was thinking of the Binding… It didn't seem fair to ask it of you."

"Boo-hoo. Life is unfair." Issa rubbed her neck. "I hope you're not suffering from Stockholm Syndrome because I haven't been particularly friendly to you."

Edvardiel looked like he was struggling with his words. "You've been friendlier than most, believe it or not. No one else has shown me as much... as much kindness."

Issa blinked at him.

"Your standards blow me away," she said finally. "You need better friends."

"I've never had any." She felt his rush of hot embarrassment as though he regretted the words.

"Where do you expect to find them in an Apocalypse?" she asked. "I've only really had one, anyway, and he's dead."

"I'm sorry," he said. Remorse swelled through their bond. "I'm also sorry I broke his blade. If I'd known what it meant—"

"Don't be," she said. "He'd have wanted you to break it. Anyway, seraph, all this sappiness is giving me hives. Can we go now?"

"Did you forget my name?" His tone was reproachful, but his eyes said something different.

"It's for your own good," she retorted. "You don't seem to believe you're an angel, so I'm going to keep calling you one. Seraph."

Edvardiel pressed his lips together. "Some friend you are."

Friend. She rather liked the sound of that.

"I'm your only one, so you'd better be nice to me."