Chapter 19

NINETEEN

Willow

Every time I turn around, I expect to see Hannah. I woke with her voice in my head more than once last night. All those pretty words, the smooth tone…it was like she was right there. Next to me. But every time, Gabriel was there. His warmth chased her away.

My exhaustion and fear leave me jumpy. The train platform is too crowded. Too loud.

Gabriel carries our suitcase in one hand but keeps the other arm around my waist. Probably smart, as I've thought about running away more than once since we left Sinclair and Zoe's apartment well before sunrise.

I can see Kunchin ahead of us. The yeti is almost seven feet tall and very hard to miss with his snow white fur. Though supposedly, his perception filter keeps humans from seeing his true nature. Sin and Zoe are driving across the country in one of Sin's many cars. He refused to risk Zoe coming face-to-face with another member of the Fae ever again.

They'll stay close. If any of AURA's people come for me, either my compliment of protectors will stop them, or Gabriel will do his amazing travel thing and bring me back to Sinclair's penthouse immediately.

Somewhere behind us, Maddox and Killian keep an eye out for anyone suspicious.

A strange sensation settles over me. My skin tingles lightly. "What's happening?" I hiss under my breath.

"Just a spell," Killian says over the small Bluetooth earbud. "Anyone using Fae glamor is about to have a very bad hair day."

I almost laugh. Sinclair's brother-in-law has a great sense of humor. Then again, I think a lot of jokes sound better when delivered in a British accent. Gabriel wasn't amused at my observation, though. His shoulders have been hiked up close to his ears all morning.

I don't know why he's jealous. We can't have a future together—he's an angel and I'm…cursed—but I care for him. I think he feels the same. He keeps calling me deliciae . Darling. But he refuses to kiss me again. In this moment, that's all I want. One kiss to make me feel alive again. To make me feel like…me.

The Blade's call is getting stronger. Yesterday's soft song, the gentle tug on my soul, has turned into a vise, getting tighter and tighter. It fills my ears, filtering through the sounds of conversation, of traffic on the freeway, of travel. If we don't get moving soon, I'm afraid what will happen next.

My whisper floats close by. Not close enough to touch, but close enough both Gabriel and I can see her. Her emotions are so clear over our fragile bond. Fear. Resignation. A hint of excitement. She wants this, even though she's still terrified.

"Willow?" Mad says over the call. "There's something beyond your right shoulder. Ahead of you. What is it?"

"That's my whisper. You can see her?" I glance up at Gabriel. He doesn't seem surprised.

"Only a shimmer of light," he says. "Nothing more."

"Fuck me. You can see ghosts?" Killian asks. "Why are you so bloody lucky?"

"Because he is part angel," Gabriel says. "At least that is my assumption. And she does not like being referred to as a ghost. I made that mistake once. I will not make it again."

My whisper gives him a nod and moves a little closer to us.

"Sinclair can't see her," Mad says.

Gabriel scans the crowd for threats as we approach the sleeping car. "Sinclair is part demon. That cancels out his angelic side."

"It does not work that way," Sin mutters. "I used to be welcome in the celestial realm. I still would be if not for Seraphiel."

His tone holds a lifetime of pain. There's so much about this world I don't know. Did another angel have anything to do with what happened to Zoe?

A uniformed attendant scans our tickets and points down a narrow hallway. "Your room is at the very end of the car. Instructions for the door lock are posted on the wall. Thank you for riding the United Express."

Despite the tension in Gabriel's body, his eyes hold a hint of excitement too. Even wonder as he takes in the compartment Sinclair booked for us and the instructions for turning the seats into a bed.

"Humans are very inventive," he says, running his hand over the second, smaller bed currently folded up against the wall.

"You're just learning that now? I thought you were responsible for watching over all of creation?" I settle onto one of the bench seats and stare out the window. The platform is almost empty now, only a few late travelers rushing to board.

His amber eyes darken. "I was—no, I am—not a very good angel." My eyes start to burn.

Oh, my God. I'm not sad. He is. Yet, I'm the one about to cry. Is this another of his talents? He said he could sense my emotions, but can he broadcast his own?

"I'm sure that's not true." I reach for his hand, but he grabs our suitcase and shoves it into the closet. "Talk to me, Gabriel."

With a heavy sigh, he sits across from me, his elbows on his knees. The train's whistle sounds, and with a lurch, we're moving. In seconds, the constant song in my ears changes pitch. It's softer now. More soothing. Like the Blade knows I'm coming.

Killian pipes up in my ear. "We are two rooms away. Kunchin is in the next car."

"We require…privacy," Gabriel says. "Call if you see anything suspicious." He tosses his earbud onto the window sill, and waits for me to do the same. As soon as we're completely alone, he pulls the privacy shade over the glass. The world outside takes on a gray tint, but I can still see the city in the distance.

His voice drops to a whisper. "Willow, it is time for you to see my wings."

Gabriel

She is not ready. Or perhaps I am merely projecting my own insecurities onto her. Removing my leather jacket, I start to pace the small suite, but quickly give up when I almost run into the door on my second step.

Fuck. I wish the window opened. The walls are oppressively close.

"You are trapped in a Hell of your own making."

The Devil's words echo in my head. Is he right?

Even if he is, I will never admit it. Lucifer would mock me for all eternity.

I am at the door before I realize I have even moved. Only her sharp inhale stops me from escaping into the hall. "Fuck."

