I shrugged. "Just admiring the view."
He smirked, as if truly amused. Suddenly, his wings spread out behind him in a spectacular display. The span of his wings had to be at least twelve feet. They were almost the exact color of his hair, with the exception of a few black splotches where he'd gotten into something really, really dirty.
"I think I might be jealous."
"Trust me. We may be different species, but you have nothing to be jealous of." He gestured to the ledge of the building. "Sit. Let us talk."
I'd hated heights my entire life, but something about not dying if I was to fall really nixed those fears in a hurry. We walked to the ledge and both sat, though when Zephyr sat, he cursed and had to pull in his wings.
"Such a dirty mouth for an angel." I cast a glance at him. "For the record, I didn't like the last potty-mouth much."
"That seems to be a recurring theme for those who have dealt with him." He sighed and held a leg up, examining his boot. Whatever the black, tarry substance was, it wouldn't be coming off any time soon. "Thing is, I am who I am and I don't pretend to be otherwise."
"He really didn't either. He was a jerk, pure and simple."
"And he is why you've requested to see me?"
Well, sort of. I'd hoped that by getting a meeting with him, I'd get more of a sure answer on Cyril's punishment. I'd also hoped to throw in a few questions about Simon and his punishment, too.
I nodded. "I was told that you would know what was done with Cyril."
"Yes," he said, drawing out the word. "But what does that have to do with you?"
"After what he did to Lucien, I think it has a lot to do with me. Unfortunately, as much as I'd have liked to have his head on a platter, I hear that's impossible. It seems angels are quite difficult to kill."
"What do you want to know about him?"
"I want reassurance that he won't be back. Ever."
"He won't," Zephyr said with confidence. "I delivered him to his judgment myself."
"And that is?"
"Let's just say that it's very dark and very hot." He pointed to his boots in disgust. "And very dirty."
I leaned over to examine his boots. "What is that?"
"You do not want to know." He straddled the ledge so that he could face me. "Tell me why I'm really here, Peter. Why would you go to such lengths to request a meeting from me just to ask me personally about things Daniel has already told you? Do you not trust him?"
"How do we know to trust anyone?"
"You seem to trust me just fine."
I realized then that from the moment we'd made it to the roof, I had been as relaxed as I might have been with Nikolas or Logan. When I should have been cautious and on guard, I felt nothing but at ease. I glared at him, though half-heartedly.
"Probably a result of some fu-fu angel power."
"You say what's on your mind." Zephyr smiled. "I like you."
"You don't know me."
"Ah, Peter&" He looked off across the street, watching people as they waited to get into the club. "I know you better than you know yourself, perhaps. You love to fuck rather than fight.unless those you love are in danger. And then, you are a force to be reckoned with."
"If you know me so well, then you know that I will do anything to keep the ones I love safe. I had to know, firsthand, that Cyril was out of the picture."
"And?" He leaned closer. "What is it you want from me?"
"There is an angel in my coven."
"Symael." It was odd, hearing Simon's given name as it passed through Zephyr's lips. As if the name alone was a part of a song. "What about him?"
"I want him pardoned."
"Gah! And I liked you so much." Zephyr jumped to his feet and began to pace along the narrow ledge. His wings spread almost violently, pretty much mirroring the look in his eyes. "What you ask is&"
"Impossible?"
He stopped, mid-step, and I swore I heard a growl. "Nothing is impossible."
"Simon is a good man."
"Symael is not a good angel."
"He might have been the very best," I argued. "And maybe he was robbed of the chance because Cyril was put at his side."
"What is done is done."
I swung my feet around and stood, looking up at Zephyr. He looked so angry. No, it wasn't anger. Dread, maybe? Whatever the cause, I needed to proceed with caution. And maybe, for once, grovel a little.
"Look." I searched for words, but damn, groveling wasn't something I was used to. "It hurts me to see him hurting."