He downed the rest of his drink and signaled for another just as Ezekiel wandered inside.

“See, I knew I liked you,” the Ichorian said as he took a seat beside him. “I’ll have one as well, love.” The redhead behind the bar grinned at them and grabbed two glasses.

Ezekiel appeared exactly the same as the first time they met, in a black leather jacket, jeans, long hair falling over his shoulders, and a lip ring. Except now he had tattoos on his hands. “Why did you color your knuckles?”

“Boredom,” he replied. “It heals in about six hours, making it only temporary, so I have to do it all over again if I want to maintain it.”

“That sounds illogical.”

“I like pain.”

“Clearly.” Because his skin looked positively angry at him for brutalizing it. “Perhaps you should try inflicting it on someone else instead.” Ezekiel struck him as the sadist type.

“Oh, now, you see, I would; alas, I’m rather committed to Skye.”

And too much information. “I didn’t mean during fornication.”

“Are you condoning murder?”

“If the punishment suits the crime.” Gabriel didn’t shy away from a little violence. Some people deserved to be hurt. Like Osiris.

“Yes, we are going to make great partners indeed,” the Ichorian beamed as he accepted a glass from the bartender. “Cheers.” He rose the amber liquid in Gabriel’s direction.

“Partners?” he repeated. Did Gabriel not say last time they were together that he preferred to work alone?

“To partners,” Ezekiel said, clinking their drinks together and completely missing the question in his voice. Or perhaps ignoring it.

“And what are we partnering on, exactly?”

“The future of humanity.” Ezekiel downed his brandy in one swallow before slamming it on the counter. “Drink up, Stark. We need to get moving.”

Gabriel bristled at the nickname but did as the Ichorian requested. He tossed a few large bills on the counter for the redhead. “You can keep the change.”

Without a backward glance, he followed Ezekiel out the door. “She totally would have fucked you, had you asked,” the Ichorian informed.

“Who?”

“The bartender.”

“Why?”

Ezekiel’s ebony gaze danced over him. “It’s true, then—what they say about Seraphim and sex?”

“Depends on what they say.”

“That you don’t indulge in it.”

Gabriel shrugged. “Pleasures of the flesh are for humans.” Though his mother seemed to differ on that opinion now, something that concerned him slightly. Sethios had clearly manipulated her senses somehow.

“You must be a virgin,” Ezekiel said, surprising Gabriel.

“My status is neither relevant nor pertinent to our ‘partnership.’ ” And not something Gabriel had any desire to talk about. Because he actually wasn’t a virgin. He’d tried sex two years ago just to see why the humans fancied it so much, and found it quite uneventful.

Granted, it’d been with another Seraphim, who was equally curious, and they both blundered through it.

But that belied the point.

Ezekiel and Gabriel had no business discussing it, as it held no relevance whatsoever.