Who are you?” Luce asked, falling to her knees. “What do you want?”
“Show some respect.” The angel’s throat convulsed as if he meant to bark, but his voice came out warbled and faint and old.
“Earn my respect,” Luce said. “And I’ll give it to you.”
He gave her half an evil smirk and dropped his head low. Then he pulled down the cloak to expose the back of his neck. Luce blinked in the dim light. His neck bore a painted brand, which shimmered gold in the glow of streetlights mingled with the moon. She counted seven points on the star.
He was one of the Scale.
“Recognize me now?”
“Is this how the Throne’s enforcers work? Bludgeoning innocent angels?”
“No Outcast is innocent. Nor is anyone else, for that matter, until they are proven to be so.”
“You’ve proven yourself innocent of any honor, striking a girl from behind.”
“Insolence.” He wrinkled his nose at he. “Won’t get you far with me.”
“That’s exactly where I want to be.” Luce’s eyes darted to Olianna, to her pale hand and the starshot clenched in its grip.
“But it’s not where you will stay,” the Scale said haltingly, as if having to force himself to commit to heir illogical banter.

Auteur: Lauren Kate