Grace and Glory

by Armentrout, Jennifer L.

  I took the bag, trying not to cringe. “You have two swords and can tell if a person is a good or bad dude. Why do you have to be so special?”

  That got a smile out of him before he turned to pick up the shirt he’d draped over the couch. My gaze fixed on the raised imprint of his wings, and I thought about what Layla had said when she saw my aura. It was both pure white and pure black.

  Good and...what? Bad? Layla had said that the darker the shade of the aura meant more sin, but she’d never seen a human with a black aura.

  Holding the bagged feather, which felt like I was holding a finger or something, I watched him pull the shirt on and tug it into place. When he faced me, I opened my mouth and the question sort of spewed out of me. “What do you feel when you focus on me? What is my intention?”

  “Other than to drive me crazy?” he asked, tucking the sides of his hair back.

  I nodded. “Other than that.”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t tried to find out. Not on you or the others when they were here. It doesn’t seem right to do so for no reason.”

  I stared at him and then sighed.

  “What?”

  “Why do you have to be so good? I would be peeking at everyone’s soul every chance I got.”

  He chuckled as he dipped his head and kissed me. “Let’s head out and take care of this feather thing.”

  Lips tingling from the brief contact, I trailed after him. He picked up his keys from the island, where he’d last dropped them, and stopped. No one had touched them since then. Holding them in his palm, he stared down at them.

  “Are you okay?” I touched his arm.

  Clearing his throat, he glanced over at me. “Yeah. I am.” His fingers curled around the keys. “Have you seen my phone, by the way?”

  I shook my head. “It was...it was on you that night. I haven’t seen it since.”

  “I bet Nic or Dez has it, then. They would’ve been the ones to gather up my...personal belongings. I guess they didn’t think of bringing it with them when they came by. Probably because they...”

  I knew where he was going with that. They probably feared Zayne hadn’t returned to them and bringing his belongings would somehow jinx everything. Clutching the baggie to my chest, I asked, “Does it feel weird? Thinking about having died? Okay. That’s a lame question. Obviously it has to feel weird.”

  “It does.” He took my hand in his. “Especially when I think about the fact my body would’ve done the whole dust thing and yet I’m here.”

  I shivered. “Same. That messes with my head and it’s not even my body.”

  “So, let’s not dwell on that, okay?”

  “I can do that.” I squeezed his hand as we stepped into the elevator.

  We reached the garage in record time, and when he saw his Impala, he looked like me when I saw a cheeseburger.

  He placed his palm on the trunk, sliding it across the smooth metal as he walked us to the passenger door. I could make out a grin in the dim, yellowing light of the garage, something I knew I wouldn’t have been able to see before.

  “Do you want some time alone?” I offered as his hand glided over the back door. “You know, in case you want to make out with your car in private.”

  Zayne laughed as he opened the passenger door. “Get in.”

  “Bossy.” I glanced down at where he held my hand. “You’re going to have to let go.”

  “I know.”

  My brows lifted. “Before we can get into the car.”

  “I know,” he repeated, but this time, he lowered his mouth to mine as his other hand curled around the nape of my neck. It was a deep and fierce kiss, sending a rolling wave of heat through me. I wondered if he could devour me with just one kiss. I was so willing to engage in a little public indecency and find out, right here, in the parking garage. But he lifted his head, nipping at my lower lip in a way that sent a curling motion through my stomach.

  “Goodness,” I whispered as he let go of my hand. “You’re really happy to see your car, aren’t you?”

  “After we deal with the Crone, how about we find out?” he suggested.

  A flutter moved from my chest to my stomach and then lower. “I am so okay with that.”

  “Then let’s get this over with as quick as possible.”

  I all but threw myself into the passenger seat. Letting the bagged feather rest in my lap, I buckled myself up as Zayne climbed in behind the wheel. He took a moment, checking the rearview mirror, gripping the steering wheel and straightening the visor before turning the key. The engine purred to life, and the smile that broke out across his face caused my heart to squeeze.

  Shifting the gears into Reverse, he looked over at me. “Where’s your sunglasses?”

  “Lost them.”

  “Again?”

  “Again.”

  “Man, we’re going to have to start ordering them in bulk.”

  “So I can start losing them in bulk?”

  “Maybe we need to get a sunglasses subscription service for you, then.” He reached over, opening the glove department. He pulled out a pair of silver aviator-style sunglasses. “These aren’t that dark, but they’ll work until we can get you another pair.”

  “Thank you.” I took the sunglasses and slipped them on. “How do I look? Badass?”

  “Beautiful.” He backed the Impala out. “And badass.”

  My smile was so big I was sure I looked like the biggest dweeb known to man, and the smile pretty much remained there as we drove to the Hotel Witchy. We chatted about Peanut and made plans to stop by the Warden compound to retrieve his phone after we made a pit stop at a drugstore...to purchase a pregnancy test for the first time in my life.

  Fun times.

  We arrived at the hotel, parking in the nearby garage. When we entered the hotel and I went to push up the sunglasses, Zayne took them from me.

