Ashes of Angels. Michele Hauf
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leave?”
“Ohmygosh, I tried to call you yesterday afternoon, Caz. We’re here!”
“What? I thought it didn’t leave until tomorrow?”
“Nope, last night. We landed at Hamburg four hours ago. The flight was redirected due to bad weather. We went straight to the hotel for breakfast—”
“You and the muse?”
“Me, Ophelia and Zane.”
“Right, the sexy new man who helped you slay the angel.” Her sister had been oddly tight-lipped about Zane, other than to wax over his gorgeous muscles and how she loved to kiss him for hours. Ah, love. “You bring the angel ash?”
“Yes, it’s in my suitcase, safe and sound.”
After they’d slain a Fallen, Coco had been smart enough to gather the crystallike ash left behind. It was a necessary weapon should the worst occur.
“But, Cassandra, I’ve lost something else. Oh … you’re going to freak.”
“What?”
The pause over the phone line felt like forever creeping over Cassandra’s skin. She bit her lip and met Sam’s eyes as he strode into the living room to display his new attire. The jeans fit snugly and low at his square hips. The shirt, unbuttoned at the chest and sleeves, would probably be too tight, but really, she didn’t mind the casual look at all. And look at those cut abs. Yikes, they were hard and firm.
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