paperwork and organizing it for Madigan’s convenience.
“What’s up?” Madigan asked, taking one of the cakes off the rack and sliding it onto his workstation. His attention flicked to Dex. “Hey, babe, can you grab me a batch of fondant and color it for me? I need it to be hot pink for the Sweet Sixteen cake we’re doing.”
Dex smiled and winked. “Will do, Madi.” Gabriel’s guardian was really taking to this whole bakery thing.
“You might want to hold off on that,” Bren said, grabbing Dex’s shoulder to stop him from walking away.
Dex frowned. “What’s wrong, Bren?”
“I’ve got two people out here who want a wedding cake made,”
Bren began. “They don’t have guardians, angelic or demonic. I thought it was weird.”
“That is strange.” Dex’s frown deepened. “Do they seem hostile?”
Bren shrugged. “Their auras are really evened out. They feel pretty human.”
“Earthbound angels in disguise? Maybe they’re Cherubims.” The messengers weren’t unheard of but were usually only sent by the 60
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higher ups in times of great emergency. It wouldn’t make sense for them to be in Madigan’s bakery.
Yuri chose that moment to pop out of the office. “Could be nephilim. They have humanlike auras and aren’t granted guardian angels until maturity if the hunters don’t find them first.”
“What’s the chance of two nephilim wandering in here by coincidence? I just don’t know. Any known nephilim would scatter, especially given the high numbers of hunters in the area,” Dex said.
“Where’s Cross?” Bren asked. He didn’t like this, and he especially didn’t like the fact that they were divided. They’d expected an attack from outside. No one had thought that anyone would be arrogant enough to walk through the front door.
“Calling him now.” Dex started muttering to himself, invoking his powers to communicate with Cross.
Madigan, who’d been quiet the entire time, spoke up. “Excuse me but if they are nephilim, why would they try and hurt me?” He looked like he was getting scared, and Bren didn’t like that one little bit. He hated to see Madigan afraid of anything. He was theirs. Nothing and no one would be able to get to him.
“Sometimes other nephilim sell out others so that the hunters will let them live for a bit longer. They pay for their own lives by turning in someone else. It’s almost like a bounty. Some nephilim are ‘worth’
more than others. As a son of Raphael, you’d be worth quite a bit,”
Yuri supplied. He didn’t look happy about it and drew Madigan into his arms, cradling the smaller man into his chest.
“I’m beginning to hate being Raphael’s son,” Madigan grumbled into the material of Yuri’s shirt. Bren’s heart constricted. He’d do almost anything to take away the obstacles in Madigan’s life.
Selfishly, he couldn’t feel bad about Madigan being Raphael’s son, though. If he wasn’t, they most likely would’ve never met.
They all jumped as the back door slammed open to admit Cross and Michel. Bren couldn’t help but to appreciate the two shirtless men Angelic Ties
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for a moment. They really were beautiful specimens of manhood.
Their wings disappeared in a small flash of light.
“Report,” Cross barked as he came around the counter and took Madigan from Yuri’s arms. He seemed to be checking to make sure everything was all right with him before turning his attention to something else. Bren gave a basic rundown of what had happened since he’d left shop.
“They’re still waiting out there?” Michel asked. Bren nodded.
“Then someone needs to go keep them occupied while we figure out what to do.” He grabbed the shirt he’d stripped off for patrol in the office and pulled it on. “I’ll go take their order or whatever and feel them out. Figure it out.”
“I’ll go with you to man the counter,” Yuri volunteered, following after Michel.
Madigan worried his bottom lip. “I need