It was kind of cool.
And a little scary.
On the way, I did send Dez a quick text letting him know that Zayne was all right, and that we’d call him in a bit. My phone immediately lit up with a dozen or so silent texts I didn’t get a chance to respond to because Zayne had dipped his head and pressed his lips to my temple, and the sweet kiss nearly sent me into a complete breakdown.
I think the driver took his first real breath when we pulled up to the apartment building and Zayne opened the door. As I climbed out, I saw the driver’s gaze follow Zayne as he stepped under a streetlamp. The imprint of Zayne’s wings was faint but visible to me, so I had no doubt the older man saw it.
I shut the door as the driver unhooked the cross and brought it to his lips.
“We definitely need to make sure you have a shirt on when out in public,” I said, joining him on the sidewalk.
A wry grin appeared as we entered the lobby. “You think?” He glanced over his shoulder. “How visible is it?”
“Well, I can see it, so...” I said as we stepped into the lobby. Luckily, it was empty, and with it being brightly lit, I was able to get a better look at it. “Sort of looks like a white ink tattoo of angel wings. It covers your entire back, and it looks like it’s slightly raised.” Each curved feather looked as if it had been painstakingly etched onto his skin, no detail missed. The slightly raised quality to it gave it the shaded appearance of a normal tattoo. The urge to touch it hit me hard again as we made our way to the elevator. But remembering how he reacted in the pool, I resisted. “It’s really beautiful, Zayne.”
“You’re beautiful.”
My head jerked up, and I found him staring down at me with a soft, tender pull to his lips. I could feel warmth hitting my cheeks even as I snorted in the most unattractive manner possible. “I’ve seen what I look like right now, and—”
“And you’re even more beautiful than before.” He lifted his hand slowly to my face. His thumb brushed over the curve of my chin. “Each and every bruise is a badge of your strength.”
“There you go again, saying all the right things,” I murmured.
“How is this for not being the right thing to say?” He traced a finger along the line of my cheek, stopping where I knew the skin was still a lovely shade of bluish-purple. “I’m going to hurt Gabriel. Every bruise he left behind, every hurt he inflicted, I will repay tenfold. I want him to be alive and breathing when I strip his flesh from his bones and tear his organs from his body, and then, before he takes his last breath, I want the last thing he sees to be you before you kill him.”
Oh.
Wow.
My heart skipped a beat. Not at the cold promise in his voice that assured he planned to do exactly that or at the violence he wanted to reap, but because he would face Gabriel again. We both would face the archangel, and what if something happened to him? Again? My insides turned cold and panic started to take root. Could I convince Zayne to take a vacay? To sit this out—?
I stopped myself right there as I stared up into his eyes. Every day carried the risk of one of us meeting an untimely demise. That hadn’t changed. If anything, now Zayne would be less easy to kill. That was good news, something I needed to remember, but Zayne hadn’t asked me to sit this out.
Inherently, I knew he wouldn’t.
I also knew I needed Zayne at my side when I faced off with Gabriel, even if Roth and Layla were successful in recruiting Lucifer. And it wasn’t like Zayne would listen to such a request. He hadn’t when I asked him to before, and maybe him charging in when he did, drawn by the pain the bond was feeding him, had played a role that had ultimately led to his death.
I couldn’t ask that Zayne not let guilt get in the way of us living. And I couldn’t let fear do the same.
I wouldn’t.
I took a small breath. “That was also the right thing to say.”
Zayne raised one eyebrow.
I shrugged. “I mean, probably not to most, but I have absolutely no problem with you doing exactly that.”
A faint grin appeared. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you’d say that. You’ve always been bloodthirsty.”
“True,” I said, stepping into the elevator. Though I had to admit that I wouldn’t have thought the Zayne from before would’ve said all of that. Yeah, he would’ve wanted to hurt and kill Gabriel, but the whole stripping the skin and tearing out organs thing? That was different.
As the elevator took us up, I stared at him. With the better lighting, I could see he looked the same.
But not.
“You know, your features are sharper to me, more defined. Like a picture coming into focus in high-res,” I explained. “It’s been like that since you came back.”
He started to respond when I felt the awareness swirl along the nape of my neck. His gaze swung toward the elevator doors as he stepped forward, somewhat blocking me. “There’s a demon near.”
“It’s probably Cayman. He was going to hang out here until he heard from me,” I told him. “You’re bright.”
“What?” Zayne glanced at me as the elevator slowed to a halt.
“Your skin is brighter.” I poked his arm. “It’s like there’s a faint light under your skin, and I think that’s why I can see you better than before.”
His brows rose. “I look like a walking light bulb?”
I grinned. “I don’t think it’s all that noticeable. I mean, if I can see it, I’m sure others can, but I don’t think they’ll be able to put their finger on what it is. They’ll probably think you have a nice, healthy glow.”
He opened his mouth as he turned back to the front of the elevator, his attention focused on the inside of the room as the door opened. Whatever he was about to say was forgotten as the dark-haired demon shimmied into our line of sight. Cayman’s back was to us as his head bopped and his hips swayed. In one hand was a bag of chips and in the other was a can of soda. Music thumped from his earphones in a familiar beat.
