“I said you died for me, not because of me,” I corrected.
“How is that any different?” He turned his head just slightly, and I could see that there was no wound under his chin. I hadn’t cut him deep, but he’d already healed. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
I couldn’t see beyond his wings, but it didn’t take a leap of logic to figure that Dez had been about to do something really brave and really stupid. And that he’d listened to Zayne’s warning.
“Smart choice,” Zayne said, his gaze settling back on me. There was a brief moment where I got to really look at that golden hue of his skin—at the luminosity that hadn’t been there before Gabriel killed him. It was a subtle glow that probably wouldn’t be noticeable to most, but it was his grace.
My stomach dropped. He truly was packed full of heavenly fire, and I knew if any Warden went toe to toe with him, to serve as a distraction for me to strike, they wouldn’t survive. If Dez went after him...
I thought of Dez’s wife, Jasmine, and how kind she’d been to me, and of his twin babies. He should be far, far from here.
But Zayne was in front of me, and I had to try, no matter the risk. No matter how selfish it was.
I managed to keep my voice level when I said, “We’ve been looking for you.”
“I know.”
“Is that so?” I worked hard to hide how his response unnerved me. “Why have you waited until now to make that known? Last time I saw you, you got up all in my face.”
“I did,” he replied without emotion. “But I’ve been busy.”
My heart seized with dread. Were there more bodies, ones we just hadn’t found? “With the dead guy behind us? That kind of busy?”
Zayne knelt, dropping down and tucking back his wings so quickly that I gasped. Our faces were only a few inches apart, and as close as we were, I could see that it wasn’t just the color of his eyes that was different. The unearthly glow of grace was behind his pupils.
“Do you mourn his death?” he asked, the question startling me. The fact that he was kneeling with his back to Dez told both of us he didn’t remotely view the Warden as a threat. “Do you think he died an unjust death?”
“Why did you kill him?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes,” I said. “It does.”
He eyed me coolly. “That man, if you could even call him that, was nothing more than the worst of predators. I sensed all his sin.”
My heart tripped. “What...what do you mean?”
“I can sense the sin of man—their darkest, innermost thoughts,” he repeated in a tone that suggested he didn’t think I had two working brain cells to rub together. His gaze flicked up to the body behind me, and I mentally cursed the Throne for forgetting to fill me in on this new talent of his. “He didn’t just have thoughts about children. He had memories of what he’d done.”
I put two and two together and ended up with the taste of bile in my throat. I didn’t know if it was right or wrong to feel a little bit of relief to know that the man had not been a good dude. Murder was bad and all, but if what Zayne claimed was true, I couldn’t really feel all that bad for him. I just didn’t know what that meant for Zayne.
Or for me.
But whatever.
“You’re making a bad decision,” Zayne said, jolting me out of my thoughts. He was watching me, but he wasn’t speaking to me.
What was Dez doing?
“I’m feeling overly generous right now,” Zayne said. “But take one more step and it will be the last step you take.”
Did he have eyes in the back of his head? I had no idea, but the cold threat carried the weight of truth. It was clear that it was his last warning.
Staring at him, I tried to reconcile the fact that even with the flatness of his tone and the predatory gleam in his eyes, it looked like Zayne. Yes, there were things that were different. The glow and the wings. But I couldn’t process how changed he was. How could his Fall erase everything? Was the Glory—his soul—that powerful? Were there any memories of his life in him or just vague sensations associated with a consciousness he was no longer connected to? Was that why I felt familiar to him, but he didn’t know why? Or care? Or was the reason why he killed the Ghoul, why he hadn’t snapped my neck, because that consciousness still drove him on some primal, basic level he couldn’t understand? Was it too late?
“Are you even still in there?” I whispered.
There was a flicker of emotion that tightened the skin around his eyes and mouth. Confusion? I thought so. It reminded me of how he’d stared at me when I’d touched his cheek instead of striking him.
