Chapter 13

THIRTEEN

Gabriel

If I were not so concerned with frightening Willow even more, I would punch Sinclair in the face.

How dare the demon stop me from revealing his angelic parentage and then do it himself less than two minutes later.

Sin's feet touch the ground. Without ceremony, he hides his wings, shrugs back into his robe, and belts it tightly.

Willow's full lips form an o. She darts a glance toward the front door. "This…isn't real. I'm still stuck in the void. Or…dead. Or…"

I take a step closer. She calmed when she was in my arms, and I suspect she is dangerously close to hyperventilating. "If you were still in the void, I would not be able to sense your emotions, and I feel them all. You are scared. Confused. In pain. We cannot fix the first two, but Sinclair can ease your physical discomfort without affecting your mind."

"Don't incubi feed off of sex? " she asks.

Sin takes Zoe's hand. "I do. If I were desperate, I could also feed off fear, though I would rather drink battery acid. But Zoe is my mate. I do not take from anyone but her, nor will I for the rest of our very long lives. I swear to you, I would not influence you in any way."

Willow turns to me. "Are you going to ‘wing-out' too?"

"Wing…out? No. My wings were recently damaged. No one needs to see the state they are currently in. Also, I promised I would not display my full angelic power inside this penthouse." I meet her light blue eyes. "I could inadvertently…break things."

"Like eardrums," Zoe mutters. "Windows. Furniture."

I offer Willow my hand. Disappointment weighs heavily on me when she does not take it. " Deliciae , if we wanted to harm you, we could have done so while you were unconscious. We did not. We removed that cursed device causing you so much pain, and Sinclair called in a healer to treat the wound." I gesture to her shoulder. "See for yourself."

She doesn't move. I take several steps toward the hall—away from the front door—and urge Sin and Zoe to do the same. If she runs, I will follow her. But her fear of being trapped here is almost as strong as her fear of those two assholes in the cathedral.

Slowly, she creeps along the edges of the living space, her gaze darting from me to the door and back again. Only when she is certain she is close enough to escape does she look down at the reddened skin below her collarbone.

"There's no scar," she whispers. "How?"

"Healing magic has been around for centuries," Sin says. "Your wound was not serious. The technology and magic inside the device, however, were. Why would someone want to lock your consciousness away in such a fashion?"

The edge to his voice is too much for her to bear. I sense the exact moment she decides to run. The front door slams shut, and though I could stop her easily—if I broke my promise to Zoe—the elevator ride to the ground floor will take her at least sixty seconds. If not more. I will have time.

"You could have been gentler with her," I say.

Sinclair catches my arm before I can slip into the hall. "Be careful, Gabriel. If there is a fae involved, and she finds out what—who—you are…"

"I know. But as I am currently unable to ‘wing-out,' there should be no danger of that. I did think you would know better than to casually reveal exactly who I am." I shake off his hold, step into the hall, and let my power carry me to the lobby.

The dial over the elevator slowly counts down from the thirteenth floor. I lean against the security desk, one ankle crossed over the other. The door slides open with a quiet ding . Willow darts out, then skids on the polished marble floor as she sees me. What little color she has in her cheeks drains in a heartbeat.

"Please. You have to let me go. They'll find me." Tears shimmer in her eyes. "Once they have what they want, they'll make me do…terrible things. I can't imagine what they'll do to anyone who tries to get in their way."

"No one will force you to do anything while I am around." I offer her my hand once more. "I can protect you. The woman—Hannah—does not have the same power over me that she does over…others. And while I cannot fly at the moment, I have certain abilities that make me a formidable enemy. And a strong protector."

"Your friends don't trust me."

"They are not my—fuck. I suppose they are." I have never had…friends before. It is an odd realization. One I am surprisingly grateful for. "They work for the Bureau of the Occult and the Other. It is their job to be…suspicious."

"The Bureau of the Occult and…oh God. B.O.O.? Their name is B.O.O.? Is everything in the Other community a joke?" She hugs herself tightly and shivers.

"The Other community often pokes fun at itself. It is part of their… charm. Or so they say. I have never found it all that charming." With a shrug, I push off the desk. "You are only learning of the Bureau now?"

Her cheeks tinge the slightest shade of pink. "I thought I was human until three weeks ago." A wave of goosebumps washes over her bare arms.

Fuck.

"Please, Willow. Come back to the hotel with me. I have your shoes, and I can give you one of my sweaters. Though I'm afraid it will be quite large on you, it will keep you warm."

She stares at me, her emotions so very clear. Disbelief. Offense. A hint of fear. "You seriously expect me to go to a hotel with you ? I may not know anything about the Other community, but I'm not a complete idiot."

