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"What is your problem with me, Irwin?!" I yell as he wipes the blood off his machete.
"Whoa, Zemira, chill out. Aren't angels supposed to be slow to anger?" Ashton mocks, smirking.
I scowl at him. "Quit playing games, Irwin. I don't know what your plan is, but you better believe I'm going to find out and put an end it."
He turns to me, his hazel eyes full of mockery and hatred. "Or what? You'll smite me? I'm sure that's exactly what your buddy Castiel would want you to do."
My anger bubbles over as I unsheathe my angel blade and pin the Aussie against the wall, blade at his neck. "I would certainly like to, you ass," I hiss. "In case you've forgotten, I may be a fallen angel, but I am still an angel of the Lord. You would find it wise to show me a bit of respect."
Ashton's fear is quickly concealed by anger. He scoffs, pushing me away from him. "I will never respect feathered freaks like you," he spits. "Stay the fuck out of my way, Zemira. You don't want to know what will happen if you don't."