Chapter 30

For nearly sixteen hours,we rode straight through to the ruins of Northbourne. We stopped only for fuel, food, and a short nap under some trees in a park when the pain in my stomach and my exhaustion got to be too much. Ronan gave me a blanket from one of his saddlebags and kept watch while I slept for about an hour, wrapped up like a burrito beside him. When I woke in the middle of a nightmare, his hand was resting on my shoulder, comforting me.

Despite her very vocal disapproval at the idea of riding in my backpack, Esme nestled inside it and slept for almost the entire trip. I tried not to think about how she'd looked when Typhon's monster tore her nearly in half. Instead, I remembered how her much-larger cousin had responded to her call for help and tenderly healed her wounds.

I had no idea what Ronan thought about during our journey. My own thoughts bounced between a dozen topics, from the death magic in my belly to Sean, Valas, and everything we'd seen and done in the Underworld. I had many hours on the back of the Harley to think about all those things and make plans about some of them—most especially Valas.

From time to time I caught glimpses of Daisy keeping pace with us, but generally she ran ahead, presumably in case something big and mean lay in wait in our path. Creatures of various sizes and shapes lurked near the road, but none messed with us.

We said little during the trip. Ronan occasionally took one hand off the grip and rested his forearm on top of my hands on his stomach. Despite his teasing and innuendos, and the way my hormones did a jig in response to his very fine bod, what had developed between us was friendship or a pack bond. I thought it was his way of comforting me now that I had a lead ball of death magic chewing away at my insides. My sickness wasn't just from the way my magic clashed with the ambient power of the Broken World. I could no longer pretend the dark magic I'd gotten from Mira? wasn't damaging my body too.

Ronan was clearly protective of me now. Not so long ago, that would have pissed me off and I've have told him I'd get to Northbourne on my own. Spending time with Sean, our pack, and Malcolm had made me realize when others wanted to protect or defend me, it wasn't because they thought I was weak. I meant enough to Ronan that he'd do whatever was necessary to keep me safe. I felt the same way about Sean, Malcolm, the rest of our pack, and even Ronan when he'd been wounded by Mariela's poison blade, and I didn't think any of them were weak.

With my arms around his waist, I felt the outline of his flask inside his jacket, but he didn't drink from it a single time during our trip. Since it clearly bothered him, I didn't call him "Wings" again, though I did mutter "Ass" under my breath several times. He didn't seem to mind; in fact, I suspected he went out of his way to elicit that response. Our weird camaraderie felt comfortable, like a well-worn pair of jeans.

I hoped Lucy was able to explain her actions to her colleagues and superiors and they'd commended her instead of throwing her in the brig—or whatever Guardians used as a jail. I tried to imagine what she was doing right now. Probably finding out where something terrible and dangerous was happening, like a mass dragon migration, and heading straight there.

One decision I made not long into the trip was that Sean and I needed to own a Harley. The thought of riding a motorcycle with my legs and arms around him made me feel all kinds of things—and stirred up definite heat in some very personal places, which I fervently hoped Ronan did not notice. At one point he shook slightly like he was laughing, but it was hard to tell. It might have just been my imagination.

I dozed off and on during the last few hours, with my head resting against Ronan's back and his arm pinning mine against his stomach to hold me steady. Even through my helmet, I smelled leather and the sea.

As desperate as I was to reach the mirror-door and get us home, I wanted to hold on to this last ride through the Broken World on the back of a fallen angel's Harley, with a cat-dragon in my backpack, a golden wolf running alongside, and a ghost's reassuring magic buzzing in the cuff on my arm.

* * *

Someone was carrying me through an endless forest with my head nestled against his broad chest. His arms were strong, and his heart beat in a steady, reassuring rhythm right under my ear. He hummed under his breath.

"Sean?" I murmured.

"Rest," he said. "We're almost there."

Some part of my brain told me that wasn't Sean's voice, but I was too tired to open my eyes. With a contented sound, I went back to sleep.

* * *

The next time I woke, I was curled up in Ronan's lap in the basement of the ruins of Broken World Northbourne, with Esme in the crook of my arm and Daisy at our side.

He sat against the wall, our backpacks nearby. We were in a dark corner not visible to anyone who might unexpectedly be poking around above. My last memory was of a sunny afternoon, but it was now night.

"Whaaa?" I mumbled.

He chuckled. "For such a little thing, you produce quite a snore. I'm surprised every creature within twenty miles hasn't come to see what terrifying beast is down here making that noise."

