“Even angels have limits, love. I may have just found mine.”
Willow
Holy-celestial-shit. He reallyisan angel.
Despite studying mythology and the occult for years, I know so little of thisotherworld. If I believe Sinclair, demons are real too. And though my own power doesn’t match anything my studies have told me about witches, I can’t deny that Iamother.
Gabriel slumps back in the plain hotel desk chair. He’s pale, and tiny lines crinkle at the corners of his lids.
For a moment, I wonder if he’s asleep. Or maybe he passed out. But then he opens his eyes, and the molten heat shocks me enough I jerk back.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks.
I’m not prepared for the question. Or for how intensely he’s staring at me. “Uh…no?”
“The power an angel can manifest—well, as I said earlier, we have been known to break things. Unintentionally.” His smile lights up the entire room. Or maybe I’m delirious. “I have never carried anyone with me before. I feared it would be…uncomfortable for you.”
“I felt like I was on a roller coaster. But…sideways instead of down.” I scan the room, looking for my whisper, but she either didn’t follow us or she’s choosing to stay hidden.
Gabriel pushes to his feet with a groan and staggers over to his duffel bag sitting on the dresser. After a minute, he comes away with a black t-shirt and a maroon sweater. “These should keep you warm enough.”
They’re expensive. Soft. And they smell like him.
I’m not sure I can stand. My legs feel like wet noodles. But he hasn’t turned around. Does he expect me to strip down to my bra right in front of him?
“Um, a little privacy?”
“For…?”
Oh, my God. He’s genuinely confused. “I’m going to take my shirt off. What’s left of it, anyway.”
“I watched the earthen realm’s creation. I have seen many naked human bodies.”
“Not mine! Turn around. Please.” With a huff, I cross my arms over my half-exposed chest and wait, challenging him to refuse. Probably not the smartest thing to do, but I’m so verydonewith this day, I’m not backing down now.
“I will get you a glass of water,” he says, then heads into the bathroom. “Tell me when you are…clothed.”
Every muscle aches. Stripping out of my bloody tank top, I peer down at my bra. Great. It’s ruined too.
The clothes are big enough to fit two of me, and I have to roll the sweater’s sleeves three times. But the thick weave is so comforting, I don’t care.
“Okay. You can come back now.” The room only spins a little as I towards the headboard. I could sleep for a week. Maybe a month if I thought I’d be safe. But when the sun comes up, I have to run. I just hope Gabriel will let me go.
FOURTEEN
Gabriel
Willow looks so small wearing my sweater. And exhausted. Her eyelids are bruised and swollen, the skin at her neck tinged with red. She fiddles with the rolled-up sleeves as a weak shiver runs through her body.
The clock ticks over to 4:00 a.m. I set the glass of water on the nightstand, then tuck the blankets around her before I back away. She’s still wary of me.
“You should sleep. I will stay awake. If anyone comes for you, I can take us back to Sinclair’s. His penthouse is heavily warded.”
A delicate snort escapes her lips. “You look like something the cat dragged in, Gabriel. I’m not sure you could take us anywhere right now.”
I look around the room. “There are no cats here.”
“It’s a figure of speech.” Willow yawns, her swollen eyes closing for a long moment before she forces them open again. “How can you be an angel and know so little about the world?”
