by Alisa Woods
Asa hurried back to his post. “Micah, I wanted to—” He stopped when he realized the state of things. Micah had to be fresh from battle or… something. “What happened?”
Micah braced a hand against the wall by the door. “Summer Court. On the streets.”
Nyssa’s reinforcements. Asa swallowed. Micah was clad in black body armor which masked much of the blood, but a head wound was gushing pretty strongly. “Are you all right?”
Micah pushed away from the wall. “I’ll survive.” Then he teetered in a way that was alarming even to Micah, as evidenced by his widened eyes and grasping at the wall again.
Asa snatched up the chair he’d spent ridiculous numbers of hours slumped uncomfortably in and brought it Micah.
“Don’t need it,” He shoved it away. “Just going in to see Ren.”
Angels of light. “Don’t be a fool.” He slung the chair forward and clamped a hand on Micah’s shoulder to force him into it. Micah pushed away his hand, but the motion unbalanced him, and he ended up in the chair anyway just to keep from tumbling to the floor.
“You’re a mess,” Asa said, speaking the obvious.
Micah waved him off. “I’ll be fine. A visit with Ren will restore me.” He tried to rise from the chair, but it moved and unbalanced him again. He sat back roughly and closed his eyes. “In a moment.”
“No woman wants to see the man she loves in this state,” Asa said, carefully watching Micah’s response.
His eyes popped open, just as Asa had hoped. “Have you spoken to her?” he demanded.
Asa put up his hands. “I have ears.” He smirked. “She at least enjoys your attentions.”
Micah blinked at him—his mind must be addled with pain for how long he took to understand. When he did, he closed his eyes and leaned back. “That is just fucking.”
“Sure. For you.” He tossed that challenge out and counted the seconds it took for Micah to pick it up.
When he did—when he lifted his head—his glare was made of fire. “You know nothing.”
“I know what it is to love a woman with child.” There was simple Truth in that, and Micah had to hear it.
He sat a little straighter. “How do the mothers fare in Zuriel’s Regiment?”
In Truth, he had no idea. But he didn’t hesitate to make the key promise. “Better than they fare here.”
Micah’s dropped gaze, his anguished expression, told Asa all he needed to know. He could explain later the particulars—that he would give the women safe haven in Razael’s Regiment; that Micah needed to help end the war, which meant betraying his father, so all could live in relative peace again—but now Asa would make the essential pitch, the thing all depended on.
“I see how you look at her, Micah.” Asa kept his voice soft, gentle. “You cannot believe she will survive this.”
Micah shook his head, but Asa couldn’t tell if that was an answer or not.
“Let me help you,” Asa said.
Micah looked up sharply. “Who are you?”
Asa grimaced. The Truth would out eventually, but how much to tell now? “I didn’t come here to fight Elyon’s war. I came here seeking you, Micah. To end it.”
Alarm lit his face, and Micah struggled to stand. He reached for his angel blade, but it must have been lost in the battle because the sheath at his side was empty.
Fucking angelings born in shadow—forever suspicious, never trusting, burned by everyone and everything. Those who had Fallen likewise lived in a constant state of threat, but those who grew up in it were more deeply marked. He could see it because he hadn’t been raised that way. The light angels had at least given him some measure of security as a child.
Micah looked to be judging how best to fight him.
“I can save Ren,” Asa said, hands out, clearly not going for his own blade. “I know you love her, Micah. The only question is… do you love her enough to let her go?”
Micah’s grimace said he’d thought this through already. Every excruciating detail. For he had to know her fate in his father’s Regiment with brutal clarity.
“I was waiting for… waiting until…” But he was laboring to breathe, bracing against the wall again.
“Waiting for what? The birth?” Asa guessed. “Then secret her away?”
Micah’s guilty expression said Asa was dead on. But how could the man not see the folly of that? “You would take her child from her, give it over to this…” He gestured roughly to the door of the nursery. “… and expect her to still welcome you in her bed? Are you mad?”
