Chapter Nineteen
“Watch it, asshole!” came the blare of a horn and an angry fist as a car swerved to avoid us.
Silas yanked me out of the street toward a stone wall, eyes wild. He barely noticed the car.
“What the hell happened?” I demanded.
He doubled over, hands on his knees as he drew in an unsteady breath. His shoulders moved with each rapid pant.
“Hey, hey, deep breaths…”
I recognized a panic attack when I saw it. He couldn’t breathe. My brow creased. I touched him lightly on the back. His wings hadn’t made the jump, leaving only a shimmer in their wake. “Hey, it’s okay. Let’s sit.”
Everything, from the grass between the cobblestones and the moss on the wall to the thick line of forest, was verdant. We appeared to be across the street from a heavily wooded park of some sort, though I couldn’t ascertain much more. Nothing looked familiar, aside from being vaguely European. I had no idea where I’d taken us. It didn’t look like anywhere I’d been before.
I waited for a break in the traffic before guiding him toward a bench amidst the emerald plant life. We sank onto the wooden planks as my hand continued moving over his back. I felt like a doctor trying to get a baby to cry. I didn’t know how to shake someone out of shock, or if that was even what was happening.
“What happened?” I asked again.
He shook his head mutely. A breeze stirred the trees, rubbing the leaves together with the burble of a freshwater stream. I looked again for a clue as to where I’d taken us but spied no writing, no signs, nothing but streets and parks and a never-ending stone wall.
“There was someone else there. You said you spotted other beings. There was a man in blue who had to have been a rebel. He helped us with security twice. But I could have sworn I saw…”
“Angels.” He breathed the word.
I nodded. Then I’d been right. They’d made good on their word.
“What does your tattoo say? What do they know?”
He unclipped the cuff from his wrist, but the inky script in tongues was gone.
“It’s not there anymore,” I prodded. “What does that mean? You’re officially cut off? …Silas?”
“I don’t feel any different. I don’t feel like I’ve fallen.”
I touched the skin of his wrist where the heavenly messaging system once had been, but he didn’t appear comforted by the gesture.
He shook my hand free as he patted his body, moving as if he was searching for wounds. Strained, he continued, “What they did to me at the concert… It was a fail-safe. It’s the one thing angels can do when someone in their army steps out of line. I was completely powerless. Marlow, I don’t think you can be around me. You’re going to get hurt. My clock ran out, and they—”
I felt like he’d thrown water in my face. “You’ve defected. Angels do it all the time. Half of Hell is—”
“Half of Hell has fallen or been cast out,” he said, throat working. “I haven’t been given the luxury of leaving. Maybe they won’tletme fall.”
My heart quickened. “So, what? You’re still one of them? You still have to follow orders?”
“I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything.”
I wanted to hit something. There didn’t appear to be other pedestrians in the park to judge me if I had a tantrum. “You’re an archangel! Who’s above you except your king? Who could do this?”
He rubbed his eyes. “They couldn’t hurt me. It took both of them to contain me. It’s why they didn’t have the juice to appear, or to stop Azrames.”
“Who, exactly?” I asked on a breath.
“Does it matter?”
I pressed my fingertip into my temple, closing my eyes as I struggled to make sense of the information.
“I can only assume they tracked me to get to you. You’re out of venom, with nowhere to hide, and I couldn’t have saved you, Marlow. If there had been three angels instead of two, you might be…”