"Ass." Bleary-eyed, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and raised my head. Pain shot through my neck. "Owwww."

He grunted. "If you think your neck feels cramped, imagine the condition of my spine."

My thoughts were surprisingly clear, so the nap had done me some good. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Not long enough, given what you've been through." His voice had lost all hint of humor. "We've only been here a half hour."

"I'm sorry you had to carry me."

He squeezed me very gently. "I didn't have to. I chose to."

"Thank you. I'm surprised I slept through us stopping and you carrying me down to the basement." My eyes narrowed. "Did you put me to sleep? Or keep me asleep?"

I heard the smile in his voice when he replied, "Why would I do something so nefarious, when I knew it would piss you off?"

"Oh, shut up," I said, but without rancor. I put my hand on my abdomen. The knot hadn't gone away or shrunk in size, but it hadn't grown. I supposed I'd have to consider that a win.

"Ready to stand up?" Ronan asked. "If not, I'm going to need to reach into my jacket and get a swig of tequila to take the edge off the pain."

Home wasn't going to come to us, so sick or not, I had to get on my feet. "Yeah, I'm ready."

I placed Esme on the floor. She stretched. "Rrrrr?" she inquired.

"I'm fine," I told her. "Just getting up."

"Want help?" Ronan asked.

I clambered off his lap with my usual amount of elegance—which is to say, none at all. "No, I got it."

Despite his complaints about pain and his spine, Ronan rose like someone pulled him up with invisible strings. "You could at least pretend that took some effort," I groused.

He didn't say anything while I struggled to stand, though his hand twitched when he thought he might have to catch me. I got to my feet, steadying myself on Daisy, and with only minimal cursing.

When I was upright and walking, I looked for the mirror-door. Our portal home was right where we'd left it. It shimmered in my Second Sight, and its magic, still tinged with my own, tingled on my skin.

Ronan joined me in front of the portal. "I'm sure you have a plan to get back."

"I do have a plan."

"Which would be…?"

"I've got part of the scroll and the stone that contains traces of the same magic. When we're ready to go through the portal, I'm going to damage the scroll. Its spellwork—what's left of it—will flare. I'm hoping that will be enough of the scroll's magic to fool the portal into thinking I've got the whole thing, and it will unlock and send us home."

He studied the portal. "It might work."

"It's going to have to work. I don't have a plan B at the moment. There are precious few ways of traveling between worlds—not that I have to tell you that." I glanced up at him. "Speaking of which, how did you get here, if angels can't come to this world?"

He tilted his head. "What makes you think angels can't come here?"

I frowned. "But Tura said—"

A burst of magic sent me stumbling back. Ronan's eyes blazed silver-blue. Power crackled on his skin, and I heard the sound of his wings, though I didn't see them. He seemed to grow several feet taller and towered over me. For the first time, I felt a little stab of fear of him.

"How do you know Tura?" he thundered.

As frequently happened, my fear turned into anger. I poked his chest with my finger. "Turn off the fireworks. I am not your enemy."

He rumbled. We stared at each other. With visible effort, he dampened his power. I rubbed my arms to ease the prickly feeling.

When he looked human again, I gave him the short version of how I'd met Tura. He listened in stony silence at my account of our conversation on a hill near my grandfather's compound and her claim that I had to deliver the message because angels couldn't go through the mirror-door. After a hesitation, I also told him about her alleged ability to see glimpses of the future, and her warning about my impending death.

"She described you as a knight with no court or kingdom," I said when he was silent. "Your name should have tipped me off, even if it took me way too damn long to recognize that you and Tura have similar magic. Ronan sounds a lot like ronin. I imagine that's how you chose that name when you fell to Earth."

"I didn't fall," he said. "I jumped."

I blinked. "You jumped? Why?"

He took his flask from his inside jacket pocket and toasted me before downing a hefty swig.

Now I was even more confused. "You fell—sorry, jumped—from Heaven for tequila?"

He took another drink and offered me the flask. "Can you think of a better reason? Whisky, perhaps?"

I accepted the flask. "Very funny." I took a drink, then handed it back. It was good tequila. Not my favorite, but very drinkable. "You're not going to tell me why you jumped, are you?"

"No." He returned the flask to his pocket. "Let's have it, then."

"Have what?"

A flash of exasperation. "The message, Alice."

I hesitated.

His brow furrowed. "Charon told me I should pay heed to the next message I received from my former brothers and sisters. In return for our passage back to the doorway, I gave him my word I would at least listen. What's the issue?"