“There is no other way!” Micah slammed a fist against the wall and the black crystal hummed as if a tuning fork had been struck.
Asa glanced around, hoping that wouldn’t bring others bearing down on them. “Maybe before. But now I am offering you another way.”
Micah squinted at him—in judgment or pain, Asa couldn’t be sure. “Why? What is this to you? Why would you risk a dark angel’s Wrath to help me?”
“I’m not doing it for you.” A sudden fury welled up in him, pushed by pain and longing for things that could never be. He jabbed a finger at the door. “I’m doing it for them. All of them. I’m taking them out of here, Micah. Because this is an abomination, and you know it.”
Micah gaped at him. “He will hunt them down.” He shook his head in small, fast movements. Asa had never seen a grown man so terrified. “You don’t know him like I do—”
“I don’t have to,” Asa spat back. “I know full well what he’s capable of.”
Micah’s eyes grew wide. “You’re not from Zuriel’s Regiment, are you?”
The Truth, then. All right. “No. But I can guarantee them full protection under Razael.”
Micah’s eyes closed, and he dropped his head against the wall. “You’re a spy. A spy… and you want me to turn over the woman I love.” He opened his eyes and glared at Asa. “What kind of fool do you think I am?”
“One who knows the only real escape when he sees it.” Asa shook his head. “I didn’t come here to save women and children, Micah. I came here to turn you against your father. To gain your trust. To convince you to end the madness of this war before your father brings the fury of the Warrior Angels down on all our heads. And here I find you clinging like a child to the one beautiful thing in your father’s hellhole of a Regiment.” He couldn’t help the bitterness and anger in his voice. “You don’t have to be an angeling of the light to know the difference between right and wrong. To do what’s right for the woman you love. And your child…” Asa’s fists clenched. “If it were me, there would be no force in the immortal realms that could stop me from giving that child a chance at the light. None save death itself.”
Micah’s eyes had gone wide, his face slack, and holy angels of light, Asa had punched far below the belt with that tirade. But every word was Truth. And Micah had to know it.
“You can save them both?” he whispered.
“I swear on my life.”
Micah nodded—hesitating and weary, but it was a yes. “How?”
The relief was a wash of joy that nearly lifted him off his feet. “Let me work that out.” Asa grimaced at Micah’s wounds. “And you need your strength for this. Go rest. Recover. Gain a life kiss or three. You’re the son of the angel—make it happen. By the time you’re restored, I will have a plan. We’ll execute it together, so you’ll know every detail. You’ll be assured of their safety. And you’ll…you’ll be able to say goodbye.”
Micah nodded, and the yes was more definite now. Then he straightened up from his bracing against the wall, twisted, and disappeared from the hallway.
Asa rubbed his face with both hands and blew out a breath filled with the tension he’d been holding. Holy magic… this was happening. He would make it happen.
He just had to pray Micah would follow through.
Chapter Ten
The wait for dinner was eternal.
Not that Molly was hungry, although she would eat every last scrap—she and the bab
y needed their energy for the night ahead. Ariel had gotten the secret of “travel” from Devon, and she was ready to go, but they mutually decided that after dinner was the best time to leave. The stretch between dinner and breakfast was longest and least likely to be interrupted—least likely for them to be discovered missing.
Molly just prayed this would work.
When dinner finally came, she nearly had a heart attack. Her hot backup plan—Asa—personally delivered it, unlike the previous meals he quickly shoved through the doorway. He kept looking at her during the whole, brief doling out of trays and wrapped ham and cheese sandwiches, but he said nothing. She had ten things on the tip of her tongue ready to blurt out, but they all boiled down to one—are you rescuing us?
The answer to that was clearly no when he closed the door again without a word.
Dammit. The disappointment was a deep hollow in her chest. Not that they had no way out—it was that Asa wouldn’t be a part of that plan. Which, if she was honest with herself, was definitely for the best. Sexy bedroom-eyed angelings were how she got into this mess.
