“It’s been a long time since you two came topside.” Saul staggered out of reach while Trates helped Arestes to the ground. “How are you feeling? A little dizzy? Headache? Stomachache?”
Arestes gurgled. Trates hissed but had removed his shirt to cover his brother’s wound. They were trapped and they knew it. If one twin died, the other did too. Trates wouldn’t risk that loss.
“You’ve signed your death warrant.” Trates’s wings ruffled. “We are Master’s favorites. He will come for you.”
Saul shrugged off the threat. “He’ll have to take a number.”
With that, Saul sliced a rift straight into Nathaniel’s bedroom. He had to know if his brother was armed. No. He spotted the shears in the same place they had been. Drawn to them, he had to touch them, had to try one last time. He picked them up. “Work, damn you.” He squeezed them, but no energy pulsed, no soft glow emanated from them. “Work.
Work
.” His pleas went unanswered.
Furious, he flung them across the room. They clattered on impact. The empty sound mocked him. He forced himself to walk to them, pick them up again, and arrange them exactly as they had been. It wouldn’t do for Nathaniel to become suspicious. He must be tending his mortal. Once he had her calmed, he would return for his shears. Saul had no doubt of that. Once they were in his brother’s hands, then Saul could bargain. Finally he had leverage. Finally Nathaniel had been the one to screw up beyond salvation. Now he had a choice to make. Either he transferred the shears to Saul or Saul gave Chloe to Delphi. Nathaniel would never allow Delphi to snuff out her life.
Of course, what Nathaniel might not know was that Saul wouldn’t either. He would protect her to his death, anything to discover the secret of her creation. The time for revolution was now. All the careful centuries of experimentation were over. Armed with the shears, Heaven would be forced to kneel at his feet. Tempted as he was to cut Azrael from this moment of glory, Saul had to have the angel’s backing. His throat burned and he tasted bile. If he fell, he expected Azrael to make good on his promise. Damn the consequences. Saul was taking the shears and the woman.
With a trembling hand, he sliced a rift into Hell and went to rally his soldiers.
Chloe slammed the door to the store shut behind her. Customers glanced up. Neve called her name. She saw them, heard Neve, and she tried to speak, but her feet were running on autopilot and her legs wouldn’t stop pumping. She ran past Neve, shouldered past her customers, and hit the stairs leading to her apartment.
Seconds later, footsteps thumped behind her as the old staircase protested such rough use. Somewhere below, a patron asked if anything was the matter. Neve paused to tell him everything was fine.
By the time Chloe heard Neve jog over the threshold, she was sliding across her bathroom’s tile floor. She opened her medicine cabinet with a shaky hand and her fumbling fingers knocked amber vials into the sink and floor, as well as into the trash and toilet.
Neve skittered to a stop seconds behind her. “You went out,” she panted, “alone.”
Chloe ignored the implied question and shouldered past Neve to reach the kitchen and her cupboard. There was nothing to tell. Nothing had happened. None of it was real.
Everything was fine.
“God, Chloe, your throat.” Neve grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. “Are those
fingerprints
?”
Chloe blinked. Could two people share the same delusion?
“Who did this to you?” Yanking aside the collar of Chloe’s shirt, Neve fanned her fingers as if testing the distance between dots. “Whoever it was had a mighty large hand.” Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t suppose he has a hammer and knows how to use it?”
“No.” Chloe blurted her denial. “Nathaniel wouldn’t… He would never hurt me.”
God, she was an idiot. He was some kind of supernatural killer. Of course he would hurt her.
“You don’t sound convinced.” Neve grabbed Chloe by the hand and dragged her to the table, shoving her down in a chair long enough to pour her a glass of water and pry the pill bottle from her hand. “Half or whole?” she asked.
“Whole.” She definitely needed the whole thing, because if Neve saw those fingerprints, then Chloe wasn’t crazy. On impulse, she unbuttoned her shirt and pulled the halves apart. Four purple-black splotches dotted across the puckered scar on her chest. She couldn’t deny the truth. The proof was written in her skin. Whatever those things were, they were real.
