Page 56 of Seraph's Tears
“It’s not there now,” I snapped. My heart jerked with the realization that, actually, it was. I kept it on my person whenever I was awake. Whenever I was anxious I would slip my hand in my pocket and stroke the fine filaments to soothe myself.
“We will give him the finest of wines and choicest of meats,” Zor told me, lisp twisting with dismay that he had to share parts of his plan with me. “We will hold him in the highest respect. He shall be our second god, and we will worship him. Erlik has decreed it so.”
I squinted, trying to read through the lines. “He doesn’t eat much,” I told him, turning to face him fully. “He needs the sunlight more than food.”
Zor stroked his chin. “We could make our enclosure out of glass panes, I suppose.”
“Enclosure?” My mouth dropped in horror. “He’s not a zoo animal!”
“Of course not! He’s a god,” Zor snapped.
I opened my mouth to argue, but a sudden weight pulled on one side of my skirt. I glanced down to see one meaty hand in my pocket.
“Hey!” I slapped at the hand, looking up in outrage at Absalom’s belligerent face. “That’s mine!”
He jerked his hand out, Gabriel’s feather between his dirty fingers. “Got it.” He twirled it in the air high about my head.
“Give it back, Absalom!” I jumped, trying to reach it. My necklace, trapped between my chest and my bodice, scraped my skin.
“Elder Meadows,” Zor absently corrected me as he hastily wrote his signature.
“Don’t think so.” Absalom’s smug smile hadn’t changed since we were children, scampering over and under pews and playing catch the ball. Just as much of a bully as always.
Seething, I poked a finger in his face. “That is not yours. Give it back.”
“Eve,” Zor snapped.
I looked over at him. He’d risen and was holding the letter out to me. “Take it to him. Don’t ruin anything.”
I huffed. “Zor, tell him?—”
He stared at me, and two decades of training made me fall silent. I fumed, careful not to let anything but compliance show in my eyes.
“Take it and go.”
I cast one last look at the feather Absalom was crushing between his fingers. Gabriel doesn’t miss it. He has two entire wings full of feathers. You can get another.
Except I was leaving at noon tomorrow.
I blinked back angry tears, tilted my chin, and stalked out the door.
“You’re welcome,” Zorababel called to my back.
I gritted my teeth and hurried back to Mirkwold. All the way back, my heart galloped. Plumes of frosty breath puffed in the air as my head spun. I wasn’t ready to leave Gabriel. I hadn’t even finished the stained glass oriel. I wasn’t ready. Tears pricked my eyes, and I bit the inside of my lip to keep from weeping.
I was such a fool. I knew I shouldn’t have fallen for Gabriel. Now I was about to pay the price.
I tripped on a clod of dirt in the road and gritted my teeth at the pain in my toes. All I wanted was to fall into my box bed and cry myself to sleep. I should never have come. I should’ve run away before I even arrived at the seraph’s manor.
Too late now.
Chapter Twenty
Eve
I slipped inside the heavy front door, immediately kicking my dirty shoes off. I sniffed, the cold air making my nose runny and my eyes weepy. Or maybe it was my exhausted heart. Putting my shoes in a dark corner, I turned to tiptoe through the Great Hall. I didn’t know if Castiel and Azrael were still with Gabriel, but it was nearly supper. I turned toward the kitchen to prepare something.
A whir of wings startled me. I put a hand to my chest and looked up to see Gabriel dropping from the gallery above. He descended, the personification of male grace, and his gaze locked on me. His white wings seemed to glow in the shadowed room. I resisted the urge to reach up to stroke his feathers.
