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history of fights.
    “Because you wi ll make it worse, Evie, trust me,” he says with absolutely no doubt in his tone.
    “Here, Zee, put her down. I’ll take care of her while you go referee. Make sure they both stay in one piece,” Buns states , taking charge of the situation. “We need them.”
    The blood drain s from my face . Zephyr says , “I will go referee if Evie promises to stay here until it’s over.”
    “Sweetie, tell Zee you’ll stay with us and he’ll help,” Buns urges .
    I pause , not wanting to promise because I’m not convinced that they won’t listen to me if I go down there. Zephyr says , “Every moment you make me stay here, they are alone together. ”
    I groan before saying, “Okay, I promise.”
    Zephyr set s me on my feet and is gone before I gain my balance.
    “You’re dripping wet, Ev ie,” Brownie says , putting her arm aro und my shoulder s .
    “What’s going to happen, Brownie?” I ask as she le a d s me up the grand staircase that se ems like something out of a Civil W ar novel. Buns follows behind us looking a little worried.
    “I don’t think Zee will let them go t oo far,” Brownie says , leading me to her suite of rooms on the second floor. She brings me to her bathr oom, turning on the shower.
    “How far is not too far? ” I ask , re f using to go any further until my question is answered.
    “ Reed and Russell both know that we need them to fight the Gancanagh. They’re probably just trying to e stablish dominance…” she trails off, seeing me blush. “They’re male and they both have angel DNA. I t was going to happen,” she says , testing the shower to see if it’s warm enough.
    “Why is everything so complicat ed, Brownie?” I ask , closing my eyes and putting my hands over my face.
    “Because it is,” she replies . “Take a s hower. We’ll bring dinner up here. ”
    We eat dinner in Brownie’s lavish room. Buns tries to distract me from watching the old pendulum clock on the mantel slowly tick out the seconds . Hours pass and there is no word from the beach. The rain fa ll s steadily outside, bringing with it loud claps of thunder and brilliant displays of lightning.
    “I’m not down for flying lessons in this weather. Ar e you, Brownie?” Buns asks , sip ping a cup of tea by the fire, h er golden, butterfly-like angel wings resting comfortably behind her as she si t s on the chaise lo ung e .
    “Nope… let’s do something fun,” Brownie says , looking at me from her seat on the bed as her copp er, butterfly-like wings float gracefully behind her.
    “Like what?” I ask listlessly from my position on the window seat. I pull at a crimson feather of my wing, st raining my ears to hear anythi ng from the total idiots on the beach .
    “There’s an old jukebox down in the ballroom. Let’s go see what it has in it!” Brownie says , getting to her feet and smoothing her perfectly quaffed platinum blon d hair as her blue eyes sparkle .
    Buns joins her instantly, looking excited . “Sweetie, we learned some amazing dance moves in London, while we were trying to figure out a way t o get rid of the Dominion Power angels .”
    “OH !” Brownie c himes in. “You need to see this! C ’mon, Evie!”
    Brownie grasps my wrist, hauling me out of my seat , because although she’s a Reaper angel , like Buns, she’s strong, much stronger than a human. “Okay ,” I mutter , feeling like I have to do something before I start crawlin g up the wall , which I can actually do now.
    Brownie le a d s the way down the hall. The ballroom is located in the back of the house. Entering the large, gilded room, Bro wnie flips on the light switch to the rows of crystal chandeliers overhead. Beautiful , whitewashed , wood panel ed walls with gilded , beveled edges face the opposing wall of F rench doors that ru n s the length of the room. Har d wood floors reflect the light a lmost as much as the gilt- framed mirrors that adorn the walls. Coven ceilings with