Death's Angel: A Novel of the Lost Angels by Heather Killough-Walden

felt stupid for crushing on the lead singer the way she was, she had to admit that she was more than a touch elated.
Wait till I tell Angel
, she thought.
    “Gentlemen, this is Sophie Bryce, a friend of mine,” came Azrael’s deep, melodic voice. It sliced through her starstruck reveries like a shark’s fin through water. She experienced the quick bump in heart rate that she always did when he spoke with her, but she was pretty sure she was getting used to it. “Sophie, I’d like to introduce you to the other members of Valley of Shadow.”
    Sophie turned to look up at him.
    Shit.
Azrael’s gold eyes scorched her in her Doc Martens. He looked like he was seeing through her—
into
her. He didn’t even look away as he gestured toward the nearest member of his band. “This is Rurik, our bass guitarist,” he said.
    Sophie somehow managed to pull her gaze from his so that she could turn toward the blond, blue-eyed bass guitarist. He stood about six feet tall. His hair was cropped short and there was a scar above his left eyebrow. It would have made him look mean if he hadn’t been so young. She would place him at around twenty to twenty-five.
    He was wearing blue jeans and a light blue T-shirt under what looked like a designer army jacket replete with medals, buttons, stripes, and pins. On his feet were combat boots.
    Rurik gave her a friendly smile and bowed low as if she were royalty. She blinked, caught a bit off guard. She’d expected a simple nod and a “hi,” maybe. But the bow was beautiful. And somehow it fit the rock star image even more. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Rurik said. His voice, too, was smooth and beautiful and she detected a hint of accent, though she couldn’t place it.
    “This is our drummer, Devran,” Az said, introducing the next member.
    Sophie turned to face the drummer, who was also quite tall, though maybe an inch or two shorter than Rurik. He had swarthy skin, short and straight layered pitch-black hair, and amber eyes. They stood out in the darker complexion of his face, giving him a mesmerizing appearance. He wore red and white layered T-shirts under a red zip-up hoodie embellished with metal detailing, and faded black jeans. Devran copied his band mate’s greeting nearly to the letter, bowing low and smiling what felt like one of the warmest, most welcoming smiles Sophie had ever been on the receiving end of. His teeth were so incredibly white. “It is a great pleasure, Miss Bryce,” he said.
    “This is Mikhail, our keyboardist,” Az said, gesturing to the third member of the group. Mikhail was dressed in dark blue jeans, a black T-shirt, and a black leather sport coat that made the light blond hue of his hair pop. He stood at about the same height as Rurik, maybe a tad shorter. Though he also had blond hair, it was longer than Rurik’s and stick-straight. It fell in expertly cut layers to his broad shoulders, framing a face with a strong jaw, a five o’clock shadow, and glacier green eyes. They reminded Sophie of Uriel’s eyes, though she doubted that they glowed like Uriel’s did. Because he wasn’t an archangel.
    Mikhail’s smile broadened as if he could read her thoughts and found them amusing. His green eyes twinkled as he, too, bowed low. “It is an honor,” he said. She couldn’t believe how much he sounded like he actually meant it.
    But how could he? How could these men really care about meeting her? She was just another girl and she didn’t understand how they could see her as any different from the millions of girls who would drop everything, including their pants, for the chance to be in the same room with any member of Valley of Shadow.
    “And this is Uro,” Azrael said, again pulling her out of her thoughts with a voice that wrapped around her like silk ropes. “Our very talented lead guitarist.”
    Sophie turned to the last member of the group and felt the air around her grow warmer. At least, that’s what it seemed like as she met Uro’s