Was that... Hey Mama?
Suddenly Cayman bent at the waist. His ass went up in the air and he shook that thing like...like he was getting paid. Good money, too.
My lips parted.
“This was not what I expected,” Zayne murmured.
“I don’t think anyone would expect this.”
Cayman whipped upright, the movement smooth and sinuous, popping a chip into his mouth.
The demon could dance.
I stepped out of the elevator, unsure if we should interrupt him or not. He seemed to be having so much fun as he danced backward—
He spun toward us. A high-pitched shriek erupted from him, causing me to jump. The bag of chips slipped from his fingers and slices of deep-fried potatoes scattered across the floor.
“I wish we’d had the foresight to record this,” Zayne commented.
I smirked.
“Oh, man.” Cayman reached into his pocket and the sound of music ceased. Slowly, he tugged his earbuds out as he stared at Zayne. “Should I be running for my life right now?”
“Instead of dancing for your life?” I asked.
“This is not the time for jokes,” the demon replied.
“But I’ve got jokes for days.”
Cayman ignored me and lowered his voice as if Zayne couldn’t hear him. “I really do not want to have a repeat of Saturday night.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Zayne offered. “I wasn’t quite myself.”
“No shit,” Cayman whispered. “You don’t feel the uncontrollable urge to hunt me down and make me scream like a small child?”
Zayne bent down, picking up the fallen chips. “I don’t feel like doing that or hearing you scream again.” Glancing at the kitchen, he did a double take as he got a load of the mess. “On second thought...”
I bit down on the inside of my cheek.
/> “I’ll clean it all up.” Cayman lifted his hands. “Even the mess Trinity left out.”
My eyes narrowed on the demon.
He winked at me before turning his attention back to Zayne. “Damn, angel boy, look at how far you’ve fallen. Literally.” He sounded like he’d just paid Zayne one of the biggest compliments. “Glad you’re back.”
“Thanks,” Zayne replied. “I think.”
“I was afraid I was going to have to move in with Trinity if this didn’t work out. You know, keep her sane.” He paused. “Sedated.”
My eyes narrowed. “Do you want to scream like a small child again?”
“Maybe later. I’ll let you know.” Cayman took a drink of his soda.
Zayne tossed the bag of chips onto the counter. “Do I look like a walking light bulb to you?”
Rolling my eyes, I turned to him. “I said you didn’t look like that.”
“Just making sure.” He shot me a grin that shouldn’t have caused my heart to do a pitter-patter, but did.
Cayman shook his head. “No, but you do have a luminous...undertone now that you mention it.”
“See?”
Zayne’s grin kicked up a notch. “Got a question for you, Cayman. Do you feel anything when you’re around me?”
Cayman lowered his can of soda. “Depends on what you mean.”
Remembering how Purson had reacted to Zayne, I followed where he was leading with that question. “I think he’s talking about if you can sense what he is?”
“Other than the wings being a dead giveaway?” Cayman’s dark brows knitted. “Where are they, anyway?”
“I have them.” Zayne turned, giving Cayman a view of his back.
The demon let out a low whistle as he saw the markings. “Incognito. Nice. I haven’t seen that since angels worked side by side with man.”
My brows climbed up my forehead. “How old are you?”
“Old enough that I’ve seen entire civilizations fall only to be reborn,” Cayman replied.
“All righty, then,” I murmured.
“But to answer your question, you definitely don’t feel like a Warden.” His forehead creased as he studied Zayne. “You feel different.” His head tilted, sending a sheet of black hair over his shoulder. “But if I hadn’t seen the wings, I wouldn’t have known what you are.”
“How is that?” I asked, shifting from one foot to the next. Weariness was creeping into my muscles. It had been a long couple of days, and a day’s worth of sleep hadn’t gone as far as I thought it would.
“I guess it’s the same thing that prevents most demons from sensing that you’re a Trueborn. Some kind of heavenly shield attached to the grace, I suppose.”
“Could you sense a normal Fallen—one without its grace?” I asked, wondering if I could sense one myself.
Cayman nodded. “They feel like...like a very powerful demon. Not exactly but similar.” He leaned against the back of the couch. “Any demon worth its name will be able to pick up the aura of power around you, but their minds would never put holy and crap together and end up with a Fallen as the reason why. There just hasn’t been one roaming around for, well, since the Wardens came out of their shells. Obviously.”
“Interesting.” Zayne glanced over at me. “That is something that could be of benefit.”
“Yeah, except your little Targaryen burn-them-all moment Saturday night made it clear there was a Fallen on the scene—one with his wings and grace. I’m sure that’s spread farther and wider than obvious fake news on social media,” Cayman said. I guessed Purson wasn’t included in the DC Demons Facebook group or something. “Especially considering the way you feel reminds me of only one other being.”
My stomach tumbled. I knew who he was referencing. Lucifer.
“How does it feel, though?” Cayman asked. “Knowing where you really come from?”
“Honestly? Doesn’t feel good or bad. It just...makes sense.” Zayne briefly glanced at the demon. “Who I am or even who I was has nothing to do with ancestors who lived some thousands of years ago.”
