A uniformed attendant scans our tickets and points down a narrow hallway. “Your room is at the very end of the car. Instructions for the door lock are posted on the wall. Thank you for riding the United Express.”
Despite the tension in Gabriel’s body, his eyes hold a hint of excitement too. Even wonder as he takes in the compartment Sinclair booked for us and the instructions for turning the seats into a bed.
“Humans are very inventive,” he says, running his hand over the second, smaller bed currently folded up against the wall.
“You’re just learning that now? I thought you were responsible for watching over all of creation?” I settle onto one of the bench seats and stare out the window. The platform is almost empty now, only a few late travelers rushing to board.
His amber eyes darken. “I was—no, I am—not a very good angel.” My eyes start to burn.
Oh, my God.I’mnot sad. He is. Yet, I’m the one about to cry. Is this another of his talents? He said he could sense my emotions, but can he broadcast his own?
“I’m sure that’s not true.” I reach for his hand, but he grabs our suitcase and shoves it into the closet. “Talk to me, Gabriel.”
With a heavy sigh, he sits across from me, his elbows on his knees. The train’s whistle sounds, and with a lurch, we’re moving. In seconds, the constant song in my ears changes pitch. It’s softer now. More soothing. Like the Blade knows I’m coming.
Killian pipes up in my ear. “We are two rooms away. Kunchin is in the next car.”
“We require…privacy,” Gabriel says. “Call if you see anything suspicious.” He tosses his earbud onto the window sill, and waits for me to do the same. As soon as we’re completely alone, he pulls the privacy shade over the glass. The world outside takes on a gray tint, but I can still see the city in the distance.
His voice drops to a whisper. “Willow, it is time for you to see my wings.”
Gabriel
She is not ready. Or perhaps I am merely projecting my own insecurities onto her. Removing my leather jacket, I start to pace the small suite, but quickly give up when I almost run into the door on my second step.
Fuck. I wish the window opened. The walls are oppressively close.
“You are trapped in a Hell of your own making.”
The Devil’s words echo in my head. Is he right?
Even if he is, I will never admit it. Lucifer would mock me for all eternity.
I am at the door before I realize I have even moved. Only her sharp inhale stops me from escaping into the hall. “Fuck.”
“Gabriel? You’re scaring me.” Willow presses herself to my back, her arms winding around my waist. “You said your wings were damaged. If you don’t want me to see them, I understand.”
“You need to know.” I can barely force the words over the lump in my throat. “I should have called Azrael. Or Sariel. Even Lucifer. You would be safer with them.”
“I don’t want another angel. I trustyou.”
I spin around so quickly, Willow stumbles, off balance. My back starts to burn. Yanking the Henley over my head, I let out a groan.
Feathers tumble to the faded carpet. My wings tremble, only half extended in the cramped room.
Willow gasps. Tears shimmer in her eyes. Fuck me. This was a mistake. She will never look at me the same way again. If I could turn away, I would. But then she would see even more, and I cannot let that happen.
Pain racks my body as I struggle to fold my wings against my back. My legs shake. I brace my hand on the wall, gritting my teeth.
Willow takes a step forward. Then another. Her fingers settle on my shoulders. “Turn around,” she says softly.
“Do not ask that of me.”
“Too late.” Her soft smile lights up the room. Opening my senses, I let her emotions wash over me. Worry. Sorrow. Need. Acceptance. “Please, Gabriel. Stop hiding from me.”
I do not want to deny her anything. Not even this. Taking a deep breath, I brace myself. If the full extent of the devastation drives her away, will I survive it?
The tips of my wings brush the walls of the train car. I rest my forehead against the door. My heart pounds hard enough, I feel it in my temples.