If he was truly lost, he wouldn’t feel confusion now. At least, that’s what I thought—what I had to think. “Do you still feel too much?” I asked, remembering what he and the Throne had said about his Fall. “Do you know what you were before tonight? Who you were?”
He said nothing.
“You were a Warden, like him. You were my Protector, bonded to me. You died protecting me. Do you not remember that?”
Zayne’s chest rose with a sharp breath.
“You did that because you love me and not because of any bond or duty,” I rushed on. “Do you not remember anything before Falling? Do you even remember your name?”
“I told you what you can call me,” he snarled, sending a chill across my skin.
“What? Death? Fallen? That’s not your name. It’s Zayne,” I stated, forcing everything I felt into the words. All of my love and fear for him, all my hope and my pain. “Do you remember his name? The Warden? He’s like a brother to you—”
“Stop.” He twisted his neck from side to side, eyes closing briefly. “This is irrelevant. Who I was doesn’t matter—”
“How can it not matter?” I argued. “You can’t just be anger and hatred. That can’t be all that you are. You didn’t just start existing the moment you landed in the park. You had an entire life. You are kind and good and fair. You love. You grieve. You—”
“I am none of those things!” he roared, wings snapping out and spreading wide. The luminous glow intensified, pulsing so brightly that pain shot through my eyes. Golden-white light sparked from his arms, from both arms—
Several things happened at once.
I knew he was summoning his grace, and while I was curious to see what kind of weapon it would produce, I wasn’t stupid enough to find out. Dez shouted his name, shouted something else, and Zayne spun around. The edges of his wings glanced over my cheek in the softest caress as they rose high above me. I filed that away to obsess over later, surprised he hadn’t whacked me over the head with them. Focused on Dez, his back was to me, and this was the moment. He was distracted, and I couldn’t let him reach Dez. This was my chance to either bring him back or...
Or give him peace.
He stepped away from me, and I called on my grace. Finally unleashed, it powered through me, turning the corners of my vision white. Grace powered down my right arm as I popped to my feet—
Zayne whirled so quickly it was almost unbelievable. He caught my right arm before my grace could even reach my wrist. Spinning me around, he clamped his other arm around my waist, drawing me back against him. The contact of his cold skin was a shock as he trapped my left arm to my side. “I don’t think so.”
The Sword of Michael flamed brightly, spitting and crackling heavenly fire, but his grip was like a vise. I could barely move my wrist. He’d known I was summoning the grace. I’d gone beyond stunned and straight into what the Hell territory. “How did you know?”
“I could feel it coming alive. I can feel it now, inside you. Calling to me,” he answered, pressing his cool cheek to mine. “It’s a fire in my blood and my bone. How could I not know?”
“That’s a nifty and inconvenient ability,” I snapped, barely resisting the urge to shriek. The Throne had insinu
ated such a thing, but he could’ve been way more clear about what he meant by Zayne being able to sense my grace.
“Isn’t it?” His hand splayed across my hip. “You were going to attack me while my back was to you. Thought you loved me?”
Heart thumping against my ribs, I was acutely aware of how close his hand was to the hilt of my dagger and the grip he had on my wrist. It wasn’t a painful hold. That seemed important to remember. “I do love you. I love you more than anything—”
“Doesn’t seem like a very loving thing to do.” His chin dragged along my cheek as his head shifted just the slightest. “Perhaps you don’t value your life, because I would swear you just moved after I warned you not to. Maybe you value her life more? Keep moving, and I will kill her and then you.”
The Warden froze, but a low, rumbling growl radiated from him.
Zayne chuckled, and the sound was so icy I shivered. “Is that supposed to scare me?”
“Yes.” Dez clawed hands closed into fists. “It should.”
“It doesn’t.”
I pulled at his grip, but I got nowhere with the sword. It jutted out into empty space. “You’re not going to kill me.”
“I’m not?”
“If you were, you would’ve done it already,” I gritted out, still struggling.