"I have to kiss you," I said helplessly.

He burst out laughing—a real, full belly laugh. I hadn't thought he was capable of it.

I crossed my arms. "I fail to see what's funny about this."

"You should have seen your face when you said you had to kiss me," he said when he could speak. "One would think you had to kiss something truly awful."

"I do," I snapped.

Smiling, he stepped close and bent his head. "If it helps, try to remember how you felt riding on the back of my Harley." At my expression, his smile widened. "I thought so."

"I was thinking about riding one with Sean," I protested. "And it's very ungentlemanly of you to bring it up."

"Not a gentleman," he said, very seriously. "Not even close."

I didn't want to kiss him, but I had to. I'd given Tura my word. Oh, what the hell—I'd kissed worse guys, and gals too.

I grabbed the back of his neck, pulled him down to me, and pressed my lips to his.

The scent of the sea swirled around us and magic surged. A wave of sound rose inside me, filling my body and rolling from my mouth into his. It roared like a thundering waterfall, rang like bells, and tasted like honey, and it seemed to go on for hours, though I knew it had been only seconds.

When Tura gave the message to me, I hadn't understood any part of it. The language of angels was far removed from human forms of communication. This time—maybe because I'd pulled that poison from Ronan and with it had come a trace of his own magic—I heard a word repeated several times in the midst of the otherwise unintelligible sounds.

When the message ended, the sudden emptiness left me feeling hollow and nearly boneless. My knees gave out.

Ronan caught me. His eyes were dark, with rings of silver-blue. "And now you're swooning," he said, his voice rough with an emotion I couldn't identify. "That's the effect I have on most women."

I scowled and opened my mouth.

"Ass," he said. "I know." He set me on my feet.

I'd wondered about the contents of the message Tura had given me since she'd asked me to deliver it. Given what I knew about Ronan—or, rather, what I'd cobbled together from clues I'd picked up along the way—I was even more curious now.

His eyes held darkness and pain. Whatever was in the message, it hadn't been a cheerful greeting from an old friend.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"Isn't that my line?" He smiled, but without humor. "I'm fine. Thank you for bringing me the message."

"You're welcome." I stared into his storm-cloud gray eyes. "Remiel."

He stilled.

"That was the only word I heard out of the whole message," I said. "Something about the way she said it sounded…personal. Were you and Tura close?"

His face lost all expression. "My name is Ronan. Remiel ceased to exist a very long time ago."

Apparently I wasn't the only one who didn't like to talk about their past. Fair enough. I'd delivered the damn message. If Tura wanted to bend Ronan's ear again, she could do it herself.

Before I could try to get us home, I had a couple of things I needed to do. I sat on a rock as Ronan examined the portal. "Daisy, come here," I called.

My wolf approached, but stopped about ten feet away, eyeing me.

"We're going back home," I told her. "That means you need to go back inside me for the trip through the mirror-door."

She sat down and chomped the air between us, curling her lip slightly.

I frowned. "What does that mean? You have to return to my body, or you won't get through the portal. Come on, Daisy-dog. Let's go home."

She wiggled her rump and sat down again, with emphasis this time.

My heart sank. "You can't stay here. I know you enjoyed running around free and being a bad-ass, but you're part of me, and I want to go home to Sean and our pack. We belong with them. I can't stay here anyway. Even if this knot in my stomach doesn't kill me, the ambient magic of this world will."

She didn't move.

I'd worried that talking Daisy into leaping back into my body would be difficult after she'd gotten used to freedom, but I never thought she would flatly refuse to go home.

My stomach cramped hard, either from hunger or the dark magics chewing me up from the inside. I flinched. "Daisy, please," I pleaded. "I can't go without you, and I can't stay."

"It's possible she thinks you won't make it back through this portal, and that's why she's refusing to go." Ronan came over to stand next to me. "Your wolf has had an uncanny ability to guide you since you arrived here. It's worth considering that even if this end of the portal lets you pass, you may not get through the mirror on the other side and end up trapped between worlds."

I thought of the dark, shade-filled nightmare I'd traversed on the way to this world and dropped my head into my hands. "I am not going to die here," I said.

Something clicked. I raised my head. "I'm not going to die here. Tura said I would die in my backyard back home. If she's right, that means I get back."

He made that angry rumbly noise. "Tura had no business telling you that."

"Did she lie to me about that the same way she lied about angels not being able to travel here?"

