Read Online Mercy for the Damned by Lisa Olsen - Free Book Online Page B

Had I opened up a new hobby for him?  “You didn’t know where the gate to Midian was before today?”
    “No, I have never trailed them to where they emerged from Midian, and I have never sought to go there.  I told you, most angels avoid it at all costs.”
    “Be careful then, if you pick off too many of them by the gate, they might send reinforcements.”
    “Don’t worry, Mercy, I know a thing or two about not spooking my prey,” he chuckled, and I was reminded that he’d been fighting ‘the dark side’ for thousands of years.  Sometimes I forgot how much life experience Sam had, since he was often clueless about the simplest of things.  But maybe, as Daphne had said, he was really starting to embrace this century and understand the way the world worked? 
    “Maybe next time we capture a demon, we can ask them what it means, ‘The Honey Pot’?” he added with a beatific smile. 
    Maybe not.
     
     
     

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Seven
     
    It didn’t take long to track Remiel down once we knew what we were looking for.  A short drive for me (and flight for Sam), and we found ourselves standing outside the aptly named Vagabond Inn in a rundown part of Tacoma. Despite the late (or early, depending on how you looked at it) hour, the light was on inside, and knowing angels didn’t need to sleep, I knocked boldly on the door. 
    “Somethin’ I can help you with, sugar?”
    He was gorgeous, as all angels were, but something about him seemed… dirty.  Not just because of the greasy blonde hair that obscured half his unshaven face or the soiled wife beater he wore with blue jeans so torn and faded, I could see through them in spots.  His room was liberally strewn with garbage.  Old pizza boxes, beer bottles, and more than one pair of lacy panties; it looked like a frat party exploded in there a few weeks ago and no one had bothered to clean it up.    
    I’m not sure what I expected to see, but that wasn’t it.  Sure I knew he was Fallen, but so were Sam and Adam, it didn’t give them the excuse to live in a pigsty.  When people talked about Adam living in debauchery for centuries, was that what they meant? 
    “We’re looking for Remiel,” I managed to get out, more than a little disconcerted.  I might even have thought we had the wrong place entirely, but nothing could disguise the golden nimbus that surrounded him, or the bright (if bloodshot), blue eyes. 
    “Well, you found him,” he shrugged, squinting against the light.  “Either one of you got a smoke on you?”  His voice had a distinctly Southern twang to it, like he’d spent some time in Texas maybe, and the accent had stuck. 
    “I do not smoke,” Sam volunteered and Remiel cupped his fingers over his eyes to peer at him more closely. 
    “Oh, it’s you.  Shit, I thought you got busted down like the rest of us?  What are you doing working for the skirts upstairs?”
    An interesting name for the heavenly host…   “He’s not working for them, he’s helping me.  Do you think we could come inside maybe?”  Not that I thought anyone might be watching us, but I didn’t want to linger outside in that neighborhood. 
    “You can come in anytime you want, sugar,” he leered openly, leaning against the door as he opened it wide.  Sam strode in, immediately frowning in distaste over the filth.
    “I will wait outside, if you don’t mind, Mercy.”  Sam looked to me for permission and I gave him a nod.  Remiel might be a pig, but I was pretty sure I could handle him.  
    “Mercy… mercy… mercy… ain’t you just the type to make a man sit up and beg for a little.”  Despite the generally disheveled look, his teeth were even and white as he smiled.  He might have been stunningly handsome if he made the slightest effort to clean himself up.     
    “Do you know who I am?”  I asked, making sure, since it seemed like every other supernatural creature I ran into had my whole dossier memorized. 
    “You got