Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

Willow

Gabriel tucks the phone back into his pocket. "I need to know about your whisper. Right now."

I shake my head. "No. I can't. You're in enough danger as it is."

Shoulders straight, he arches a single brow. "I am an archangel. One of the ancients. And immortal. I do not care about danger. I care about you."

Oh .

"I could run…"

The other brow lifts. "And I would follow. I can find you anywhere, Willow."

I snort. "Because that's not creepy. Pro tip? Stalking isn't sexy."

"Who said anything about stalking? Archangels can locate any soul they choose." He steps closer and cups my cheek. "I know you, deliciae . I have tasted you and, for the first time in my very long existence, I wish I were not…what I am. I wish I could give you all of me."

Releasing a heavy sigh, I sink down onto the edge of the bed. "I don't know a lot about her—my whisper. She's a part of me. Sort of. But she has her own free will. I can't control her. When she shows up, when she doesn't."

How much do I tell him? His friends work for the paranormal equivalent of the FBI. If they search for "whisper" and "blade," will they find out who I am? What I can do?

Gabriel sits close enough our thighs touch. His warmth seeps into me. "Where does she come from?"

"There's a vault under St. Mary's. It's warded—or so Hannah said—and it's been sealed off since the fire in 1906. I took a couple of students on a tour of the cathedral a month ago, and when the priest took us into the basement, I passed out. That night, I saw my whisper for the first time."

"Was she trapped there?" He sweeps his gaze around the room, but we're alone. I haven't seen my whisper since we left Sinclair and Zoe's building, and I'm starting to worry about her.

"I don't know." The realization brings tears to my eyes. She's been my semi-constant companion for a month now. And yet, she's still a complete mystery to me. "I think…maybe she was ‘born' when I got close enough to the grimoire inside the vault for it to sense me."

His eyes narrow, turning molten with flecks of gold churning in the amber depths. "A book sensed you? That is not how books work. I may not understand humanity, but I am well-versed in books. Who do you think carved the stones to give to Moses?"

"Y-you…the…T-ten Command-m-ments?" I sputter. "Holy shit."

"Holy, yes. Shit, no. Though I suppose many people have called them that over the centuries." Gabriel stares up at the ceiling for a long moment. "The magic contained in the grimoire…is that what those two assholes want?"

I chew on my lower lip—a nervous habit I thought I'd broken back in college. If he learns the rest, will he try to take the Blade from me? Or worse? Stop me from destroying it?

"Willow." The gentle word is almost too much. But when he turns, cups my cheeks in his hands, and brushes a kiss to my lips, I break.

"The magic isn't in the grimoire anymore. It's in me. There's an ancient blade out there somewhere that only I can wield. It…I don't even know what all it can do, but I think it can transfer power from one person to another. They told me they wanted to use it to cure disease. To siphon off a little of a shifter's immunity, for example, and transfer it to a human with cancer. But that was all a lie. They want a weapon, and they think…if they have me and the Blade…they'll be unstoppable."

I let the hot water wash over my body. After my admission, I spent a full ten minutes sobbing in Gabriel's arms. When I'd run out of tears, he asked for my trust, and dammit. I agreed.

"Sinclair and Zoe will meet us at the Bureau. If anyone can find out more about the people after you, it will be them. I will call…a friend of theirs…and get you fresh clothing. I suspect if you show up in my sweater, there will be…questions."

Questions. I have so many questions, I could ask them one after another for a year and still not get through them all.

What's going to happen after they start looking into AURA? How can I trust no one at the Bureau is secretly working for AURA? Where has my whisper been for the past six hours? How much longer can I stay in this city before Hannah and Isaac find me?

Why haven't they come after me already? What are they waiting for? Do they know about Gabriel? Or about the incubus demon and his Seraphim mate? God, I don't even know what a Seraphim is. Only that it sounds really damn celestial.

If I keep spiraling like this, I'll shut down. So I close my eyes and focus on the water as it hits my skin. Once my heart rate returns to something close to normal, I use Gabriel's shampoo to wash my hair. The idea that I'll smell like him for the rest of the day brings me a small measure of comfort.

Why couldn't I have met him months ago?

Because he wasn't in this realm. Because you never would have believed angels were real. Because meeting a literal demon would probably have sent you over the edge completely.

When I'm done, I wrap myself in a fluffy towel and peek out a crack in the bathroom door. "Gabriel?"

He stares at me, at my bare legs and wet hair, and one of the tendons in his neck strains. "I should…shower as well. Dion brought you several changes of clothes."

"Oh. Okay." He's upset. Tense. Even…angry. I slip out of the bathroom, staying as far from him as I can until he shuts the door between us. Did something happen while I was showering? Or…is it…me?

