“Actually, Nevaeh doesn’t need a ring or weapon.” Everyone freezes and turns to Grace, suddenly curious.
Thanks for the unwanted spotlight, Honeybunch.
“We don’t either, but they boost our powers significantly.” Angel agrees with Hazel that it’s not worth the risk. The Crescent coven is waiting for us to make one careless move.
Grace nods, but I can tell she’s not done. “Yes, but Nevaeh is the purest form of Divine in the flesh. Her powers alreadymatch a crowned Horseman. She doesn’t need a ring or weapon to—pardon my language—kick some serious butt.”
For every other supernatural being, their Divine is their primary source of power. But for Horsemen, our weapons and rings are blessed by the Sisters of Fates, amplifying our powers drastically.
Even without that extra boost, the Horsemen are a death wish to face. With our Divine and the magic of our rings and weapons combined, it’s impossible to stand against us. Heaven paid a huge price for underestimating my kind when they went after Papa for creating me.
We aren’t known as the physical manifestation of the apocalypse for nothing.
Harvey leans back smugly, waiting for everyone to realize that ‘what I’m capable of’ is not even in the same universe as ‘what I can actually do.’
They’ll know soon enough I’ve been stuffing my Divine as far back as possible because I’ve got zero control over it.
Angel’s brow furrows as he asks, “How’s your Divine treating you these days, sweetheart?”
“Good,” I reply through clenched teeth, forcing a bright smile.
“Hmm.” Angel leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “Let’s meet your essence then.”
I’m stunned by the firm order. Angel usually gives me a wide berth over things I’m uncomfortable with, but it looks like I’ve finally run out of luck because he’s not budging on this.
I bite the inside of my cheek until it bleeds. His gaze softens when he sees my hesitation. “I can’t help with your—what do you call it? Oh yeah, yourwacky Divine—if I don’t know what you’re dealing with, Nevaeh. I’m right here, sweetheart. I’ll step in if something goes wrong.”
At least he knows this will be a mess.
The day August and I escaped the coven was the only time my Divine let me take the lead. And I’m pretty sure it was only because I wasn’t stopping it from wreaking havoc. But if Angelwants to be a part of my mess, who am I to stop him?
I scratch the back of my head and let my Divine peek through. The room darkens as my essence seeps out, surrounding me with a thick golden fog… but it’s gone before I can blink.
Angel encourages me to try again, so I take a deep breath and force my Divine out. I definitely wasn’t expecting it to push back hard enough to make me stumble.
My Divine reaches out aggressively, seeking every bit of light it can find and swallowing, but then fails to contain the energy inside me, and it blasts out. Every lamp, ceiling light, and even the TV shatters under the force of my Divine.
So… I guess Angel will be paying for all that?
Thank Fates I still have a long time before I have to take over Grim Reaper duties. I’m messed up enough without having to guide souls to their rightful place in eternity. What if I scare off a freshly dead soul and they bolt? That would be bad for business.
Angel smiles at my pout and pulls me into a hug. I’m not sure if I should love or hate how much I’m starting to depend on him for my peace, because his acceptance is addictive.
I’ve seen people freak out countless times when they see my essence and how out of control it is, but this man didn’t even blink.
I look at the blank stares screaming, ‘We knew you weren’t okay,’ and smile sheepishly. “Yeah, let’s take the cars.”
Everyone laughs at my sullen expression, but Angel reminds me it’s perfectly fine to lose a few battles and offers to help me practice my control.
When Angel mentions taking Diamond for a ride once we’re home, I forget about my failures.
Yes, I named my papa’s pale horse of death,Diamond. He earned that name with his diva personality.
“Are you sure you’re not forgetting something?” Angel asks Seiji while double-checking the luggage in the second car.
“Of course, I’m not. I’m a very responsible man.”
Angel chuckles at our ever-dramatic Prince of Famine and drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “Where’s your phone?”
