Page 64 of Seraph's Tears
Three men stared up at me, mouths agape.
“G-g-gabriel? The Herald?” the center man inquired.
“Yes?” I growled, my wings flaring behind me.
Their eyes widened more, and the big one on the right fell back a step. They were likely shocked someone like myself was answering my own door. Well, a hundred years ago when I still lived with my parents in their palace I would’ve been shocked at this sight, too.
But times changed. Apparently.
“Greetings, most magnificent one.” All three men bowed. Their exaggerated obeisance made my feathers ruffle. “We humbly beg an audience with you.”
Oh. Part of Eve’s cult, then. “Which one of you is Zorababel Grimshaw?” I demanded, ready to toss them out on their rears.
The middle one, with the air of authority and smug expectation flashes an annoying smile at me. “I am the Reverend Grimshaw.”
Eve’s betrothed. I imagined ripping his head from his shoulders. He was a tall, solidly built man with thick brown hair and trimmed beard. His eyes showed sharp intelligence, though his large nose pointed in the air as if he didn’t wish to breathe the same air as everyone else. Eve could not marry that. He’d bore her to tears in less than a week.
“I am honored you already know me, oh Herald of Death.”
I inwardly sighed. Stormy skies, Eve hadn’t been exaggerating. It was as tedious as it was annoying. “I don’t have time for this.” I began to shut the door and turn. I need my mate. She was the priority now, even if the idea of beating the cult leader into a pulp was enticing.
The door caught on something. I turned, eyes narrowing down at the foot the reverend had stuck inside to block the door. The rage from a few hours earlier began to spiral. “Get your human foot out of my house,” I said coldly.
The other two, one a huge idiot and the other, a middle-aged man with the air of a scavenger, eyed me nervously.
Grimshaw, on the other hand, raised his hands as if placing a benediction on me and stepped further into my home. “My family has been searching for you for decades.”
I grunted, eying his limbs. How hard could ripping human limbs from their bodies be? Or perhaps I could take him into the air and drop him?
“Before we begin,” he said with an assurance I found grating, “I want to apologize for my messenger, the housekeeper you hired.”
My skin prickled. “Eve? What about her?” I barked.
He dipped his head. Humility did not become him. “May I come in, good sir?”
Grudgingly, I opened the door and let him into the Great Hall. He walked past me, taking in the wide, open room with the exposed, soaring beams and the few windows far overhead. He must’ve caught sight of colored light dappling the flagstone floor, for he turned toward the end of the Hall where the oriel was tucked into the corner between this wing and the servants’ wing.
I ground my teeth. “What do you have to say? Be quick about it.” I slammed the door shut in the faces of the other two men, leaving them trapped outside.
Grimshaw, hands in his trouser pockets, looked far too self-assured to be standing in the home of a seraph he didn’t know. My hands twitched at my sides. I wanted to throw him out on his wingless back, but this could be my one chance to understand Eve better. Before I tracked her down and demanded she stay and apologize properly.
He was squinting up at the stained glass of the oriel, a calculating look on his face.
“Well?” I demanded, crossing my arms.
Grimshaw looked at me. “Oh great Herald,” he began.
“You’re not fooling me with all those words,” I cut in. “Speak without trying to deceive.”
He looked affronted, and I wondered if maybe it wasn’t all an act. Maybe he did believe his grandfather’s tales. I’d assumed Eve had sent back less than glowing reports of me.
“First, I must apologize for the housekeeper you hired. I spent many years searching for you, mighty messenger. When we saw you were hiring a female servant, we knew that was the best way to make certain you were who we hoped.”
I clenched my jaw. “And you chose her. Why?”
He smiled at me, as if we were conspiring allies. “Women tend to be biddable creatures, and that fit well with our needs. Eve doesn’t contribute much to the community. She can’t cook, her mending is average, and she isn’t a great beauty. Plus, I knew she was interested in the outside world. It seemed little risk to send her off.” His face hardened. “I was unaware she would lead you along and fail to communicate clearly our hopes and desires.”
My wings tensed. “What do you mean?”
