Mom’s eyes flare red. “I take great exception to that, Mr. Cross.” She whips open a drawer, pulling out a heavy file. With a thwack, she sets it on her desktop. “I’ve been researching you.” She whips open the manila folder. “Xavier Cross, Lead Ambassador for the angels.” She points to a line on the sheet before her. “For some reason, no one seems to remember seeing your wings. Your race is listed as ‘unknown.’”

He shrugs. “I wonder often myself.”

“Whatever you are, you’ve been angel Ambassador to my government for three hundred years.” She eyes him with a wary look, and I have to agree, this guy seems a little sketchy. A protective urge coils up my spine.

Xavier gestures around the room. “I helped design this Senate building, in fact.” His eyes flash bright blue. “I know things about the quasi government you couldn’t guess at.”

Correction: he seems a LOT sketchy.

“Obviously, you’ve more than your share of secrets.” Mom lifts a red sheet of paper from the file. “Here’s a summary of the grievances against you over the years.” She gives the paper a shake. “Using angelic influence seems to be your favorite way to get work done. That tactic is illegal in and will no longer be tolerated in this office.”

Xavier hitches his ankle onto his knee and smiles. “There’s never been a formal complaint. What’s the nature of the problem, exactly?”

Mom slams the paper into her folder. “Angelic influence. You know, mind control? When angels find the good in a mortal soul and use it to change their behavior.”

My brows pop up. Angelic influence? Who knew they could control minds?

Xavier makes a tsk-tsk noise. “Perhaps you’re thinking of dreamscaping. A handful of angels and demons have this gift. They can send visions to others’ dreams, sometimes even communicate with them in their sleep. You must be confused.”

Uh-oh. I’ve tried that ‘you’re confused’ line on Mom before. It only makes her angrier.

Mom raises her hand. “Please. We both know that angelic influence is nothing like dreamscaping. You connect to non-angels and inspire them into your so-called good deeds.” She slaps her hands onto the desktop. “I’m not a fool. Most of my angelic requests have one goal only: to prevent fully evil souls from entering Heaven through trial by combat. And why’s that? Angelic influence doesn’t work on the truly evil, so you could never control them.”

Mom’s spot-on with this one. In my Arena matches, I fight their worst souls for that very reason: pure evil would be uncontrollable in Heaven.

Xavier frowns. “Nonsense.”

I roll my eyes. He’s so full of it.