"You were in my hotel room an hour ago. Did I harm you in any way?" I don't understand her resistance. I kept her safe. Cared for her. Tried to bring her back from the void. And she is afraid of me now?

A single tear tumbles over her lashes. "My body was in your hotel room. I was trapped in the void." Her strangled sob shatters my control. I tried to keep my distance. To give her time to trust me. But I cannot abide her suffering.

In two steps, I have her in my arms. She struggles for a moment, then sinks against me. "I will not let anyone harm you. I swear on my wings."

For several tense moments, she tries to hold back her tears. "Y-you…make me feel safe. But so did they. How can I trust anything after what they did to me?"

I nudge her chin up so I can see her eyes. So much pain. But also…power. Magic gathers within her, swirling like a tornado.

"Let me get you somewhere safe. Then start from the beginning."

The air stirs gently. Willow's ghostly twin hovers just over her shoulder.

I turn us so she can see the apparition. "Perhaps you can also explain who she is."

Willow sucks in a sharp breath. "You can see my whisper?"

"Of course. She practically accosted me outside the hotel and led me to the alley. Admittedly, I had offended her by calling her a ghost."

Tears brim in Willow's eyes. Her whisper glares at me until I incline my head. "I will not make that mistake again. You have my word."

The whisper's expression softens. She turns, her spectral fingers brushing Willow's cheek, then reaching up to mine. Something passes between the two of them. I can sense the connection they share, but not what the whisper is feeling.

Willow meets my gaze, her tears still threatening to fall. "She trusts you. I don't know why, but she does."

"Do you?" I hold my breath—when did I start breathing all the time?—as I wait for her answer.

"I…I think…yes. As much as I can trust anyone—or anything—right now. I do."

"Then close your eyes. This may be shocking. Even a bit painful. But I will protect you as best I can." I cup the back of her head with one hand, the other fused to her hip. "Hold on tight."

Bending space and time around us, I focus on our destination. The trip—my third or fourth of the night—drains much of my remaining strength.

Easing Willow down onto the bed, I stagger back until I find the desk chair, then collapse into it.

"Gabriel?" She lays her hand on my knee, the touch settling me in a way I am not prepared for. "Are you okay?"

"Even angels have limits, love. I may have just found mine."

Willow

Holy-celestial-shit. He really is an angel.

Despite studying mythology and the occult for years, I know so little of this other world. If I believe Sinclair, demons are real too. And though my own power doesn't match anything my studies have told me about witches, I can't deny that I am other.

Gabriel slumps back in the plain hotel desk chair. He's pale, and tiny lines crinkle at the corners of his lids.

For a moment, I wonder if he's asleep. Or maybe he passed out. But then he opens his eyes, and the molten heat shocks me enough I jerk back.

"Did I hurt you?" he asks.

I'm not prepared for the question. Or for how intensely he's staring at me. "Uh…no?"

"The power an angel can manifest—well, as I said earlier, we have been known to break things. Unintentionally." His smile lights up the entire room. Or maybe I'm delirious. "I have never carried anyone with me before. I feared it would be…uncomfortable for you."

"I felt like I was on a roller coaster. But…sideways instead of down." I scan the room, looking for my whisper, but she either didn't follow us or she's choosing to stay hidden.

Gabriel pushes to his feet with a groan and staggers over to his duffel bag sitting on the dresser. After a minute, he comes away with a black t-shirt and a maroon sweater. "These should keep you warm enough."

They're expensive. Soft. And they smell like him.

I'm not sure I can stand. My legs feel like wet noodles. But he hasn't turned around. Does he expect me to strip down to my bra right in front of him?

"Um, a little privacy?"

"For…?"

Oh, my God. He's genuinely confused. "I'm going to take my shirt off. What's left of it, anyway."

"I watched the earthen realm's creation. I have seen many naked human bodies."

"Not mine! Turn around. Please." With a huff, I cross my arms over my half-exposed chest and wait, challenging him to refuse. Probably not the smartest thing to do, but I'm so very done with this day, I'm not backing down now.

"I will get you a glass of water," he says, then heads into the bathroom. "Tell me when you are…clothed."

Every muscle aches. Stripping out of my bloody tank top, I peer down at my bra. Great. It's ruined too.

The clothes are big enough to fit two of me, and I have to roll the sweater's sleeves three times. But the thick weave is so comforting, I don't care.

"Okay. You can come back now." The room only spins a little as I towards the headboard. I could sleep for a week. Maybe a month if I thought I'd be safe. But when the sun comes up, I have to run. I just hope Gabriel will let me go.