It's September 18 today and it's time for the second excerpt from Finale by Becca Fitzpatrick!
Check it out below. Cuz Patch and Nora are talking about Nora dating Dante for an appearance to the Nephilim.
“When do I get to see these dance moves of yours?” he asked. “We’ve never gone dancing at the Devil’s Handbag together.”
“You aren’t missing much. I was told tonight I’m definite fish-out-of-water material on the dance floor.”
“Vee needs to be nicer to you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my ear.
“Vee doesn’t get credit for that line. That would go to Dante
Matterazzi,” I confessed absentmindedly, Patch’s kisses lulling me into a
happy place that didn’t require a lot of reasoning or forethought.
“Dante?” Patch repeated, something unpleasant creeping into his tone.
Shoot.
“Did I forget to mention Dante was there?” I asked. Patch had also met
Dante for the first time this morning, and for most of the tense
meeting, I feared one would drag the other into a fistfight. Needless to
say, it wasn’t love at first sight. Patch didn’t like Dante acting like
he was my political adviser and pressuring me into war with fallen
angels, and Dante . . . well, Dante hated fallen angels on principle.
Patch’s eyes cooled. “What did he want?”
“Ah, now I remember what I wanted to talk to you about.” I cracked my
knuckles. “Dante’s trying to sell me to the Nephilim race. I’m their
leader now. Trouble is, they don’t trust me. They don’t know me. And
Dante’s made it his mission to change that.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“Dante thinks it might be a good idea for me to, ah, date him. Don’t
worry!” I rushed on. “It’s all for show. Got to keep the Nephilim
thinking their leader is invested. We’re going to squash these rumors
that I’m dating a fallen angel. Nothing says solidarity like hooking up
with one of your own, you know? It makes for good press. They might even
call us Norante. Or Danta. Do you like the sound of that?” I asked,
trying to keep the mood light.
Patch’s mouth turned grim. “Actually, I don’t like the sound of that.”
“If it’s any consolation, I can’t stand Dante. Don’t sweat this.”
“My girlfriend wants to date another guy, no sweat.”
“It’s for appearances. Look on the bright side—”
Patch laughed, but the humor was lacking. “There’s a bright side?”
“It’s only through Cheshvan. Hank got Nephilim everywhere all worked up
over this one moment. He promised them salvation, and they still think
they’re going to get it. When Cheshvan comes, and ends up being like any
other Cheshvan on record, they’ll realize it was a crapshoot, and
little by little, things will go back to normal. In the meantime, while
tempers are running hot and the hopes and dreams of Nephilim are hanging
on the false belief that I can free them from fallen angels, we have to
keep them happy.”
“Has it occurred to you that the Nephilim might blame you when their
salvation doesn’t come? Hank made a lot of promises, and when they
aren’t fulfilled, no one’s going to point fingers at him. You’re their
leader now. You’re the face on this campaign, Angel,” he said solemnly.
I stared at the ceiling. Yes, I’d thought of it. More times today than I wanted to sanely contemplate.
One forever night ago, the archangels had made me the deal of a
lifetime. They’d promised to give me the power to kill Hank—if I quashed
the Nephilim rebellion. At first, I hadn’t planned on taking the deal,
but Hank had forced my hand. He’d tried to burn Patch’s feather and send
him to hell. So I shot him.
***
Remember, I don't own this one, this is from Steph Su Reads (or should I say the book at the very first place)
Can't wait for more excerpts!
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