Molly forced herself to eat and finished before the others. “Okay,” she said to Ariel around her last bite. The angeling girl hovered over them as they scarfed down their sandwiches and milk. “Let’s go over this one more time.”
Ariel frowned. “It is not that complex.”
“Just to be sure.” Molly didn’t want to rile their ticket out. Plus Ariel was part of The Sisterhood now. They’d made a vow and everything. “Ren and Eden are carrying the babies. I’m holding hands with Eden, Ren’s holding her arm, and you’re holding onto me. As long as everyone’s connected, we’ll all come through the traveling together.”
“That is correct.” But there was a trace of worry on her forehead.
“What?” Molly demanded.
“Devon says it will work,” she said more definitively.
“I know you haven’t tested it out yet,” Molly said, trying to soothe everyone’s nerves, including her own. “But we’ve got all night to make this happen. If someone gets left behind…” She threw a hopefully reassuring glance at Eden and Ren. “…then we’ll come back for them. Worst comes to worse, Ariel has to ferry each of us out one at a time. But that won’t be a problem, right?”
“It should be easily done.” Somehow Ariel’s voice wasn’t as confident as her words.
But Eden and Ren both nodded.
Eden was looking better—she’d rallied as soon as Molly explained they were making their escape tonight. Then Eden had let the babies occupy her attention like she usually did. Babies were good for that—they’d take all the attention you could shower on them.
But Ren was in a state.
Her eyes were totally bloodshot. She’d pretended not to be sobbing into her pillow, as if that fooled anyone. Micah had really done a number on her this time—all he wanted was to fuck, and when Ren tried to talk to him again about leaving before the baby came, he’d stormed out in a huff. Asshole. And while Molly hated to see Ren broken-hearted, it was probably for the best—this way she wouldn’t be tempted to stay. But it still sucked to have a fight be the last conversation you had with the father of your baby.
Molly sighed. There was nothing to be done about it now. “You ready?” she asked Ren and Eden, but mostly Ren.
“Yes.” Eden was expertly balancing little Eva on her hip. She reached her hand to Molly, and she grabbed hold.
Ren sniffed. Her hands were full with Ralphie cradled to her chest and her other hand holding onto Eden’s shoulder. “Yeah. Let’s go,” she said softly.
Molly turned to Ariel and extended her hand. “We’re ready.”
Ariel slipped her hand into Molly’s then peered into her eyes. “Tell me again what the ocean looks like.”
Molly frowned. “I thought maybe we’d go to my apartment first.”
“I have to envision it,” Ariel insisted. “I can sense your longing for the mortal realm, but I’ve never been there. I need… a magical signature. Something to guide me.”
Molly’s stomach clenched. “That story wasn’t real, Ariel.” Good God, please don’t let this go sideways now, she prayed.
“I know. I am not a child.” Ariel scowled.
But she was—just a girl. And she held their fate in her hands.
Molly bit her lip. “So you want me to…” She was lost, clawing her way through a surge of panic.
“Describe the ocean,” Ariel said very seriously. “In as much detail as you can. The magic of the human realm will guide me.”
Holy shit, this was not going to work. Molly swallowed and tried to shove the panic away. “The ocean is big. So vast that it reaches out into the distance and touches the sky. Light scatters on the ripples and waves that the wind makes, small peaks that come in to the shore. But the shore is really a pier where the boats pull in.” She closed her eyes to imagine it better. It was Pier 52, the Bainbridge Island Ferry—she had visited it often, sometimes just to hang out on the dock, sometimes to take the ride out to the islands. “The ferry boat is three stories tall, and it sounds a horn as it pulls into the dock. The cars and passengers are waiting to disembark. The smell of saltwater spray hangs in the air. A seagull soars overhead, looking for snacks dropped by the passengers from the last ride out. The water sloshes against the tall wooden pilings that hold up the dock. You can hear the ocean lapping at the manmade shore, gently tapping, reminding it that the water is deep and strong and cold… and it’s always been there, but the humans have not.” She was so lost in her description, her stomach cramping up in a desperate wish for it to be real, that it suddenly seemed real. She could smell the salt, feel the sun against her cheek, hear the creaking of the pilings.
