by Richelle Mead
"Wow." I hadn't thought Dimitri could be any cooler, but I was wrong. "You beat up your dad. I mean, that's really horrible...what happened. But, wow. You really are a god."
He blinked. "What?"
"Uh, nothing."He watched as I slipped one of the shoes on. "You have a guardian angel."
"I don't believe in angels," I told him. "I believe in what I can do for myself."
"Well then, you have an amazing body." I glanced up at him with a questioning look. "For healing, I mean. I heard about the accident..."
"I had a standing arrangement with God: I'd agree to believe in him—barely—so long as he let me sleep in on Sundays."
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