You," he says, with a dirty look, “don’t deserve salvation.”
"As if you could give it to me,” I croak. “Why would I want to go to Heaven anyway when it’s crammed full of murderers and kidnappers like you and your buddies?”
“Who says I belong in Heaven?
But then again, Cinderella didn’t live in a post-apocalyptic world invaded by avenging angels.
Susan EeShe? You’re not one of those people who name their cars and coffee mugs, are you? It’s an inanimate object. Get over it.
Susan EeHere, I’ll show you how to use it. Let me see your foot.”
“That’s a pretty intimate demand in the angel world. It usually takes dinner, some wine, and sparkling conversation for me to give up my feet.
If I was good at marketing, I’d spin you an empty story that sounds profound. But the truth is that we’re all just stumbling around in the dark. Sometimes we hit something terrible.
Susan EeSo,what do they call you if they don’t know your name?”
There’s a brief pause before he answers.
“The Wrath of God.
You should know,” he says. His whisper is low enough that even angels probably couldn’t hear it beyond the background noise of conversations in the corridor. “I don’t even like you.
Susan EeAngels are violent creatures.”
“So I noticed. I used to think they were all sweet and kind.”
“Why would you think that? Even in your Bible, we’re harbingers of doom, willing and able to destroy entire cities. Just because we sometimes warned one or two of you beforehand doesn’t make us altruistic.
I never kid about my warrior demigod status."
"Oh. My. God." I lower my voice, having forgotten to whisper. "You are nothing but a bird with an attitude. Okay, so you have a few muscles, I’ll grant you that. But you know, a bird is nothing but a barely evolved lizard. That’s what you are.
Stichwörter: raffe-and-penryn
Tall, dark and friendly. What more could a girl ask for?
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