“You’re such a disappointment,” Cayman muttered.
“Really?” Zayne replied.
“Yeah, because you’re so damn well adapted.” Cayman pouted. “It’s no fun to mess with you about your less than holy origins if it doesn’t bother you.”
“Sorry.” Zayne strode toward me. He took my hand, pulling me toward the couch. “Sit with me?”
“Of course,” I murmured, grateful to not be standing the moment my butt hit the cushion.
“But now I understand why Roth said some of the things he said,” Zayne added as he sat beside me. “And also surprised he’s managed to keep that to himself.”
“You and me both.”
“Even Roth follows some rules,” Cayman said.
Something occurred to me then. “You know what I don’t understand?”
“How humans still think climate change is junk science?” Cayman suggested.
“Yeah, that also, but—”
“Bitcoins?” he offered up next. “Because even I don’t understand Bitcoins and I’ve seen all manner of money.”
I frowned. “No. I’m not talking about Bitcoins. How did the future Wardens end up getting created? There weren’t any female Fallen, right? There’s no female angels.”
“Who says there aren’t any female angels?” Cayman asked, turning around so he was facing us.
I blinked rapidly. “I’ve never seen nor heard of one.”
“There are female angels,” Zayne confirmed. “I saw a few.”
“Wait. For real? What did they look like?”
“They looked like...female angels,” he said.
“That’s real helpful.” I turned to Cayman. “Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this? Why is there no mention of a female angel in any—wait.” I held up my hand. “I honestly don’t even need that answered. The patriarchy.”
“Yep.” Cayman nodded. “And that’s a human construct. Can’t even blame us demons for that.”
“Okay. So there were female angels who Fell?”
“I bet you won’t be surprised to hear that no female angels have ever gotten themselves kicked out of Heaven,” Cayman said. “Not because they never questioned anything. It’s just that they actually questioned things in a logical, thoughtful manner instead of acting like general fools.”
“No,” I muttered. “Not surprised at all to hear that.”
“Anyway, remember the thing where God flooded the Earth to rid the world of the nephilim offspring that resulted from naughty-fun times before the Fallen were cast to stone? Well, God didn’t get all of them.”
Zayne draped my braid over my shoulder. “There were only a few human women whose genetics matched up with Wardens’, allowing them to become pregnant with a Warden. Come to find out, those women were all descendants of the children of those who Fell.”
“Watered-down nephilim,” Cayman said.
“Watered-down Trueborns,” I muttered, thinking all of that sounded potentially incestuous. I was just going to hope that the first generation of Wardens had hooked up with women who weren’t their offspring, and leave it at that.
Besides, I needed to be more worried about the functionality of my own womb.
“So what was it like?” Cayman asked, picking up a small box of animal crackers before all but rolling over the back of the couch and into a corner of the sectional. “The whole dying thing? I’m curious. You know—’cuz I’ve never died.”
“That’s kind of a rude question to ask,” I pointed out.
Cayman shrugged.
The corners of Zayne’s lips tipped up. “As if you don’t want to know.”
I opened my mouth to deny that, but then sighed. “Yeah, I can’t even lie. I am curious.”
“Kn
ew it.” He ran a hand over his head, dragging his hair back from his face. “I remember dying. Kind of.”
“Kind of?” Cayman asked around a mouthful of crackers.
He nodded. “I remember being under the school, in that cavern, and knowing I was dying and being...scared out of my mind for you—for what would happen once I was gone. I could feel your pain, and all I wanted was to make sure you knew it would be okay.”
God.
It took everything in me not to launch myself at Zayne again.
“And then there was a loud snapping sound, almost like thunder, and this flash of intense light. Never seen something so bright before.” A far-off look crept into his expression, but he didn’t take his gaze off me. Actually, he hadn’t for more than a few moments, and I wondered if it was because he was feeling the same as me. Like, deep down, he couldn’t believe we were here. Together. “The light receded pretty quickly, and when it did, I was in some kind of building.”
“A building? Instead of clouds?” I sighed. “I am so disappointed.”
A grin appeared. “I eventually saw clouds.”
I clasped my hands under my chin. “With angels resting on them?”
Cayman snorted.
Zayne laughed. “You’re going to be really disappointed, but just normal clouds in the sky.”
He was right, but I was still curious. “Heaven has a sky with clouds in it?” When he nodded, my nose wrinkled. “Are you sure you really were in Heaven?”
“I’m really curious as to what you think Heaven looks like,” Cayman admitted.
Before I could launch into my vivid and overly detailed description of cloud cities, Zayne cut in. “I was definitely in Heaven.”
I eyed him. “How can you be sure?”
“This is going to sound crazy, but it was how the air felt—like the perfect temperature. Not hot. Not cold. The right amount of humidity. It was how the place sounded, like a spring morning. It was the smell. The whole place smelled like...”
Wondering what Heaven smelled like to him, I leaned forward.
Zayne cleared his throat as his lashes lowered. “It smelled amazing,” he said, and I sat back, bummed he hadn’t shared. “And the building I was in was like a coliseum, and I’m pretty sure it was constructed of gold.”
Grace and Glory Page 19
