Wings of the Wicked Page 37

13

ON THE WAY HOME, WILL AND I SAID NOTHING TO each other, and I was glad for it. I parked in my driveway and shut the car off. Neither of us moved to get out, and my muscles just wouldn’t listen to my brain. I felt naked, silly, and ridiculous in this tiny dress and painful high heels, with all my makeup washed off my face. I pulled my hair out of its updo and shook it loose to cover my shoulders. It was barely midnight, but I felt like I’d been awake for days.

I opened my mouth to stay something to Will and turned to him, but he’d vanished from the car. Disappointment made me unwilling to move, but I forced the car door open and climbed out. As I went inside, I got a text from Kate. My battery was almost dead, but I read the text quickly.

Love u

I smiled weakly at it before dropping my phone back into my bag. I heard the TV on in the living room, so I doubled back, opting to go through the kitchen to avoid my parents, but I was too late.

“Ellie Bean?” called my mom’s voice. “Home already?”

I let out a long breath and went into the living room to face her. Thankfully, my dad was nowhere in sight. She was sitting on the couch with just the quiet glow of the television on her form and a mug of hot tea in her hand.

“Hey, Mom,” I said.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” she asked, holding her arms out as a cue for me to come sit with her.

I plopped beside her, and she set down her mug to wrap me in her arms and hold me close. I sank deep into her, finding peace in the warmth and softness of her robe and pajamas. A couple of leftover Christmas candles were lit on the mantel above the fireplace, and their rich scents flooded the room.

“The night ended not so great,” I said with a sigh, and laid my head down in her lap.

She stroked my hair gently, the way she used to when I was a little girl. “I’m sorry, Ell. You look so pretty in your dress.”

“Thanks.”

She paused. “Was Will there?”

“Yeah.”

“Was he rude to you?”

“No,” I said. “No, not at all. Things are just … complicated between us.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not tonight. What are you watching?” I looked at the TV screen for the first time and watched thousands of shimmering silver fish move in unison in front of the camera. Their perfection was beautiful, the symmetry of their movement almost hypnotic. I stared at the screen from my horizontal position, listening to a soft piano play as the fish danced their ballet lit by the sunlight filtering through the blue water. My mother’s hands brushed my cheek and my hair, gentle like feathers, and I felt like a little girl again, comforted by her touch.

“I love you, Mom,” I said softly.

“Love you, too, baby.”

I fell quiet again and gazed up at the TV as a diver floated into the wall of silver scales and fins. I let myself drift into senselessness, trying to forget how heartsick I was, to forget how to feel anything at all. The swarm of fish pushed away from the faceless diver and began to spiral around his body like spinning stars.

Will was sitting on my bed when I got to my room. He’d discarded his long-sleeved shirt and had on just his jeans and T-shirt. He looked up as I entered, and our eyes met for a moment. I sat down to his right side on the bed and reached up a hand to smooth out his disheveled hair, and my eyes fell to the silver chain around his neck. The chain slipped between my fingers, and I drew the crucifix out the collar of his shirt. My fingers brushed the silver against his chest, the fondness of my memories of it pressing down on my heart, and my gaze moved to his tattoos. My hand slid across his skin to trace the delicate swirls of ink down his neck and arm. The muscle beneath his skin rippled at my touch, and he watched me in silence. My finger followed each intricate line of ink, and as the memory came, the sadness in my heart sank into my stomach. I realized now that this was the old angelic language I’d forgotten long ago, and it was my true name tattooed down his arm. I brushed my fingertips across the script, and he trembled and took a deep breath.

“It’s my name,” I said softly. “I remember now. The language in your tattoo that gives you my protection, it’s my sigil. It binds you to me, makes you mine. It’s my name.”

His gaze followed my fingers and rose to meet my eyes. “Gabriel,” he said, his lips brushing my ear.

I fought back a tear as he said my true name and kissed my bare shoulder. I pressed into him and squeezed my eyes shut. He pulled me close, wrapping his arms around me, and kissed my hair.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “You’re right. I fear Michael, but I fear losing you so much more. I don’t want him to take you away from me, but if I don’t keep my distance, I will lose you.”

And then he drew away suddenly and left me cold. When I opened my eyes, he was halfway across my room, heading toward the window.

“Will,” I said.

He turned back to face me, but before he could speak, his cell rang. He gave me an apologetic glance as he took his phone out to answer.

“Ava?”

I felt like I was falling.

His expression became hard and worried. “Are you okay? Where are you? How many of them? No, no. We’re coming.” He shoved his phone back into his pocket. “Ellie, we have to go. Orek ambushed Ava, and he’s fighting her in the mortal world. She can’t contain him by herself.”

I jumped up and grabbed a pair of jeans and a sweater. I was exhausted and I didn’t want to leave my warm house, but I had a duty to carry out. And Ava needed help. “Meet me in my car.”

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