Erik
If I needed a stark reminder that we’d been living in a protected bubble for the last twenty-four hours, then I got it when Marco returned. I met them up on the roof while Avery waited in the main apartment. Marco’s angel friends were armed to the teeth with blades. The two of them were both stocky and broad chested, not as tall as Marco. They were all dressed in black; one had closely cropped, dark hair, and the other had longer blond hair.
Marco introduced them as Evan and Grice. He told me the other night that angels choose their own names and change them periodically. I asked him if he’d always been called Marco, and he shook his head.
“My name is unpronounceable, so I chose Marco. I can put on a Spanish accent, and it works wonders with the ladies.”
I’d sighed internally and
