A Hundred Words for Hate Read Online Free

Steven Mulvehill, homicide cop and Remy’s closest human friend.
    Madeline had been Remy’s anchor in this human world, and so much more, but it was nearly a year since her death now, and he’d had no one in his life since. Mulvehill argued that this was causing his friend to disconnect from the humanity Remy had worked so hard to create.
    Remy’s true nature surged with the thought. He was, after all, a creature of Heaven . . . a warrior angel . . . a Seraphim . . . but Remiel—as he had once been called—had grown tired of the fighting, and the war, and the death, and he had left the Kingdom of God, heading to the world of man to find an easier life.
    A happier life.
    A human life.
    And after a few thousand years, give or take, Remiel had found just that as he made the Earth his home. He’d chosen the name Remy Chandler, and started his work as a private investigator, and suddenly it had all fallen into place.
    That was when a beautiful woman had applied for a job as his office secretary, and suddenly he wasn’t pretending to be human anymore.
    He was human.
    The love of her—of Madeline—had transformed him into so much more than what he had been.
    He wished more than anything that their love could have gone on forever, but the Lord God had seen fit to make His most favored creations mortal; a very sad flaw in the Creator’s design, Remy believed.
    So Madeline was gone now, taken by cancer and age, and he was left alone to grieve for his beautiful wife, and his slowly faltering humanity.
    It had been so much easier being a thing of Heaven, serving the Almighty with nary a question. And the business of being human? That was truly a chore, but despite the confusion and pain, it was something Remy was desperate to hold on to.
    That was what brought him out here on this cold January night. It was all about his need to connect again. To find that special thing . . . that special someone to tie him to the world of man, and keep his eyes from straying to the heavens.
    The power inside him would return to its master in an instant, but Remiel . . . Remy had seen far too much as a soldier of God and preferred the grimy city streets of Earth to the golden spires of Heaven.
    Remy handed off his keys to the valet in front of Mistral and headed toward the restaurant. As he reached for the brass handle on the door, he felt as if the world were dropping away from beneath his feet, and he tried to recall whether he had felt this anxious when stepping through the passage to the Hell prison of Tartarus.
    He didn’t think so.
    He took a deep breath and stepped into the lobby, unzipping his leather jacket as he scanned the dining room.
    “Hi, may I help you?” asked an attractive woman with long blond hair and a radiant smile.
    Remy returned the smile. “I have a reservation for Chandler,” he said, not seeing his date.
    The woman studied the open book on the podium. “Yes, sir, seven fifteen, for two,” she said, looking up at him. “The other member of your party hasn’t checked in yet. If you’d like to wait in the bar, and I’ll call you as soon as . . .”
    Remy felt a blast of January air as the door opened behind him, and he turned to face it.
    Linda Somerset stood in the entryway.
    Her cheeks were a rosy pink, and there seemed to be a touch of panic in her gaze as she looked past him to the restaurant beyond. She pulled the floppy woolen hat from her head and combed her shoulder-length, chestnut brown hair with her fingers.
    Remy couldn’t help but smile as her gaze turned to him and recognition dawned on her pretty face.
    Linda laughed, reaching out to grab hold of his arm. It was a nice sound, and she had quite a grip.
    “I didn’t even notice you,” she said, her eyes never leaving his. “I was afraid I was late.”
    “No worries,” Remy said. “I just got here myself.”
    The manic look he’d seen when the woman had first entered started to recede, and he found himself suddenly feeling more comfortable