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

completely away, he gently caught her hand—and Sophie sucked her lip between her teeth for the second time that night. It was better than gasping out loud.
    Thankfully, no one seemed to notice. He felt good. Very,
very
good. For half a second, she forgot that he was an archangel searching for his lost soul mate. It was a beautiful half a second.
    Az turned to lead her toward the rows of seats overlooking the balcony of the impressive suite.
    “May I get you a drink, Sophie?” Uro asked.
    She glanced at him, was caught in his dark gaze, and nodded. “Yes, please.” He smiled and nodded back, moving toward the other side of the large room, which included an entire kitchenette complete with microwave oven, sink and faucet, and full-sized refrigerator. There was a long table set up with platters of dessert foods and drinks, and there was a wine cooler that appeared to be fully stocked.
    The room had that brand-new paint and furniture smell that Sophie loved. She’d so rarely smelled it in her life. In fact, the only time she really had was when she’d gone to work for a hotel in Pittsburgh that had just been constructed. It was such a pleasure to clean a brand-new room. Not that she particularly loved cleaning, in and of itself, but it was easy, steady work and it gave her a lot of time to think.
    Beside her, Azrael gestured to one of the seats. “So I guess this was why you couldn’t tell me about your reasons for being here when I was with my friends,” she said, trying her best to carry on a normal, human conversation with a man who was obviously so much more than that.
    Azrael nodded, taking the seat beside her. “I’m not sure a Penguins game would be a great place for the Masked One’s secret identity to get out,” he said, smiling mischievously. “I’d hate to steal any of Sid’s glory.” He chuckled and she joined him. She couldn’t help it; his laugh was contagious.
    Over her shoulder appeared an A&W Diet Root Beer, which happened to be one of her all-time favorite drinks. And it was in a bottle that actually had ice on the outside. “Wow,” she said, taking the bottle from him with grateful hands. “This is my favorite drink.”
    “Really?” Az asked. “It’s Dev’s, too, which is why we have to keep a dozen of them stocked everywhere we go.” He nodded toward the drummer, who grinned guiltily and held up his own half-empty bottle of A&W. Sophie smiled and took a sip. She loved that first ice-cold taste that seemed to quench the worst thirst.
    She could feel Az watching her carefully as she swallowed, and she chanced a glance at him. There was a strange, secret smile on his lips. She lowered her drink, but before she could ask him what he was smiling about, the atmosphere in the arena changed.
    Sophie scooted forward in her seat and peered over the railing. Cheers erupted throughout the building as the players returned to the ice. Second period was beginning.

Chapter Eight
    I t turned out that the Valley of Shadow band members were excellent company during a hockey game. Each of them seemed to know exactly what was happening at all times. They were able to follow the puck as well as, if not better than, the announcers, and anytime Sophie missed something, they happily told her all about it. They joined her in cheering, and when Staal made three goals, getting his hat trick after all, and Sophie was stricken because there was no way she could throw her cap from the suite room, Azrael gently took the hat from her, winked, and sent it sailing across the arena. It landed at center ice, a few feet from Staal’s skates.
    Sometimes, it really paid to have an archangel for a friend.
    He’s a friend?
She gave him a sidelong, surreptitious glance and sipped at her second A&W. He was laughing about something one of his mates had said. The five of them seemed very close. They were amazing together, and they’d been amazing to her as well.
    She had to wonder why. Was he including her like this just