He was silent for a long time. "She didn't lie," he said finally. "You said her exact words were that you would ‘soon make a journey through a door we cannot use, to a place we cannot go.'"

"Yes."

"You did go through a door angels can't use to a place they can't go. It just wasn't this one." He indicated the portal with a nod.

"Son of a bitch," I said. "She was talking about the Underworld, not the Broken World."

He nodded. "Only Fallen angels can travel to the Underworld."

"So why the hell didn't she come here and tell you the damn message herself?"

"She's forbidden to speak to me, by order of Michael." A muscle moved in his jaw. "And even if she had risked Michael's wrath, I haven't heeded any messages from my brothers and sisters in centuries. She foresaw that our journey would lead us to the Underworld, where I would make a pact with Charon to listen to a message. And she saw that you and I would grow close enough for me to accept delivery of the message."

"I guess being able to see the future comes in handy when you need to use a human as your personal Pony Express," I said, not without bitterness. "It's not the first time someone has lied to me without lying to me. Vampires are damn good at it too." I pressed my hands to my stomach. "If I can't get through the mirror-door, how the hell am I going to get back home so I can die in my backyard?"

A heavy silence.

I looked up. Ronan's expression was grave. Guilt twinged in my heart. "I'm sorry," I said, rising with difficulty. "This has nothing to do with you. You've gone above and beyond to get me here, and you risked your life to accompany us to the Underworld and join in a fight that wasn't really your fight, just because my stubborn wolf said you were supposed to. I'll figure out a way to get us home. It's not your problem." I gestured at Daisy and Esme. "We aren't your problem."

My little cat-dragon jumped up on the rock I'd been sitting on and stared up at Ronan with glittering emerald eyes.

"A very long time ago, I was called the Thunder of God," Ronan said, stroking the soft fur behind Esme's ears. Her purr grew as loud as a lion's. "I was a Watcher, an archangel who walked among humans. I commanded a legion of warriors when war demanded it. In times of peace, I was an archangel of hope who guided the souls of the faithful."

I thought of Charon, who guided souls in the Underworld, and wondered if that had made them colleagues of a sort. "So, how do you know Tura?"

"We shared a similar curse, though she never thought of it as such." His gaze seemed to go through me, to a place in the distant past. "Tura served me faithfully. She never lost her belief in me, not even after…all this time."

"You have the gift of prophecy?"

"Not since I jumped. Not if I can help it." His voice and expression hardened. "What use is a curse like foresight if the future can't be changed?"

I wondered if his fall—or jump—and the events that led to him being on Michael's shit list and his persona non grata status among even the Fallen were precipitated by an attempt to change the future.

"I can't pretend to know what it's like to be in your shoes, but I do know something about having a gift that's more of a curse." I raised my hand and spooled magic. "My own grandfather held me prisoner and tortured me for twenty years because he needed to control me and my power. Since I escaped, I've spent the last five trying to avoid being recaptured, bought, sold, and owned for it."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not. My magic heals people now. I can protect the people I care about. And wolves, cat-dragons, Guardians, and fallen archangels too." I mustered a smile. "It's a curse, and it's a gift. Life is complicated like that."

He squeezed my hand. "I see what Tura saw: your death. I tried not to, but sometimes things slip through, especially when I feel close to someone. Which is a big reason why I avoid doing that."

I swallowed hard. "Okay."

He blinked. "Okay?" I guess despite his gift of foresight, he didn't see that response coming.

"It's okay that you saw it too. That still doesn't mean it's going to happen. And if I can't get back home, it obviously won't."

To my surprise, he spun away and sent a silver-blue fireball sizzling across the lower level of Northbourne. The blast hit the far wall. Broken rocks rained down from the hole the fireball made. The entire building shook.

"Well, it definitely won't happen if you bring this place down on our heads," I said dryly when the ruins stopped trembling. "What brought that on?"

He kept his back to me. "I can take you home." His voice was toneless.

"What?" I walked around him so I could see his face. His expression was like granite. "You can? Why the hell didn't you tell me that? Why did you let me think the mirror-door was my only way home?"

No response, but the flash of anger and guilt in his eyes told me the answer.

"Because you think if you take me home, I'll die in my backyard, and it will be your fault." I glared at him. "That is not your choice to make."

"I know."

I blew out a breath. "Tura told me there's a slim chance I might make a different path than the one she'd seen. Do you see that possibility too?"

He shook his head. "No. I don't know why she would have told you that. Giving someone false hope is cruel. I never knew Tura to be cruel."

