Luther's POV
*****
Montecito, 7:48 PM
"Since when do you walk around in a robe?" He questioned Azrael when he stepped onto the balcony.
The broody witch sat with one leg crossed over the other, long black hair wet and shading both sides of his face. Atlas sat to his left and Silas to his right, the former's mouth parted like he was in the middle of saying something.
Luther rested against the edge of the balcony entrance, squinting through the heavy wind blowing into the balcony. "And those sunglasses. Do you ever take them off?"
Azrael's expression didn't shift as he swirled a glass of wine in his grip. "That's so much interest in my affairs, Luther. I believe this gathering was serene before you showed up."
"Still haven't answered my questions."
"Gods, Luther." Silas got up too hastily, chuckling as he wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Can we not drag things? Especially not tonight."