"It better not be me," I mutter, dumping the shopping bags out onto the bed. Brand new leather boots, a stylish pair of jeans, black yoga pants, a soft, teal sweater with flared sleeves, a purple sweatshirt, several tank tops, thick socks, and three matching sets of lace bras and panties. All in my size. Wow. I guess angels—or at least this angel—isn't hurting for money.

Then again, last night I woke up in a ritzy penthouse where the parking fees alone are probably more than my salary. Is everyone in the world of the Other rich?

Going to the Bureau scares the shit out of me. But Gabriel swore no one would hold me against my will or force me to do anything I didn't want to do. Angels don't lie. At least…I hope they don't.

Gabriel

In the hotel's narrow shower, I brace an arm against the wall and wrap my free hand around my cock. Seeing Willow in nothing but a towel stoked the near constant state of arousal I have been battling since our kiss. One taste, and I will never be the same again.

Giving my shaft one, firm stroke, I groan. In all my millennia of existence, no human has ever affected me like this. I have been with half a dozen women—and two men—but never felt more than a passing affection for any of them.

I close my eyes, picturing the way the towel clung to her curves. The part of her lips. The need in her beautiful eyes when she touched me. My hips start to move of their own accord. My hand is a poor substitute, but if I do not slake this need, I fear it will destroy me.

She needs me focused. If those bastards come for her, I cannot be distracted.

"Willow." I let her name spill from my lips as I thrust harder. Faster. My balls tighten. Pressure builds. My breath saws in and out of my chest, ragged. I can almost taste her. The water running down my back should be soothing, but I imagine her short nails scraping my skin instead. She wanted me. And I hurt her.

With one final stroke, I let go. The scent of my release mixes with the steam and the hint of Willow remaining in the room.

This is as close as I can ever get to fucking her. To loving her. But in my heart, she is already forever mine.

The Bureau of the Occult and the Other hides in plain sight. I kept Willow tucked against my side for the twenty-minute ride across town. I could have carried us there instantly, but the strain of exhaustion still weighs on me. Two hours of sleep is not enough, and we do not know what threats we will face today.

"This is it?" Willow peers up at the building. "I thought it would be…more in line with their name."

"Laughable?"

"Official. Like with warning signs. Or at least a security guard." She presses closer to me. "Anyone could walk right in."

"They'd have to be able to see the place first," a rough voice says.

Willow yelps, then darts behind me as Kunchin ambles over from his SUV, a travel mug in one massive hand and a box of doughnuts in the other.

"Gabriel…"

I open my senses. Her fear washes over me. Fuck. She is not prepared for this. Any of it.

"Willow, this is Kunchin," I say. "The yeti works here. He is…a friend."

"A yeti?" She slaps her hand over her mouth. Her cheeks flush bright red. "Oh, God. I'm sorry. I'm just…I've never…"

Kunchin frowns. "You're clearly other as my perception filter doesn't work on you. But you've never seen one of us before? Or a gorilla shifter? They're everywhere down by the Embarcadero. Though I'm much more elegant." He brushes the hand with his coffee mug down his blue silk tie. "And taller."

"Her powers only manifested a few weeks ago." This was a mistake. I should have insisted we meet at Sinclair's penthouse. If Willow is frightened by the yeti, I do not want to know what she will think of the vampires. Or the ghouls.

"Oh. Well, the entire building is warded," Kunchin explains. "Humans see an empty lot, and if they get too close, they'll feel an irresistible urge to suddenly be anywhere else." He takes a long sip from his mug. "Lieutenant Eve's morning briefing is in half an hour, and I need to check my email first. Good to see you again, Gabriel. Willow." With a nod, he strides for the double doors.

"A yeti. In a suit." Willow's voice cracks. She turns to me, resting her forehead against my shoulder. "And I insulted him."

"This was never your world, deliciae ." I rub her back in long, slow strokes. "But when we go inside, I suggest you avoid staring at the ghouls. They have been known to hold grudges for centuries."

"Or…you could just forget everything I told you," she says softly. "I know you're immortal. But that doesn't mean you can't be killed. Right? AURA will never stop hunting me. I have to find the Blade before they do and destroy it."

"And you expect me to let you do that alone?" The words are too loud and carry so much power, a car alarm goes off at the edge of the parking lot. Willow shies away from me, cringing, with her hands over her ears.

"Gabriel, get the fuck inside." Sinclair holds the front door open while Zoe hurries over to Willow and takes her arm. "The Lieutenant is already angry that I will not tell her what this case is about. If you insist on bringing down the building, you will learn just how quickly an eagle shifter can claw your eyes out."