“Who is Gedeon?” she asked, satisfied when he choked on his food.
Her father stood with his plate in hand and reached across the table for Rory’s. “I’ll give you two privacy.”
“Thanks, Dad,” she called after him.
When Patrick disappeared into the kitchen, Sam said, “No one you need to concern yourself with.”
A mischievous grin that would make Lauren proud spread across her face. “I shouldn’t concern myself with my king?” She grabbed her glass and took a long drink. “That’s odd.”
Sam pushed his plate away and folded his arms on the table. “If you knew who he was, then why did you ask?”
She leaned forward, mirroring his position. “Because I knewyou’d lie. Why?” Before he could answer, she added, “Why would the king assign non-Aatxemystics as guards?”
Sam’s face was blank, making her think he wouldn’t answer, but he surprised her. “We do not know. It goes against the decree of theSeraphim.”
“Then why don’t they swoop down and stop him?” She twirled her glass around, smearing the condensation on the table.
She smirked at Sam’s annoyance. “They cannot ‘swoop down.’” His massive arms bulged with his tension. “If theSeraphimuse their full power in the realms, it will destroy the realms, killing everyone. It is a last resort. Even then, it is not a decision made lightly.”
Rory paled. “Have they had to destroy the realms before?”
“OtherSeraphimhave wiped their realms clean to start over, but not ours,” he assured her. “There has been no evil bad enough to warrant that level of action.”
“Have you been in the realms since creation?” She motioned to his body. “Since you’re anAngelmost people don’t think exists.”
“No. I arrived not long after the current Umbra King took the throne,” he replied. His eyes seemed distant, as though reliving a memory before saying, “Do not ask me about Gedeon again.”
Rory’s father walked into the dining room, holding a book. “I picked this up at work last night.” He placed it on the table.
Leaning over the cover, she read the title aloud. “Re-entry: Life After Vincula.”
He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Inmates are put through an extensive re-entry program when they are released from prison to help ease them back into their normal lives,” he said, sliding his eyes toward Sam.
“You cannot go through the program,” theAngelinformed her. “No one—”
“Can know I’m back. Yeah, we’ve been over that,” she grumbled.
“I see you struggling, sport,” her father said with a sad smile. “I thought this might help.”
The knot in her chest burned. She wasn’t just struggling; she wasdrowning. Life moved on without her, and she hadn’t even realized it, and now she spent every waking moment playing catch up. “Thanks, Dad.”
“I’ll see you tonight before I leave for work,” he promised.
“I love you,” she said before he disappeared upstairs, leaving her alone with Sam once more.
The silence stretched between them, and she eyed theAngel’sbroad shoulders. “Can I see your wings?”
He scowled at her, and she bit back a smile. “No. What do you need to do today?”
Standing, she collected her glass and Sam’s empty plate from the table, but he reached over and took them from her, grabbed his own glass, and followed her into the kitchen.
“Today is Wednesday,” she told him over her shoulder as she took the dishes and loaded them into the washer.
“And tomorrow is the Plenilune,” he deadpanned. The Plenilune happened once a month when the moon was full. It was nothing special to ordinary people.
But once a year, it was important to her.
She mentally ran through the months she missed. The Plenilune was the twentieth of every month, and if her calculations were correct, tomorrow was the anniversary of Cora’s death.