"Gabriel? You're scaring me." Willow presses herself to my back, her arms winding around my waist. "You said your wings were damaged. If you don't want me to see them, I understand."

"You need to know." I can barely force the words over the lump in my throat. "I should have called Azrael. Or Sariel. Even Lucifer. You would be safer with them."

"I don't want another angel. I trust you ."

I spin around so quickly, Willow stumbles, off balance. My back starts to burn. Yanking the Henley over my head, I let out a groan.

Feathers tumble to the faded carpet. My wings tremble, only half extended in the cramped room.

Willow gasps. Tears shimmer in her eyes. Fuck me. This was a mistake. She will never look at me the same way again. If I could turn away, I would. But then she would see even more, and I cannot let that happen.

Pain racks my body as I struggle to fold my wings against my back. My legs shake. I brace my hand on the wall, gritting my teeth.

Willow takes a step forward. Then another. Her fingers settle on my shoulders. "Turn around," she says softly.

"Do not ask that of me."

"Too late." Her soft smile lights up the room. Opening my senses, I let her emotions wash over me. Worry. Sorrow. Need. Acceptance. "Please, Gabriel. Stop hiding from me."

I do not want to deny her anything. Not even this. Taking a deep breath, I brace myself. If the full extent of the devastation drives her away, will I survive it?

The tips of my wings brush the walls of the train car. I rest my forehead against the door. My heart pounds hard enough, I feel it in my temples.

"Can I touch you? Or will that be too painful?"

She's close enough, her body heat warms my mangled wings. "It would hurt more if you did not, I think."

Her fingers trail over the burnt feathers. Her acceptance tames the worst of the agony. One breath. Then another. Each easier than the last. She spends long moments tracing the base of my wings along my back. Blisters start to heal under her gentle strokes.

"How did it happen?" With her hands on my waist, she urges me to turn and face her. Her eyes hold no judgement. Only understanding.

I lead her back to the couches, force my wings away, and tug my shirt over my head like a shield. "Each of the archangels has a different role. Azrael helps souls cross over after death. Michael is a defender. Raphael is a healer. I am the great communicator. Or…I was supposed to be."

Staring out the window, I let my eyes unfocus. Tall trees blur into a sea of green. Much like history has blurred in my memories. Years, decades, even centuries blended together, and I cared so little about any of them.

"I performed my tasks—when required. Handing the stone tablets to Moses? The look on his face is one I will never forget. I believe his exact words were—translation issues aside—‘What in God's name am I supposed to do with these? They are huge.'"

Willow's laughter is a balm to my soul. I even find myself chuckling along with her.

"What did you say to him?" she asks.

"Something along the lines of, ‘Start a library,' I believe." Her brows shoot up. It feels so good to smile back at her. To share this pleasant memory. "He did not consider that an appropriate response. But then the burning bush threatened to start a wildfire, and I had to divert a river to put it out. Not my finest hour. Lucifer is much better with flames than I am."

Willow is silent for a moment, then shakes her head. "You're talking about the Devil like he's…a friend."

"He was. Once. A brother, even. He was not always Hell's keeper. Before that, he was a guardian." I lean back against the well-worn cushions and return my gaze to the scenery. "Zoe told you some of what happened to her, yes?"

"That she was kidnapped by a demon, tortured, and branded. Yes." Willow shudders. "Her friend Dion too."

Guilt twists in my gut. The panther shifter did not leave her apartment for almost a week after her ordeal, and unlike Zoe, she was mostly alone. Kunchin checked on her, but the Bureau was in chaos for a time, and he had…duties.

"There is so much more you need to know." I rest my elbows on my knees, unable to look at her as I confess my sins. How I did not stand up to Seraphiel when he sent Zoe's soul—in another body with another name—to the earthen realm the first time, knowing if she was successful in trapping Thorn's consciousness in Hell, she would spend eternity suffering the Underworld's endless torment alongside him.

How I failed to protest Sinclair's punishment for loving her. "Sin was forced to do many terrible things while he was Thorn's prisoner. But he had no choice. Genevieve—Zoe—gave him the strength to fight back. It was he who carried the incubus and his fae lover to Hell, knowing he would be trapped there with them. Seraphiel could have freed him. Instead, he imprisoned Zoe in her own body, forbidding even the simple act of breathing. She remembers those centuries. Every moment longer than the last. And I said nothing."

"Why not?" Willow touches my arm, but I pull away.

"The Seraphim are revered. They came before all of us, and do not let us forget our place. Seraphiel, in particular, is a complete dick. But that is no excuse. I could have restored Sinclair's memories at any time. If he had recognized Zoe from the start, perhaps Thorn never would have taken her. If I had bothered to visit my brother—my friend— in the Underworld even once, Lucifer might have told me of the breach that allowed Thorn and Regina to escape."

My tears fall silently, dripping down my chin, hitting my hands clasped between my knees, soaking into the carpet at my feet.

"I failed them. All of them. Zoe will live with those terrible memories for the rest of her life. She is a celestial. I damned her to centuries of nightmares. Dion barely survived. Thorn killed hundreds. If losing my wings is to be penance for my crimes, it is not even close to what I deserve."

My chest tightens, and a lump swells in my throat. For a moment, I don't understand. Until the first sob escapes my lips. Shame tears me apart, rending my soul into shreds.

Willow wraps her arms around me, comfort I do not deserve, and I bury my face in her hair.

"Shhh. I've got you, Gabriel."

For the first time in all of my existence, I break, not caring if I am ever able to put myself back together again.