“What in the world are those? More bruises?” Neve yanked her shirt open before she could fasten it. “Chloe”—her voice shook with emotion—“I understand if you think you need to protect Nathaniel. Really, I do. But you can’t let him hurt you.” She sank into a chair opposite Chloe. “He seems like a nice guy, I liked him too, but my ex was the same way. He always had a smile for everyone but me. Always had big plans and other people to carry them off for him. When we were alone, though…” She shivered. “A nice guy wouldn’t treat you this way.”
That was the problem. Since meeting Nathaniel in the flesh, he had been a perfect gentleman. Her graphic dreams had stopped, and being freed from that nightly fear had been euphoric all on its own. The nightmare she remembered was cruel and merciless, but the man was thoughtful and kind. They were polar opposites. So which was the real Nathaniel?
She jumped when Neve touched her arm. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but maybe he picked you for a reason. A woman with your condition, living alone, he might have seen you as an easy target.”
He had targeted her, months ago, though Chloe couldn’t begin to guess why.
“Are you listening to me?” Neve shook her arm, jarred her from her thoughts.
“I am.” Chloe pulled back. “It’s… complicated.”
“From the inside, it always seems that way.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Mark my words, with distance comes clarity.”
Distance was a luxury Chloe couldn’t afford. She was stuck in here, and he was… “Can you do me a favor?”
“Name it,” Neve said without hesitation.
“Check the front window and see if Nathaniel is still out there.”
With a frown, she checked and then returned with her report. “He’s talking with another man. It’s not the same one as before. This one has a cane.”
It must be the third man from the alley, the one who sent Saul away. Could that monster really be Nathaniel’s brother?
Dropping her elbows to the table and her head in her hands, she groaned through a budding headache. Nothing added up. Not the dreams. Not Nathaniel. Not the man with a cane or the demon with an attitude.
Each question fed into another question. Why her? Why now? What exactly had Nathaniel done to her to make Saul want her so badly? He’d mentioned binding their souls. That wasn’t possible, was it? And why were they keeping the third man in the dark about it all? He seemed to have some status since he ordered Saul away, so why did he allow the others to shut him out?
“Is he part of the problem?” Neve’s lips set in a hard line. “I can call the cops and get them shooed away from the store if you want.”
Chloe doubted the cops could do much with either of them. Saul had vanished before her eyes, and she knew from her dreams Nathaniel could manage the same trick. The same held true for the third man. He was in good company if he needed to pull a disappearing act.
“No, I’ve never seen him before today,” she said. “I don’t know who he is.”
“You know,” Neve said, “you could always pay what you owe on that porch and tell Nathaniel you never want to see him again.”
Chloe’s laughter rang sharp. “I doubt that would work.”
Nathaniel had given his word to Saul that he would bring her to his cabin, and she got the feeling the terms were nonnegotiable. As far as they were concerned, she was going to that cabin one way or the other. All that remained was whether she put up a fight or caved like the coward she feared becoming.
“I know it’s a stretch for you—but is there any place I could take you? Somewhere Nath—that no one knows about? How about my place? It’s not much, and you’d be dodging the kids, but…” Neve searched her face. “You could take some time to think, get yourself together before you deal with him.”
Risk dragging Neve into her private hell? No way would Chloe do that to Neve or her kids. Chloe was tired of running from her fear. She was going to make her stand, here, in her home, on her terms.
“Chloe.”
Nathaniel’s voice rolled through her mind as comforting warmth embraced her.
Her traitorous heart accelerated at the sound, and something unfurled inside her, reaching for him through some undefined channel. Her sigh was one of relief when they connected. What that said for her questionable sanity and her sense of self-preservation, she didn’t want to know. Forget a ring on her finger; she’d settle for a soundproof box for her brain.
“I’m not listening to you.”
She thought hard in his direction.
“Stay out of my head.”
“And I’ve lost you again.” Neve sighed. “Well, it didn’t hurt to toss the idea out there.” She tucked a hair behind Chloe’s ear. “You’re strung out and hurting, sweetie. You need to rest. I’ll lock up early so you don’t have to listen to all the bumping around downstairs.”
Noise was part of life over the store. Chloe barely heard it anymore. Still, if a few locked doors between her and Nathaniel would make Neve feel better, she wouldn’t complain.
“Thanks.” Chloe smiled up at her. “I mean it. I think I’ll go lie down and try to read for a while. Get my head back on straight.”
