Free Death's Angel: A Novel of the Lost Angels by Heather Killough-Walden Page B

there. Her advice was never unsolicited, and when it came it was never bossy and always brilliant.
    S: You know me too well.
    A: Don’t freak, girl. This is what you want—it’s what you need. I’m SO not surprised you got the scholarship. And it’s about time this happened, too. Jules and I have been trying to get you to apply forever. When do you leave? And speaking of leaving, does this marriage thing mean that Juliette is staying in Scotland?
    S: I leave this weekend. A friend is taking me to a go-away Pens game. They’re playing Tampa Bay. I have to see Geno on the ice one last time before I head out. And yes—Juliette’s staying there. So . . . this is it.
    There was a pause and Sophie could imagine Angel smiling and nodding sagely. She had no idea what Angel looked like, though Jules and Soph had sent
her
a drunk Halloween costume picture once just for fun. However, she couldn’t imagine Angel as being anything but gorgeous. It was just the way she seemed.
    A: Very good, my friend. Very, very good. Throw a hat for me if anyone gets a trick. See you on the flip side. xoxo
    S: Bye sweetie. xoxo
    Sophie closed the chat box and then shut down her computer without checking her e-mail. The truth was, she’d been up all night at Juliette’s reception and she was going on nearly forty hours with no sleep now. It was time for a shower and a nap.
    As she closed the door to the bathroom and slipped into the shower, she didn’t notice the man in the apartment across the street close his own laptop and dial his cell phone. It rang once, was picked up, and the man glanced at the windows from which he had been watching the young woman with golden hair.
    “I have some information for Lord Azrael,” he said.
    * * *
    Sophie had a hard time wiping the grin off her face as her friends Taylor and Emily led her through the massive crowd at the entrance to the Consol Energy Center. It was seven thirty on Thursday night, and as it was on most Thursday nights during hockey season, the downtown Pittsburgh area was wall to wall with fans.
    The Consol Energy Center was a new building, and when Taylor handed over their tickets and they all stepped inside, Sophie was met with the brightly shining, vast, sweeping architecture of the new home of the Pittsburgh Penguins.
    “Wow,” she whispered. She’d been to a few games at the old Mellon Arena and she’d always loved them, but this was already topping them. “They did a wonderful job,” she said as she took in the hockey jerseys behind glass, the sculptures and plaques, the gift shop and the multi-tiered walkways. “It’s gorgeous.”
    “Wait until you actually see the ice,” Taylor said, gesturing down one of the halls that bustled with people in jerseys and Penguins sweaters. “Our section is down that way. Section one-oh-two, row H.”
    Sophie’s eyes opened wide and her jaw dropped. “Holy shit,” she muttered, taking the tickets from Taylor’s fingers. “Seriously? You have that much clout?”
    Taylor worked for Consol Energy and it was through work that she’d come by the tickets. These were prime seats. Sophie had never been up so close at a hockey game before.
    Emily gave her a baby-faced smile and shrugged. “What can I say? I got people. Now let’s go before we miss the puck drop!”
    After the three of them took their seats, Sophie immediately began taking pictures with her cell phone. The boys were already out on the ice practicing. She couldn’t believe how close she was. Number Seventy-one skated by and Sophie felt as if she could jump up, reach out, and grab the back of his jersey. She wondered what Evgeni Malkin, lovingly known as “Geno” to his fans, would do if she ran down there, slip-slided on the ice, and placed a big wet one on his cheek. She smiled at the thought and clicked a few more pics.
    Emily got up and bought them refreshments, returning with a drink and a bag of peanut M&M’s for Sophie.
    The players took the ice and the lights