by C. L. Coffey
“They are freshly baked maritozzos,” Gabriel said.
As I took a bite, I was fairly certain that translated to ‘heaven in your mouth.’ They were delicious. A sweet bread and sweeter cream—definitely the perfect breakfast.
I’d eaten two when David knocked on the door and walked in. “Good afternoon, bella. Welcome back to Italy.” He turned to Gabriel. “I can come back later if this isn’t a good time, my friend?”
Gabriel shook his head, gesturing to the couch. “Please. You said you had news.”
David walked over to the couch and sat. “I do. After we spoke last time, I reached out again to the angels in the House I had spent time in to seek out the cherub who knew about the baby. I’m afraid, with how things turned out with Raphael and Paddy, and with Savannah and Zachary taking over, many of the cherubim have left the House. However, one of the angels said they were certain the cherub was in London.”
“There is no House in London,” Gabriel said.
“She is another cherub who went rogue, but I believe she volunteers at a soup kitchen. I have the address. Her name is Siobhan.”
Gabriel looked over at me. “How does a trip to London sound?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Thankfully, I’d finished eating the maritozzo because my mouth dropped open. “Definitely, but what about school?”
“It’s Sunday, and we will be back in time for you to get a decent night’s sleep before your exams tomorrow.” Gabriel reminded me. “You finish eating. I’ll let Ursula know we won’t be returning until later.”
Still stunned, I could only nod as Gabriel and David left me alone in the room. I was in Italy, and I was about to go to England.
Me?
The girl who didn’t own a passport and has never dreamed I would ever be able to leave the US?
While eating a third maritozzo, I picked my phone up from the arm of the chair and quickly sent a message to Leigh-Ann to let her know I wasn’t going to be back like I expected, but I was now going to London.
A flood of messages came through ranging from a stream of emojis to a long list of things I needed to do in London.
Calm down, I told her. We’re going to find out more information about the Watchers.
I expect a full report when you’re done, she texted back. On both the Watchers and what you and G did in London!
A short while later, Gabriel returned, carrying another bag. Eyeing it suspiciously as I took it from him, I set it down on my lap. Inside was another bag.
Not a paper bag like this one, but a purse.
“This is beautiful, but I can’t accept it. Where do you get the money for this? How much do they pay you to be an archangel?”
“Would you believe me if I said it was a counterfeit product?”
Slowly, I shook my head. “Because that would mean you knew what it was, and would therefore be complicit in breaking the law, and therefore, not acting particularly angelically.”
“It was acquired legally and is a genuine product.” Gabriel admitted. “But it’s not a designer product. At least, not one that Italy is famous for. It was made by a local leathersmith. I can assure you that no dent was made to my teacher’s salary.”
So he was getting paid to be a teacher . . . but not an archangel?
I pulled the bag out. It was about the size of a large notebook and made of the softest gray leather. Since my pants and jacket didn’t have a pocket for my phone, I opened the bag to put it in only to discover there was something already in it.
“My mom’s sword?”
After giving the sword to Gabriel, I’d forgotten about it. The next time I saw my mom, I’d have to remember to ask her how she had it.
“I’m not advocating carrying it around campus. You have a book bag already, and if that was the case, I’d have given it to you already. However, while we’re off campus, I’d feel more comfortable if you had something to protect yourself if you needed it.” Gabriel walked over to the fireplace, staring at a vase resting on the mantle. “Gone are the days in Europe when carrying a blade in plain sight was acceptable.” Pursing his lips, he turned back to me. “It’s not acceptable to carry one hidden, either.”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t have any intention of holding my bag open and getting people to look inside.” There was a small pocket inside the purse, conveniently sized for my phone. As there wasn’t much battery left, I turned the phone off and then stuck it into the pocket.
“Are you ready to leave?” Gabriel asked. “Have you eaten enough?”
Nodding, I stood and walked over to Gabriel.
He held out his hand and I took it. One minute we were in St. Peter’s Basilica, the next we were in . . .
“Which church is this?”
Without answering, Gabriel pushed open a door, and we walked out onto a balcony.
No.
I looked up at the huge dome above us and then down at the church below us. We were a lot higher up than I thought. This was a walkway around the dome, but I still didn’t recognize it.
Gabriel leaned in close. “Not a church. Try cathedral.”
A cathedral? In London?
The only one I could think of was . . . “Shit, is this St. Paul’s Cathedral?” Under the dome, the acoustics amplified my words, but this high up and with crowds of tourists below, no one seemed to notice.
Except for Gabriel who rolled his eyes. “Yes, this is St. Paul’s Cathedral.”
“You like churches, don’t you?” I asked as he led me towards the steps leading down to the ground floor.
Gabriel glanced back over his shoulder, arching an eyebrow. “You know I’m an archangel, right?”
Playfully, I shoved his shoulder. “I’ve just realized that a lot of the time, when you transport us to different places, we tend to arrive in a church. Although, I’m surprised you didn’t in Las Vegas because there’s a lot of them there.”
