We stepped to the side of the cabin, where the deputy couldn’t see us, and I stared at the man I loved, really looked at him for the first time since…since everything had changed. He appeared completely human now, but I couldn’t unsee what I’d witnessed. The wings, the light, the impossible power that had saved our lives.
“So,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “Angel.”
Eamon’s face crumpled with something that looked like grief. “Yes.”
“A real angel. Like, from heaven.”
“Guardian angel, technically. And not exactly from heaven, more like… It’s complicated.”
I laughed, a sound that bordered on hysterical. “Complicated. Right. That’s one word for it.”
“Charles…”
“How old are you?”
To his credit, he didn’t look away. “I’m three hundred and twenty-two years old.”
Jesus fuck, how was that even possible? “And you’re from Ireland.”
“Aye, I am.”
“A lot of things make sense now.” I ran my hands through my hair, trying to process everything. “The Irish accent that slips when you’re emotional. The way you talk about historical events like you lived through them. Your complete inability to use modern technology.”
He sighed. “Yeah. I didn’t do a good job of selling my cover story.”
“You’re not a detective at all, are you?”
“No.” The admission seemed to cost him something. “I’m a guardian angel. I was assigned to protect you.”
“Assigned.” The word felt like a knife in my chest. Regardless of whether he was a cop or an angel, I was still a job to him. “So this whole thing, us, it was…what? An assignment?”
“No!” The word exploded from him with such force that I took a step back. “I mean, yes, protecting you was my assignment. But everything else, everything between us…” He stopped, pressing his lips together like he was trying to hold back words that would only make things worse.
“Everything between us was what?”
“Real,” he whispered. “More real than anything I’ve felt in three centuries of existence.”
Relief flooded through me, so intense it left me dizzy. “Then what’s the problem? I know the truth now. We can?—”
“We can’t.” The finality in his voice stopped me cold. “Angels and humans… It’s not allowed, Charles. There are rules. Laws. When this assignment is over, I’ll be recalled and assigned to somewhere else. Another protectee, another case.”
“But you don’t want that.”
“What I want doesn’t matter.” His voice broke on the words. “I’m not human, Charles. I’m not even supposed to be capable of feeling this way about someone I’m protecting. What’s happened between us… It goes against everything I was created for.”
I stared at him, feeling my heart shatter into a thousand pieces. “So that’s it? We say goodbye and pretend none of this happened?”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice?—”
“Not for me.” Tears were gathering in his eyes, making them shine in the starlight. “I love you, Charles. I love you more than I ever thought possible, more than I understood I could love anyone. But I can’t change what I am or the laws that govern my existence.”
The words should have been a comfort—he loved me, had said it aloud for the first time—but they felt like a funeral dirge for something beautiful that was ending before it had truly begun.
“How long?” I asked quietly.
“How long what?”