  “I think I’ll have better luck with them,” he said, hooking an arm of the sunglasses around the collar of his shirt.

  “Probably.”

  As we rode the elevator up to the thirteenth floor and walked the hall to the restaurant, I wasn’t at all worried about whether the Crone would be here. I had a feeling she knew exactly what day we’d return.

  And wouldn’t you know, Rowena was behind the hostess’s table, and before either of us could speak, she stepped out behind it and said in the most annoyed voice possible, “This way, please.”

  I raised a brow as my gaze swept the dimly lit interior. “You really love these little visits, don’t you?”

  “I await them with bated breath,” she responded.

  I smirked as Zayne’s brows lifted. “That’s right. You’ve never had the pleasure of being greeted by Rowena. She’s always so eager to see me here.”

  “I can tell,” Zayne replied flatly.

  Rowena said nothing as she led us past the partition wall. Like before, everything but the round table in the middle of the room had been removed. Only three chairs were positioned at the table, and the Crone sat this time facing us. The table was bare of plates and glasses, and I had a sudden feeling that after this meeting, the table and chairs would disappear.

  And so would the Crone.

  Her shirt was the brightest pink I’d ever seen, and something...glittered across the front of it.

  “How old is she?” Zayne whispered to me.

  “Older than you think I look,” the Crone answered. Apparently her hearing wasn’t affected by age. “Come. Sit with me,” she called, her head tilted toward Zayne.

  As we got closer, there was no mistaking the look of awe that settled into the lined, deep brown skin as she stared up at Zayne.

  And there was also no mistaking what was bedazzled across her shirt in purple crystals. DON’T FLIP MY WITCH SWITCH.

  Nice.

  Zayne pulle
d out the chair to the Crone’s left for me to sit. I murmured my thanks.

  The Crone chuckled as she watched Zayne take the seat to her right. “A Fallen with manners?” The skin at the corners of her eyes creased even further. “Or a Fallen who is in love?”

  “The latter would probably be a more accurate observation,” Zayne answered, and my heart did a little jig in my chest.

  Her lips turned up in a smile as she leaned toward Zayne. “You are something I’d never seen before, unique before even now. A Warden who befriended demons, something that has always set you above others. You achieved restoration of your Glory, a nearly impossible feat, and you gave away heavenly acceptance for love. Now, a Fallen with heavenly fire coursing through your veins. I’ve waited a very long time to say this. You have always been undervalued and underrated, but that has changed.” Her gaze roamed over Zayne. “You’re magnificent.”

  “I really like her,” Zayne said to me. “Should’ve come here sooner.”

  The Crone batted her white-tipped eyelashes—actually fluttered them at Zayne. “You are always welcome.” She lifted a small hand, stopping short before touching his arm. “May I?”

  Muscles tensed as Zayne nodded for her to continue. I didn’t think she would be stupid enough to try something, but then again, people were generally stupid.

  The Crone placed her hand on his arm. Her eyes drifted shut for a moment. “Yes,” she said softly. “You are utterly unique.”

  I rolled my eyes. “He’s going to end up with a huge ego if you keep this up.”

  “But it is an ego well deserved,” the Crone replied, slipping her hand from Zayne’s skin. “Do you not agree?”

  “I agree,” I muttered.

  Zayne shot me a half grin. “We owe you a thank-you, Crone.”

  “Is that so?” Bushy white brows lifted.

  Zayne nodded. “You gave her the means to help me.”

  “But those means did not come without strings,” the Crone reminded us.

  “I know.” I lifted the baggie. “We have your feather.”

  Her smile grew as she eyed the bag. “I knew you would not fail.” Those eyes, as sharp as anyone half her age—whatever that age was—rose to mine. “You feared that you would. No one would blame you for that. Either you restored him or ended him, and that is no action taken lightly.”

  “No.” I placed the baggie on the table. “It wasn’t.”

  “I like you,” the Crone said.

  “As much as you like him?” I countered.

  Her laugh was raspy. “I like both of you. Together. You’re two halves meant to be one. Always have been. Always will be.”

  There was a skipping motion in my chest as she looked down at the feather. “It’s sad, is it not? What Gabriel plots to do to this world and to Heaven.”

  I stilled. I’d never shared with her what Gabriel planned...or that he was the Harbinger, but I wasn’t exactly surprised that she knew. “I could think of a stronger adjective to describe what he plans, but yes.”

  She nodded slowly. “I’ve lived a long time, but I never thought I’d live to see the end of days.”

  My breath caught.

  “We won’t allow that to happen,” Zayne spoke up.

  “No, I do not think you two will,” she said, and confusion rose as she curled gnarled fingers around the top of the baggie. “Not now at least.”

  I glanced at Zayne and saw that his perplexed expression most likely matched mine. “I’m not really tracking what you’re saying.”

  “I don’t suspect you will. Not for a very long time.”

  Well, that statement sure didn’t clear anything up.

  The Crone lifted the bag, holding it in one hand as she ran her fingers along the outline of the feather.

  “You going to tell us what you plan to do with that feather?” I asked.

  She looked over at me as she opened the baggie. “Nothing as dangerous as what you plan.”