Ariel gasped next to her and dropped her hand.
Oh no.
But when Molly opened her eyes… they were there.
“You did it,” Molly breathed.
Ariel stood as still as a statue, mouth hanging open, staring at the enormous ferry docked in front.
“You did it!” Molly repeated and threw her arms around the angeling girl, hugging her hard. Tears were blurring her vision, and she just wanted to screech out her unbelievable joy, but they were already making a scene. They were up high—perched on a pedestrian bridge between where the cars lined up for the ferry and the shops on the dock—and they were alone for the moment, but lots of people milled below.
Molly released Ariel and wiped her eyes. Eden and Ren were there, holding the babies and each other. They’d done it!
Then a brush of black feathers against her arm almost made her shriek. But it was just Ariel, flexing her wings, still staring in astonishment all around her.
“Ariel!” Molly hissed. “Your wings!”
The girl gave her a look like she was crazed, then her attention snapped to the sounds of a child below the bridge. He was pointing up at them. Ariel quickly furled her wings in—they melted into her back like the magic they were, but she still stood out in her black toga and bare feet. They all must look like escapees from a mental ward with their matching, loose gray pants and shirts.
“Everyone okay?” Molly asked, running a quick look over them all. Ralphie had slept through the whole thing, but the sunlight was waking up Eva.
Ren shaded her eyes. “How is it suddenly morning?”
Molly shook her head. “I don’t know.” But it was—the sun was still low, barely risen over the towers of downtown Seattle, and shadows were long across the water and the ferry.
“It doesn’t matter,” Eden breathed, a smile on her face brighter than any Molly had ever seen. “We’re home.”
Molly bit her lip. There was a crowd gathering underneath them, ferry passengers staring up. “Not quite yet.” She gripped Ariel by the shoulder. The girl was mesmerized by a seagull perched on one of the pilings. “Ariel!” Her attention snapped to Molly. “We can’t stay here, and I don’t have any money for an uber.”
“What is money?” Ariel asked. “And an uber?�
�
Oh boy. “Look, this will all be better if you can just take us to my apartment, okay?” She had no phone or keys or literally anything but an angeling-crafted knife made of utensils in her pocket. And she was out of a job, too, which was a whole different problem. But she could make everything work. She had to. “I just need to get back to my home.”
“I think…” Ariel’s eyes just kept getting bigger. “I think I can find your home.” The skyscrapers. The dock smells. The honking horns of traffic carrying across the pavement from downtown. Ariel was looking more and more freaked out.
“Just close your eyes,” Molly said, “and listen to my voice.”
Ariel nodded rapidly and squeezed her eyes shut. Molly grabbed her hand and motioned for the others to take hold again. Then she started describing her apartment. It wasn’t much—just a one bedroom in a downtown tower—but it had pieces of her in it. A picture of her parents and her as a kid. One sad houseplant she’d nursed through the winter—now it had to be dead. Did she even have any money left? Her rent was on autopay… Four months she’d been in hell. And now a dark angeling girl child was bringing her home. Tears sprung to Molly’s eyes as she kept describing her place. The dingy carpet that needed to be replaced. The two hooks by the door that held her keys. The super plush maroon towels that she’d bought with her first paycheck at the law firm—her first present to herself as a real, legit adult. The tiny, glass kitchen table meant for a couple, but was barely big enough for her—
Molly’s eyes were open this time when they moved.
One instant, they were on the dock; the next, they were standing in her apartment. The time between wrenched her stomach just a little, but most jarring was just suddenly being somewhere else.
All the air whooshed out of her in relief.
Everyone made it, and this time, there were smiles all around. Both babies were awake now and fussing, but Eden and Ren were all grins. Even Ariel seemed relieved, her shoulders not so hunched up.
“This is your home?” she asked, tentative.
“Yes!” Molly beamed. “You did it.”