“If you’re thinking of the little white chapels in various casinos, yes, there are a lot, but they’re also usually very small and very busy.” We started descending the curved stone stairway. “I’ve spent a lot of time in a lot of churches and cathedrals in Europe over the centuries, and they remain a safe place to go, especially as the older ones have a lot of areas that are usually blocked off to people.”
“But you’ve not spent much time in America?”
Gabriel shook his head. “I’ve travelled a few times to visit Michael, although he was based in Canada until somewhat recently. Otherwise, I’ve not needed to go. There’s enough to do over here.”
“How do you know where to go without appearing in front of people? Or splicing yourself in the wall of Walmart?” That was one mental image I didn’t need.
Instead of answering, Gabriel chuckled to himself.
The stairway wasn’t nearly as interesting to look at as the view from inside the dome. White walls and slippery stone steps instead of elaborate paintings and golden frosting . . . lots of slippery stone steps.
After the weeks of physical training in gym, my body was used to exercise, and I wasn’t tired, but I was already bored. “Can’t you zip us down the stairs?”
Gabriel glanced back, grinning, but shook his head. “This might be a safe location, but the less we can zip in and out of places, the less chance there is of someone seeing. It’s only five hundred and fifty steps. At least you didn’t have to climb up.”
Only . . .
When we reached the bottom, where there was no one waiting for us, Gabriel opened the door, and we walked out into the main area of the church, earning us a few raised eyebrows from the people in there.
No one stopped us or questioned us though.
We walked straight out of the main doors into brilliant sunshine. Raising my hand to shade my eyes, I squinted while looking around. I was used to cities, but at the same time, I couldn’t believe how busy it was. Or how sunny . . .?
“I thought it always rained in England?”
Reaching for my other
hand, Gabriel laughed. “Not always. I’m not sure where that stereotype came from, but it doesn’t rain as much as you think.”
He led me towards a busy road as a giant red, double decker bus drove past.
Holy crap, we really are in London.
I barely paid attention to where we were going—not that I had any idea where we were other than London. My eyes were drinking in everything, like they had in Rome. The buildings here seemed taller and more modern . . . or maybe less European? Parts of the streets we walked down were quaint and exactly as I imagined London to be, and then, out of nowhere, modern buildings that still looked British but also wouldn’t be completely out of place in a US city.
The paving slabs were large, but clean. People were everywhere, and so were the pigeons. There was something strangely familiar about the busy city, and yet this was England.
In front of us, the road opened up and there were no buildings. Just the river. “Where are we going?” I asked as we crossed the road.
“The soup kitchen the cherub, Siobhan, volunteers at is close to Charring Cross,” he told me as though I knew what that was. “It’s a nice walk along the Thames.” He led us towards a thin, flimsy looking footbridge. “Charing Cross is on this side of the river, but personally, I prefer the view from the south bank, and I thought we could have a nice walk along the Thames.”
“We could take the subway and I’d be happy,” I said, my cheeks starting to warm. Gabriel was becoming more affectionate, and here I was getting cheesy.
Really, Kennedy?
“It’s called the Underground over here,” he said, but he was smiling.
Beside the river, which seemed much browner than the Tiber, under the intermittent shade offered by some of the buildings or trees, this was just as romantic.
The walk was short, maybe only half an hour, but I still felt like I was trapped in a fairytale. Considering all the training and fighting I’d done recently, I really did feel like this was a whole other life.
“What’s your favorite city? You must have seen many.”
Gabriel glanced thoughtfully out at the water. “There are so many beautiful cities, that it’s hard to pick one.”
“What if you had to pick one to spend the rest of your life in?”
Turning back to me, Gabriel shrugged. “Eternity is a long time to live in one place, but Rome—the Vatican—that is my home.”
I wanted that, I realized. Stability. Living in one place for a significant length of time. Hellfire Academy was great, and I was getting used to living in the strange college environment, but I didn’t really feel like I belonged there yet.
Maybe it was because I would graduate.
Maybe it was because I was waiting for whatever thing would mean I had to leave, like I’d had to leave every other place I’d lived at.
Before I could get lost in that thought, we walked out from underneath a bridge and my mouth dropped open. In front of us was a giant Ferris wheel. “What’s that?”
“The London Eye,” Gabriel replied once he’d checked what I was looking at.
I stared up at the metal frame and watched the wheel slowly turning but never stopping, wishing we had time to do touristy things like ride the Ferris wheel.
Although we weren’t going on it, it didn’t stop me from pulling my phone out, turning it on, and risking the small bit of battery I had left to take some pictures and send one to Leigh-Ann.
Instead, we walked straight past it, weaving through the crowds of people who had accumulated there, waiting their turn to ride.
Giving it one last wistful glance before it was behind us, I caught Gabriel watching me. “I’ve never even been on a Ferris wheel,” I told him, feeling the need to defend myself.
“I’m more amused that you’re looking behind when there’s that in front of us.” Gabriel pointed across the river.
At first, I thought he was pointing at the river. And then I saw the clock tower behind it, just as two red buses drove over the bridge. “Is that Big Ben?”
Gabriel nodded. “That’s why I wanted to walk on this side of the river. The view from here is much more impressive.”
