Despite Jake’s best efforts, Remi wasn’t convinced the Ward’s roster was filled with ‘good guys’. He remembered the first time he’d been apprehended flying. One of the wardens, a burly demon with a sour face, had possessed an aura that was an unsettling combination of fiery red and brown brimstone. He’d been the one that’d suggested arresting Remi and clipping his wings. If it hadn’t been for the warden’s partner, who’d pointed out they were dealing with a first time offender, Remi wondered if he would’ve relented and stowed the golden thread he’d claimed could cuff even an angel.
Next time, the warden had promised, Remi wouldn’t get off so easily. Next time, he’d make sure he'd never be able to fly again. Heaven or Earth, people who gravitated towards positions of power didn’t always have everyone’s wellbeing in mind. Sometimes, they only sought a way to make themselves bigger and better than the next person. There would be a mixture of types on the force, surely.
When the District Leader asked if he'd understood everything he'd said, Remi extracted himself from his thoughts and nodded. Yes, he now had a better understanding of how the Ward worked, but the most important thing was the promise he'd received from Jake. No matter how upset they got with him, Jake would never allow them to toss him into a cage.
He looked from Jake to an unusually quiet Sam and frowned. Something wasn’t right. Was he upset because Remi hadn’t taken the first available opportunity to leave the meeting?
“That was my only question,” Remi said, dragging his gaze from Sam back to Jake, though something of his frown still remained in the deep furrows of his brow. He pulled his forearm from the table and sat back in the booth; he was making overt I'm-ready-to-leave motions. “For now, anyway. If I think of any more, what's the best way for me to get in touch?"