Her eyes roll back in her head. I toss her toward an old, pitted metal door with no handle, then scoop Willow into my arms. A seizure racks her body. I have to get her somewhere safe.
The man stirs with a groan. I run for the stairs, unwilling to let these assholes witness any of my angelic power.
Once I reach the sanctuary, I kick one of the lecterns in front of the passageway. That should slow them down.
Willow gasps for breath. “I will take care of you,” I say softly. “You are safe with me.”
Closing my eyes, I call upon my talents and picture my hotel room in my mind. The man shouts, “Trap her in the void! Now!”
Her agony washes over me. So much regret and pain. The fine hairs on the back of my neck prickle. With a final wail, her entire consciousness fades into oblivion. I can sense nothing from her. Not even a trace of emotion. Yet…her heart still beats. Her chest stutters with weak breaths. What have they done to her?
A seductive, silken voice wraps around me from the stairs. “Let her go.”
“Fuck you,” I grit out. With every bit of strength I can muster, I bend the very fabric of the world to my will, and we disappear.
ELEVEN
Gabriel
Willow does not stir. Not when we appear in my hotel room. Not when I lay her on the bed. Not when I brush damp curls from her forehead.
“Trap her in the void.”
What void? Is this why I cannot sense her? Her body is here. But her mind is gone. I drop to my knees next to the mattress and cup her cheeks with my hands. Angels have many talents. I was created—not born—at the beginning, and my memory is nearly perfect.
From my post in the celestial realm, I have watched over this world. I have seen cities rise and fall. Seen men and women go to war over the smallest slights and the vilest acts.
I have met witches, vampires, shifters, fae, ghouls, and demons. Only one yeti, but perhaps that will change with time.
The woman with the black box was something new. Part fae, I am certain. No other creature could have eventriedto influence me. Had she been pure fae, I doubt I would have been able to resist her.
Closing my eyes, I search for a sliver of Willow’s consciousness. An odd sensation pulses under the heel of my right hand. Slowly, I stroke my fingers down her cheeks to her neck.
It is stronger here. Tiny vibrations under her skin. Her sweatshirt provides only the barest peek at her collarbone. At the edges of several thin, white bandages.
For the first time in my existence, I am uncertain what to do.
“Can you hear me, Willow? It is Gabriel. We met—briefly. I caught you. Then you ran. Do you remember me? I have thought of you often since that night.”
Why am I telling her all of this?
“You must fight your way free of this…void. I cannot find you there and I desperately wish to hear your voice again. And see your smile.”
A shift in the air alerts me to a presence in the room behind me. Leaping to my feet in front of Willow, I prepare to do battle with this unknown enemy.
But my gaze locks on a wispy form hovering next to the window. It’sWillow. Or her twin. “What are you?” I ask. “A ghost? She is still alive. Her heart beats. And the Angel of Death is nowhere to be found. Are you…her? Or something else?”
The being stares at me, her lips parted slightly, waiting.
“Right. I asked too many questions. Are you a ghost?”
She shakes her head.
“Is Willow dying?” I hold my breath, unsure I’m prepared for the answer.
Another no. I glance up at the ceiling and whisper a quick, “Thank you,” to the Almighty.
“Do you know how to bring her back from the void?”