“Perhaps I like playing with you.” He moved his head again, gliding his cheek along mine in a way that was shockingly familiar and wholly different. “Maybe I will grow bored. Maybe I won’t? But what I do know is you’re going to burn yourself out the longer you pull on your grace, little nephilim.”
“Of course you would remember that over everything else.” Using everything in me, which was a lot, I pulled against his arm and his hold. A scream of frustration burst from me. I hadn’t even moved an inch.
“You sound angry, little nephilim.”
“It’s not nephilim! It’s Trueborn!”
Lifting my foot, I slammed it down on his bare one. Zayne yelped, more out of surprise than pain, but his hold on my waist loosened just enough. I ripped free, swinging my left arm down on the one that held mine. His fingers slipped an inch as I spun under his arm, twisting it. Edges of soft feathers tickled my cheek as a dark shape landed next to me. Dez reached for Zayne’s arm, teeth bared.
One second I was so close to breaking Zayne’s hold—so close to using the Sword of Michael—and the next I was swept off my feet and into the air. My grace sputtered out as I hit the grass. The impact was brutal, but it could’ve been worse. I could’ve been Dez.
He slammed into one of the fountain basins, cracking the stone. He dropped into the pool of water.
Zayne had flung both of us like we were paper planes, but somehow I ended up in a much softer, kinder to the body area. Dez was in his Warden form. He’d be fine, but if I had hit the basin at that kind of speed, I would be out like a light.
I started to pull on my grace. It flared weakly in my chest, just below my heart. I shouldn’t be as tapped out as I was now. It had to be the fact my body was still healing itself from Gabriel’s beatdown, because I shouldn’t be this exhausted.
Wings stirred my hair, serving as a warning that Zayne was near. I flipped onto my side, tipping my head back. He stood above me, grace rippling through his widespread wings. Our gazes met and then held. He watched me, nostrils flared, as I struggled to my feet, not breaking eye contact. The opportunity to take me out was endless. At any point, he could end my life before I even realized what was happening. But he made no move against me. Maybe it was foolish naivety or desperation, but hope surged through me. If he was truly lost and saw me as nothing more than a threat and a challenge—and apparently a very poor one at the moment—he would take me out.
But he didn’t.
He cocked his head as I stepped toward him, but he didn’t move. Heart fluttering like a trapped bird, I took another step and then another, not stopping until there was only an inch or two separating us.
I had no idea what overtook me. Maybe I knocked a few important brain cells loose. Would make sense considering how many times I’d been thrown around in the last week. Or maybe I was too stupid to live. “Are you going to kill me now?”
A muscle ticked along his jaw.
Each breath I took was too shallow, too quick. “You could do it, right? Not even break a sweat. Why haven’t you?”
His eyes widened slightly. “Do you want to die?”
I shook my head. “I want you. That’s what I want. I want you back.”
His brows knitted, and then I saw his gaze drop to my mouth. The predatory glint to his features changed, becoming intense in a wholly different way. Inherently, I recognized that look and the sudden tautness of need, of want. It was one of the first human things I’d seen from him since he returned. His lips parted, and I didn’t know if he was about to say something or not. I moved faster than I realized I could right then. Reaching up, I clasped his chilled cheeks as I stretched onto the tips of my toes. I pulled his head down to mine, and I pressed my lips to his.
I kissed him.
The feel of him was the same in some ways. His skin was smooth under my palms. The shape and form of his lips were the same. He still tasted of fresh, morning air. But that was where the similarity ended. He didn’t move. His lips were too cold. I wasn’t sure if he breathed as I tilted my head, praying and begging for some reaction that proved Zayne was still in there, that he hadn’t completely become this inhuman creature.
There was nothing.
Tears pricked at my eyes. I kissed him again and again, my cheeks becoming damp—
Then Zayne changed.