  “And what do you think I plan?” I countered.

  “She has a long list of dangerous things,” Zayne tacked on, helpful as always.

  The Crone only smiled. “Sometimes you got to raise a little Hell to get things done.”

  25

  Istared at her as tiny goose bumps broke out over my skin.

  “Thank you for this,” she said, nodding at me and then Zayne as the man from the last time I’d been here appeared, still wearing a suit. He carried a champagne glass to the table and placed it front of the Crone. The liquid was a frothy pink.

  “I told you that there are all manner of things that can be accomplished with a feather from one who has Fallen.” The Crone slipped said item from the bag. “Especially one who still carries grace within them. There is only one other in this world and beyond, but his...well, I’m not quite sure any beauty can be accomplished with his feather.”

  “You talking about Lucifer?” I watched her curl the feather in her hand.

  “Who else?” She held her hand over the opening of the glass. Her lips moved, her voice too fast and low for me to understand, but whatever she said sounded like a prayer to me.

  Zayne shifted across from me, his brows knitted as he watched the Crone.

  “I’m leaving the city today,” she continued, opening her hand. Flecks of crumbled feather dusted in golden light fell into the glass. “Heading south to visit my grandbabies.”

  “Sounds like as good a time as any to get out of the city,” I commented as she dropped what was left of the poor feather onto the table.

  The Crone picked up the champagne glass. “But I doubt they will recognize me.”

  My heart thumped against my chest as she lifted the glass to her lips. I started to move forward—

  “It’s okay,” Zayne said, voice low. “Whatever she is doing, it’s okay.”

  He was sensing her intentions—her soul—and whatever he was feeling didn’t concern him. I guessed that was good since she took a drink of whatever the hell she’d concocted...and kept drinking.

  And drinking.

  My eyes widened as she downed the entire glass in one gulp like she was a pro at doing shots.

  “Goodness,” she whispered hoarsely, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth as she let out a little belch. “Woo, that has a bite. Tangy.”

  Slowly, I looked over at Zayne. He blinked, his head jerking back. “Holy...”

  My gaze snapped back to the Crone and my jaw hit the floor. “Shit...”

  I don’t know what I was expecting when I looked at her, but what I saw wasn’t anything on the potential WTF list.

  It was like watching someone age...in reverse.

  Her snowy white hair thickened and darkened to the shade of midnight, lengthening as the springy curls became defined. The skin of her forehead smoothed and the heavy lines by her eyes and bracketing her mouth disappeared. Her cheeks and lips plumped as her jawline became defined. Her body shuddered, her back straightening and her shoulders lifting. The chest of the bright pink shirt lifted and the dark spots along the hand still holding the champagne flute vanished as if someone had taken an eraser to them.

  My jaw was still on the floor when she tipped her head back and the lines around her throat faded. She swallowed, lowering her head.

  Her eyebrows were the last to change. They thinned and darkened, following the graceful curve of her brow bone, and now I was staring at someone who appeared to be no older than her late twenties or early thirties.

  Someone who was stunningly gorgeous.

  The Crone placed the empty glass on the table. “Why age gracefully when you can erase the years with a drink and a spell?”

  I closed my mouth, having literally nothing to say in response to what I just witnessed.

  She smiled, her gaze flicking between the two of us as she rose from the chair with the fluidity o
f someone who didn’t look like they’d break a hip. “It’s time for me to leave.”

  “Okay,” I mumbled.

  “I wish you both blessings in the battles to come,” she said.

  I found myself standing beside Zayne. Battles? As in plural? Zayne steered me around, his hand on my lower back.

  “Trueborn?” she called, and I stopped, looking over my shoulder. “He may not be your Protector, but he is still a source of your strength. Remember that when the snow falls.”

  * * *

  “Well, that was interesting,” Zayne said once we returned to the Impala. “And not at all expected.”

  I let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah. Wow. Your feathers are like a...a mommy makeover.”

  “I don’t think that was just my feather,” he pointed out, looking over at me. The lines of his face were barely visible in the shadowy interior. “I’m just glad that’s what she used my feather for.”

  “Same,” I agreed. “I still can’t believe I just saw that. At first, I thought it was my eyes.”

  “You and me both.” He reached over, fixing the twisted hem of my shirt. “I felt like she was telling us something important, but I’m too stupid to figure out what it was.”

  “She makes being vague an art form. The battles to come? As in more than one? I really hope that was just for dramatic effect because I really want to take a vacay after we defeat Gabriel.”

  “Where would you like to go?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Come on.” He tugged lightly on my shirt. “I’m sure there are people and places you want to see.”

  “I...” My lips pursed. “I would like to go visit Jada and Thierry.”

  “We can do that. What else? Someplace you’ve never been.”

  I tipped my head back against the seat. “Maybe go to a...beach? Like not a superbusy one. I’ve never stepped into the sea and I’d like to see the ocean before, you know, so I would like to do that. And I’ve always wanted to see the Hollywood sign. I know that sounds cheesy.”

  “It doesn’t,” he said. “Where else?”

  “Like anywhere?”