“No,” I mouthed. I wasn’t allowed to think about that.
I screwed up my courage, took a breath. “Who are you?” I called out.
The man turned back to me. I still couldn’t see his face, but his eyes shifted golden in the pale light that sifted through the trees.
“Golden eyes, better be wise,” went the war song that warned children to stay away from angels.
There was a shift of light as his wings retracted, disappeared. That was one of the reasons angels had been so terrifying during the war: You didn’t know they were angels until they were preparing to fly.
Darkness engulfed him again. I couldn’t tell if he was friend or foe, if he was waiting for a moment to strike—or looking for the same information we were. After all, the wraiths’ violent existence only strengthened the idea that Paranormals were bad, dangerous, and always our enemies.
“Claire?”
I jumped at the sound of Liam’s voice, glanced back in surprise. And when I looked at the tree line again, the man was gone. “Damn.”
“What are you doing?”
“There was someone out here.”
His gaze shifted to the oaks, scanning back and forth. “Where?”
I pointed out the spot. “I think it was an angel.”
“I haven’t seen any angels outside Devil’s Isle. You’re sure you saw wings?”
I nodded. “Yeah. And I’ve seen Nephelai and Valkyries. I know how to tell the difference, even in the dark.” Especially in the dark. “It was an angel.”
“I’m not sure getting closer to it was a great idea.”
“And you’d have let him fly away?”
“Fair point.”
“Damn right it is.” I walked forward, both of us searching for a clue about who the angel had been, and what he’d been doing here.
Liam crouched, hands folded in front of him. “Here,” he said, pointing at a shoe print in an area just soft enough to hold the impression.
“Why would he be out here?”
“I don’t know,” Liam said, and I didn’t like hearing that tight, concerned tone. He was worried. He rose again, and we stood in the dark for a moment.
“Thank you for coming here tonight. For Gunnar. And for me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“We should get back inside,” I said. But neither of us moved. We stood there together, the only sounds our breathing and the hum of cicadas, the soundtrack of a warm Southern night. When I started toward the door, Liam reached out and took my wrist.
His skin was hot against mine, his eyes dark and intense, and just as heated. There was need there, I thought, but that wasn’t all. Need was a simple emotion. And there was nothing simple about the desire in his eyes.
“You guys in there?”
I blinked at the sound of Gunnar’s voice on the other side of the tree line. And just as the fog had lifted and rolled away, the moment passed. Liam’s fingers slipped away.
“We’re on our way out,” Liam called back.
• • •
Cantrell might have had issues with Containment, but Stella ignored them. By the time we returned to the house, she’d put together a dish for us to take home. The meal wasn’t nearly as fancy as her house—MREs doctored into a casserole—but the thought was nice.
Gunnar decided to stay the night at his parents’, so he borrowed Campbell’s jeep and took us back to the store. Liam and I didn’t say anything to each other for the entire ride.
Tadji and Burke met us at the door. A board game was spread out on the table. Tadji didn’t look overly irritated, so I took that as a good sign.
I screwed up my courage, took a breath. “Who are you?” I called out.
The man turned back to me. I still couldn’t see his face, but his eyes shifted golden in the pale light that sifted through the trees.
“Golden eyes, better be wise,” went the war song that warned children to stay away from angels.
There was a shift of light as his wings retracted, disappeared. That was one of the reasons angels had been so terrifying during the war: You didn’t know they were angels until they were preparing to fly.
Darkness engulfed him again. I couldn’t tell if he was friend or foe, if he was waiting for a moment to strike—or looking for the same information we were. After all, the wraiths’ violent existence only strengthened the idea that Paranormals were bad, dangerous, and always our enemies.
“Claire?”
I jumped at the sound of Liam’s voice, glanced back in surprise. And when I looked at the tree line again, the man was gone. “Damn.”
“What are you doing?”
“There was someone out here.”
His gaze shifted to the oaks, scanning back and forth. “Where?”
I pointed out the spot. “I think it was an angel.”
“I haven’t seen any angels outside Devil’s Isle. You’re sure you saw wings?”
I nodded. “Yeah. And I’ve seen Nephelai and Valkyries. I know how to tell the difference, even in the dark.” Especially in the dark. “It was an angel.”
“I’m not sure getting closer to it was a great idea.”
“And you’d have let him fly away?”
“Fair point.”
“Damn right it is.” I walked forward, both of us searching for a clue about who the angel had been, and what he’d been doing here.
Liam crouched, hands folded in front of him. “Here,” he said, pointing at a shoe print in an area just soft enough to hold the impression.
“Why would he be out here?”
“I don’t know,” Liam said, and I didn’t like hearing that tight, concerned tone. He was worried. He rose again, and we stood in the dark for a moment.
“Thank you for coming here tonight. For Gunnar. And for me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“We should get back inside,” I said. But neither of us moved. We stood there together, the only sounds our breathing and the hum of cicadas, the soundtrack of a warm Southern night. When I started toward the door, Liam reached out and took my wrist.
His skin was hot against mine, his eyes dark and intense, and just as heated. There was need there, I thought, but that wasn’t all. Need was a simple emotion. And there was nothing simple about the desire in his eyes.
“You guys in there?”
I blinked at the sound of Gunnar’s voice on the other side of the tree line. And just as the fog had lifted and rolled away, the moment passed. Liam’s fingers slipped away.
“We’re on our way out,” Liam called back.
• • •
Cantrell might have had issues with Containment, but Stella ignored them. By the time we returned to the house, she’d put together a dish for us to take home. The meal wasn’t nearly as fancy as her house—MREs doctored into a casserole—but the thought was nice.
Gunnar decided to stay the night at his parents’, so he borrowed Campbell’s jeep and took us back to the store. Liam and I didn’t say anything to each other for the entire ride.
Tadji and Burke met us at the door. A board game was spread out on the table. Tadji didn’t look overly irritated, so I took that as a good sign.