His mouth yielded under mine, softening and opening. He tilted his head, aligning his mouth with mine more fully, and I could’ve screamed hallelujah, but that would’ve been weird and counterproductive at the moment. That was the last thing I wanted to be. I felt the touch of his tongue, and that wasn’t cold. My body flushed. It wasn’t just me kissing him. He was kissing me back, and it didn’t remain soft or questioning. It deepened, becoming hungry and wild, consuming and potent. A wave of shivers pimpled my skin. A deep rumbling sound came from the back of his throat, and the flush became even hotter. The tips of his fingers touched my cheek, my hair. His hand flattened, his skin cool but warming against mine—
Zayne jerked his head away so suddenly I almost toppled over. In a daze, I opened my eyes and saw that he was standing several feet away, under one of the bright park lights. Even I could see that his chest was rising and falling as sharply as mine.
“You’re still in there,” I whispered.
His head twisted to the left and then to the right, stretching the tendons of his neck as his eyes closed. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“That’s okay,” I said, wiping the tears from my face with shaking hands. “Because he does.”
“Who?” he asked hoarsely.
“Zayne.”
His eyes flew open. Those wings lifted, arcing high, and for a long moment, I thought I had it all wrong. He was going to use the grace burning through his wings against me, and that Throne was going to be real disappointed in me.
“I’m done playing with you,” he warned. “The next time I see you, I will kill you.”
And with that, he snapped those powerful wings down and lifted off. He rose so fast he was like a star ascending instead of falling. He shot into the night sky, rapidly becoming nothing more than memory.
Water sloshed as Dez climbed out of the fountain, grunting as he hit the ground. “Did you seriously just kiss him?”
“I did.” I didn’t take my eyes off the night sky. The darker shapes of the clouds that had lingered since yesterday’s rainstorm were clearing. Wet warmth trickled out from my nose. I reached up, wiping the blood away before it could hit the ground.
“I honestly don’t even know what to say about that.”
&nb
sp; “He’s still in there.” I squinted and then closed my right eye, the one with the thicker cataracts.
There was a pause of silence. “You sure about that, Trinity? Because there was nothing about that thing that behaved like Zayne.”
I saw them. Tiny specks of light. I saw stars. “Yes. I’m sure.”
9
For the second night in a row, I limped back into the empty apartment in the dead of the night. Kicking off my shoes by the door, I dropped the key card on the counter and then headed straight for the shower. This time, there was only dirt and the pieces of grass that had somehow ended up in my hair circling the drain. No blood. I reckoned that was an improvement as I pulled on one of Zayne’s clean shirts. It made for a pretty decent sleep shirt, and at the current moment, I doubted he cared.
Gathering up the blanket and pillow from where I left them on the couch, I brought them back into the bedroom—into the one that was supposed to be ours. Using an aching hip to close the door, I turned to the bed. The soft white glow from the ceiling wasn’t nearly enough light, but I shuffled forward, squinting into the darkness—
My knee cracked off the frame of the bed. The sting of pain was deep and throbbing. “Crap.”
Breathing through the obnoxiously intense pain, I dropped the blanket onto the bed and tossed the pillow to the head. Then I climbed in and, after taking a deep breath, I looked up at the ceiling. The pang to my heart felt like a stab wound as I tracked the faint light from each star randomly scattered across the ceiling.
Back in the Potomac Highlands, I had stars on my ceiling. Some may find them incredibly gaudy, but it was so difficult for me to see the real ones. Half of the time when I thought I saw a star, I was actually seeing lights from a plane or a cell phone tower. One day, a day I could tell was rapidly approaching, I would look up to the sky and no longer be able to see something as simple and stunning as a sky blanketed with stars.
Zayne had known how important being able to see stars, even fake, glow in the darkness was to me. What he’d done by placing them on the ceiling, during a time that I’d been convinced that he hated me and so regretted the Protector bond, was one of the most beautiful things anyone could ever have done for me. That was the Zayne I knew was still inside the fallen angel.
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