“Do you want some company?” Neve took Chloe’s elbow and helped her stand. “My sitter gets off at six, but I could catch the bus home, grab the little monsters, and be back before it gets dark out.”
“I’m fine. Some quiet time will be good for me.” Chloe wanted Neve gone long before Nathaniel returned for her.
Neve worried her lip. “If you’re sure…”
“I’m sure.” Chloe shooed her. “Go on.”
“Okay, okay.” Neve gave her a quick one-armed hug. “Call if you need me.”
Chloe nodded, but she didn’t make it to the bedroom. Her couch beckoned and she crawled under her favorite ratty afghan and tried to ward the chill from her bones. She had so many questions, and unfortunately, Nathaniel was the only one who had any of the answers.
The confrontation with Saul drained Nathaniel, but he still had Bran to face and amends to make. More questions to dodge, fewer answers to give, and one last favor to ask.
“Do I even want to know what I interrupted?” Bran leaned more heavily on his cane now, and each shuffling step caused his face to crease with pain. His show of strength had been put on for Saul’s benefit. Wise move on his part since predators lived to find signs of weakness.
“It was more of the same.” Nathaniel cupped Bran’s elbow and guided him around the mess of construction. “Nothing much changes between my brother and me.”
“I know exactly what you mean.” Bran glanced toward the store. “I assume the woman hiding behind your back was Chloe since she didn’t run screaming at all Saul’s huffing and puffing.” He grunted as Nathaniel helped him sit on the tailgate. “She did look shaken up, though. Are you sure you don’t want to go up and check on her first?”
“No.” She made her wishes clear and wouldn’t welcome his intrusion. “She has a friend inside. Neve will take care of her for me. The talk Chloe and I have coming… won’t be pleasant.”
Casting Bran a second glance, Nathaniel frowned at how the sick pallor still clung to his skin. With Saul already in Dis and under Delphi’s watchful eye, he saw no point in dragging Bran into whatever plans his father had for him and Chloe. Bran didn’t have the strength to help, and Nathaniel couldn’t risk another liability. So he changed the topic.
“You weren’t supposed to leave the compound for another week at least.”
“Delphi calls, and I answer.” Bran’s shoulders lifted in what should have been a shrug. “He gave me more time than I thought he would. I can manage.”
“You can barely walk. He had no business sending you into a confrontation in your condition.” The heel of Nathaniel’s palm slapped the tailgate and rattled the metal beneath them. “He shouldn’t expect you to work until you’ve healed.”
“He was right to call me. My father isn’t my business, but a soul gone missing is.” He smoothed a shaky hand down the fender of the truck. “I didn’t realize they were blaming the missing soul on Saul until today, when Delphi summoned me to ask about it.”
Bran tapped his skull and the neat row of stitches hooked behind his ear.
“Too bad he didn’t catch me a couple of weeks ago. Neurological injuries are funny things. My memories of certain events are crystal clear.” His smile was unintentionally slanted. “While memories of certain other events were wiped completely clean.”
“What if he asks Gavriel to question you?” Delphi was no fool; it would occur to him.
“Then we’ll have a situation on our hands.” Bran opened his palm and smoke rose. He couldn’t manifest even a simple flame. “I can’t fly. I don’t have the strength. That means daytrips to Aeristitia are out. Until I can ignite my wings, you’ve got some time to make this right.”
Nathaniel closed his eyes and thanked Heaven for even a second longer with Chloe.
“You are working to make this right, aren’t you?” Bran pegged him with a hard stare.
“I am.” Just not how Bran imagined.
“Good.” He glanced at his wrist. “Time’s up. I have to get going.”
Grateful for the lighter topic, Nathaniel admitted, “I’m surprised you escaped the compound, even on Delphi’s orders.”
“Escape?” Bran pointed at a beige sedan parked across the street. “Not hardly.”
“Hannah?” The driver’s scowl should have tipped him off.
“Who else?” he scoffed. “She thinks she’s my guardian angel.”
“She does have those cute little wings.”
“Funny.” Bran scratched his chin. “I didn’t hear you mention the cuteness of her wings to her face.”
“I’m not crazy. You don’t tell someone like her something like that when there are scalpels within her reach. She would slice off my head and spit down my neck.”