“You’re going to let her chew it?” I asked, fighting a smile. “It’s not like you can make another one if she dissolves it. I mean, I suppose you could.”
He narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth at me, but when the baby fell over on one side and cried out, he was there in a flash, soothing her, rocking her against his chest while he examined her little dark wings for damage. “Look here, little imp, you’re fine. You’re not hurt at all. You’re big and strong and—whoopsy!” He chuckled, tossing her into the air. It was one of her favorite games, where he tossed her high and she kept her wings folded to be caught again.
This time, though, she sniffed the air and extended her wings at the top of the curve, her head swiveling around, like a hound scenting prey. In a flash, she was off, zipping across the sky toward the east.
“Crap,” Gavriel muttered, and carried the sword over to me. “Keep yourself safe, Mik. I’ll go see what she’s up to now.”
“You know what she’s doing.” We both did, and it was the reason he wasn’t hurrying after her. Every day, at least once, she would fly off as fast as lightning, and Gav would find her a few hours later, bodies all around her, of what invariably turned out to be the worst sort of predators and degenerates. During her naps, he’d done some research into her victims and discovered that every one of the humans she’d executed had more than earned their grisly ends. So mostly, he just chased after her to make sure she was safe from the shadows, and that any remains were found by adult authorities, not bystanders. Usually, the clever tot had already burned them beyond recognition, so there was no need to hide otherworldly evidence.
When he wasn’t pretending to be annoyed by the entire situation, I caught Gav laughing and playing more than I’d seen him do since he was a brand-new Protector. I knew we needed to leave. Feather was the only High Angelus in Sanctuary, and the realm would be pulling on her reserves. But I still couldn’t fly, and I had a feeling Gavriel needed this time for some reason.
Needed the healing I saw happening every time the baby gurgled his name.
“It’s time to go back,”Gavriel said three days later, as he threw hot dogs one at a time into the open jaws of the baby. I’d been trying to think of a good nickname for her, but the only one that seemed to come close was Precious. Her naming mark was too smudged to make out her original moniker, but when I’d praised her, calling her a precious little demon, she’d perked up at the first word.
My wings had mostly healed enough to bear my own weight, I hoped. Gav was anxious to return to Sanctuary, as was I. Myfirst order of business there would be to discover this child’s true name, and then have a very serious discussion with Feather about what had happened in my workshop when I was on my last, forced mission to Las Vegas.
“We’re taking Precious?” I asked, though I was certain of his answer.
“She’ll contaminate Sanctuary,” he grumbled.
“We can mop.”
She gave a burp so huge she fell over, getting grass stains and soil on the pink and purple unicorn outfit Gavriel had found for her. No diapers, since she didn’t seem to process waste as a human child would, but more as an angelic Novice. She more than made up for it in drool, though thankfully the acidity of her spit was something she could apparently control.
The light around us dimmed, and I looked around. The shadows had crept around the trees at this end of the Bois de Boulogne, keeping an eye on us as well. I had a feeling they were regrouping. We needed to return home.
“We’ll enter at the Flight Hall,” Gavriel said, picking Precious up and patting her back until she burped. A tiny chunk of hot dog fell out of her mouth and landed on his shoulder. He didn’t even grimace, just picked it off and stuck it back into her open mouth with his fingers. “I’ll take her to the lower level. We’ll need to make some sort of nursery there.”
“Will we keep her presence a secret?” I wasn’t certain how to explain bringing Precious into Sanctuary. “My Maker Hall is the best place for her?—”
“No, Mikhail.” Gavriel looked horrified. “She’ll contaminate everything in there. Your tools… You’d never be able to make another Novice again.”
“That’s already the case, though, isn’t it?” I sighed at his frustration. “I understand. I’ll stay with her in the meditationrooms. You said the Guides were using them, but there were dozens. I’m sure one will be free.”
He let out a soft huff of laughter. “Remember when Seraphiel built those rooms, as—what did he call them?”
“The honeymoon suites.” I grinned. “When High Angeli Victoriel and Nariel were mated, and they were so loud no one could concentrate on learning the songs, and the Novices kept asking if Sanctuary had elephants like on Earth?—”
“And Seraphiel was so annoyed at their ‘loud mating calls’ that he prayed for an extension on Sanctuary? Then he made all the Novices ‘learn important angelic carpentry skills’ by building an entire soundproof wing?”
We were both laughing by now, but I managed to go on. “The Guide in charge back then was Necessity, right? They were so appalled, Seraphiel had to come up with other uses for the rooms besides noisy merging.”
“Necessity was so annoyed. But those two were shaking the walls, Mik!”
“Fucking up against them,” I recalled. “And everywhere. In every position and aperture. I couldn’t eat on that particular table in the Dining Hall for years.” We both shuddered.
“Time to go,” Gavriel said, hoisting the child on one hip and extending his wings. “You can fly now, yes?”
“Knowing who’s at the end of the journey?” I replied, allowing the joy I felt at being near my mate again to fill me. “Nothing could keep me on the ground.” But as we flew to the South Pole, then banked higher, and I felt the thinning of the veil between Earth and Sanctuary, my joy was stripped away. On Earth, I couldn’t hear or feel Feather, though her mark had pulsed. But now, closer, I could sense her. Almost hear her thoughts.
And she was in agony.
Gavriel, something’s wrong!I shouted into his mind.Feather. She’s hurt. It feels as if she’s being tortured. Drained, somehow.
We both fought to listen as we flew, but we weren’t close enough to the boundary between the realms to pick up even a word. For her pain to reach me meant her life was in danger.
The feather pulsed on my hand, feeling more like a hot brand being pressed into me than a gentle hum of connection. What was going on? Had the Abyss found its way into Sanctuary while we were gone? Had Feather been dragged back into the gate, and was being unmade?