It was London. The giant Ferris wheel had impressed me. Hell, the buses and taxis had impressed me. But I liked seeing what Gabriel liked.
We crossed back over the river, walking straight past Big Ben, before disappearing onto some of the side streets.
Finally, we stopped in front of a building, which looked more like an old factory than a soup kitchen. There was only a small sign with the name above the door and a newer-looking notice hanging on the front of a door behind a plastic screen: Charing Cross Soup Kitchen is closed on Saturdays and Sundays.
Gabriel cocked his head, frowning. “David didn’t mention this.”
“Shall we come back tomorrow?”
Frowning, Gabriel reached into his pocket to pull out a phone.
I think I was more in shock at seeing him with a cell phone than anything else.
Giving me a smile, he walked a couple of paces away, not that it would have mattered as he was speaking to his friend in Italian.
While he talked, I moved around the side of the building to a small public seating area. Gabriel noticed and followed me to keep me in sight as I walked over to one of the benches and took a seat, staring around the area.
As my gaze swept around back to Gabriel, I realized we weren’t alone. On the other side of the small garden sat a man in a suit. There had been more men in suits around St. Paul’s Cathedral than this part of London, but it wasn’t the suit drawing my attention.
It was the fact that the man was staring at me.
When my gaze locked with his, he looked away.
Blowing out a breath, I returned my attention back to Gabriel, admiring his profile and how his light hair caught the sun. When he caught me staring, he grinned.
Soon after, he hung up and walked over to join me. “We shall try back later in the week, once you’ve finished your exams. David doesn’t know where she is otherwise. If we return to the college now, you will have missed breakfast, but it’ll be too early for lunch. Would you like to grab some dinner here?”
“Is the Pope a Catholic?” I stood up.
Shaking his head in amusement, Gabriel led us away from the soup kitchen. I had no idea where in London we were anymore, but after a short while, we arrived in front of a building that looked like it had come straight out of a movie.
The Duck and Partridge Pub was quite busy inside as we were led to a table in front of the bar. I sat, but my attention was on the walls. Everywhere seemed to be covered in pictures from the turn of the previous century, judging from the clothing. Every surface covered in brass kitchenware.
“That’s quite normal for a British pub,” Gabriel said at what I was sure was my wrinkled nose. He passed me a menu, and I took it.
Although the menu was written in English, I felt like I was looking at something more foreign considering half of the meals. There was one main dish that seemed to have a dessert in it, which made no sense to me. And then there were two types of pies with potatoes on top.
“Fish and chips is usually a safe option.” Gabriel suggested.
Fish was not my thing and eating chips with that seemed like a strange side dish. “What on earth is a banger?” I tried searching for something else on the menu.
“A sausage.”
I looked up at Gabriel and pursed my lips. “I’m not even going to ask.”
“They’re meat in a casing which used to be made from intestines, and with the way they’re cooked, they often pop open. The noise they make sounds like little bangs.”
“Do you know what you want, love?” a waitress asked, joining us.
Giving the menu one last glance, Gabriel nodded. “I’ll take the fish and chips, please.”
“Lasagna for me, please.”
After adding in our drink orders and waiting for the waitress to leave, Gabriel sat back in his chair, a small smile on his lips. �
��We came all the way to London and you order lasagna? Which you not only eat regularly in the college cafeteria but could’ve also easily had in Italy.”
The diners I’d worked in had only ever served traditional American food. Steak was the only other dish on the menu that I’d eaten, once, but that was a lot more expensive here than the lasagna.
Aside from the fact that I had no idea what half of the food on the menu was and I’d never tried most of them, I was still hungry. If I didn’t like it, I didn’t want to starve, but I also didn’t want to waste any food.
Instead of saying this, I just shrugged.
It didn’t take long for our food to arrive, and what Gabriel had called ‘chips’ were not chips at all. They were fat fries. The fish was also deep fried in batter. After trying a bit of Gabriel’s, I realized it was something I would have enjoyed.
Oh well.
At least I knew what I was getting with the lasagna.
And it was delicious.
“How are you feeling now?” Gabriel asked.
My fork with the last mouthful of lasagna hovered in front of my mouth. “Fine?”
“About your mother?” Gabriel prompted.
I finished the last bite and set my fork down. “I gave her my number, and I invited her to visit Greenwood.”
“Do you think she will?”
The sadness that swept through me gave me my answer, but I still shrugged. “Maybe? I’m just not sure it’s going to be good for her.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I haven’t been around Mom for a few months, and she seemed to be getting herself together, but then within minutes of being near me, she was talking about running away from my father again.” Using my fork, I chased a piece of garnish around the empty plate. “Bringing her to the college means spending more time with me and other nephilim. What if that’s all it takes to push her over the edge, and she runs again?”
“What if seeing you in a college environment is exactly what she needs to show her you’re safe?”
“A college which has already been attacked by the Fallen, and if Leigh-Ann’s prophecy comes true, will be attacked again—maybe by these mysterious Watchers, maybe by—” At the last minute, I clamped my mouth shut.