“Well, seraphim,” he asked. “What do you have to say for yourself? I send you to take this man's soul, and instead I find you here, rutting in his bed like a common animal.”
Nate's vision hazed with fury, but he was voiceless. He clenched his fists at his sides and took a step forward, but was stopped by a quick glance. “Don't even try it, boy. I don't want to kill you.”
“What difference does it make?” Doriel's voice was leaden with despair. “If I don't kill him, someone has to. It might as well be you. At least I know you won't botch the job.”
The archangel raised a brow. His face was darkly amused. “Kill him? Whoever said anything about killing him?”
“You did,” Doriel snapped, goaded past her patience. “You said it yourself. Go to Earth and take his soul.”
“His soul,” Michael replie