"No, giving someone hope isn't cruel—it gives me something to fight for." I poked him in the chest again. "All I need is a chance. My life is proof of that. I'm going to take that slim chance and do something with it. And even if it doesn't work out in my favor, I'll have gone down fighting, having done everything I could."

"You are fierce, like the heart of a star," he said, surprising me by smiling. "If only you weren't human, and taken."

I smiled back. "I thought you weren't a gentleman."

"I'm not." He tucked a stray wisp of hair behind my ear. "But I'm not a bastard."

"You are certainly many things, but you aren't a bastard." I touched his hand. "Will you get us home?"

He took a deep breath. "Home to your world, to your house in the country?"

"Home to my world, and to right where this mirror comes out in that version of Northbourne. I want them to think I'm coming back through the mirror with the scroll."

"You'll need backup." His expression darkened. "They won't be happy when they find out you don't have it."

"I know, but I'll be fine." I hoped. "It would be great if you could just drop me off, so they have no idea I had help getting back."

He smiled—a truly predatory smile, much like the one I used from time to time. His was even better than mine. "I can be unseen if I choose to be," he reminded me.

"These are vampires. They've got more finely tuned senses than humans."

"Alice," he said patiently, "I'm an archangel. If I don't want someone to know I'm there, they won't. I won't interfere…unless things get out of hand."

"All right." I turned to Daisy. "Is this satisfactory, Your Highness? We're getting an archangel escort home. Doesn't get any safer than that."

She growled agreeably.

"Okay then." I took a deep breath. "Come on home, then, Daisy-dog."

She took a couple of steps and launched herself at me, turning to golden magic in mid-leap.

We'd done this a half-dozen times, but never in the Broken World. Back home, she'd simply returned to my body in a surge of shifter magic and settled into my bones with the pleasant sensation of a puzzle piece finding its home.

This time, the experience was anything but pleasant.

When she hit my chest, the impact was only slightly less powerful than if she'd been completely solid. The only reason I didn't fly backward into the rocks was Ronan was standing behind me and caught me.

And when she passed through my flesh and returned to my body—oh holy hell, did it hurt.

My hoarse screams echoed in the ruins. Ronan held me as I doubled over. If I'd thought it hurt when Daisy had jumped out of me when we arrived, that was nothing compared to the agony of her return.

Finally, it was over.

Daisy? I asked tentatively, clutching my aching chest.

Sulking, her tail down and ears back, she retreated into the shadows in my head. Maybe she was upset because her return caused me so much pain, or maybe because she'd enjoyed her freedom and now felt confined. I didn't know the reason for her silence, and she clearly didn't want to talk to me.

Her golden magic gave my skin a light glow as it settled into my bones. The glow slowly faded. I rubbed my chest and straightened with a grimace.

"I'm sorry," Ronan said, releasing me.

"For what?" I wiped my nose on my dirty sleeve.

He helped me sit on the rock next to Esme. "I'm sorry you had to go through so much pain."

"It's not usually that bad, but this place…" I waved my hand. "It's messed with our magic and our bodies. Nothing works right."

"Then I should get you all home." He regarded Esme. "Do you need to ride along in Alice's backpack? Or can you travel with me?"

She put her ears back and made an indignant sound.

"I take that as a yes that she doesn't need to ride with you." He brought me my backpack and helped me put it on, fastening the straps across my chest and stomach. He put on his own pack and pulled me to my feet. "You ready?"

"Will this suck as much as when Tis and her sisters sent us away from Edis?" I asked.

"That was rough travel because of how quickly we had to be moved. Had there been less urgency, it wouldn't have been so hard on you. And just so you know, Tis and the others made it harder on Mariela than on you."

"I wondered why it took her so long to recover. See—I knew Tis was secretly cool."

Ronan snorted. "Lucky for you, she is."

"Lucky for you too, as it turned out." I picked Esme up. She jumped from my hands onto Ronan's shoulder. "I want to get back as soon as I can, but we can take enough time to make this a smooth ride. I have to deal with a vampire I'm pretty pissed at when we get where we're going, and I'd rather not make my entrance looking and feeling like shit."

"Well, I can't do much about how you look."

"Ass."

He wrapped his arms around me. I scowled. "Is this necessary?"

His wings erupted in a blaze of silver-blue magic that blinded me. His mouth brushed my ear. "You said you wanted a smooth ride," he murmured.

Before I could retort, the ground fell away from our feet, and we were gone.