Page 186 of Drown Like Heaven
“Can you die at all?” I didn’t even know what I wanted the answer to my question to be. Probablyyes, so I knew they weren’t entirely invulnerable.
“Yes. Angels need to breathe neon the way humans need to breathe oxygen. That’s it.”
I took a good minute to process that information, then I carefully pulled the blanket off my face, lifting my head up to look at Micah standing on the rug. The black wings were still framing his powerful body, like living shadows surrounding him. It was strange, the way my body could feel a little afraid but my mind couldn’t. I still had a pit in my stomach.
“I don’t know what to make of any of this,” I informed him, sitting up and pulling my knees to my chest, the blanketwrapped around my shoulders. “I feel like I’m having a nightmare. Do your wings actually work?”
There was another rustling sound as he extended them, the blackness stretching across most of the room. They werehuge.
“Yes. They work. Do you want to touch them?”
Not really.
I want you to tell me you’re joking and this is some elaborate Halloween costume, then we can go back to normal. I wish this wasn’t real, because how am I supposed to ignore it?
But I didn’t say any of my thoughts aloud. I tentatively stood up, the blanket falling and pooling around my feet on the rug, then took a few steps towards Micah. He was holding perfectly still, save for the rise and fall of his chest, and his silver-blue eyes tracking my every movement.
I approached and stood in front of him, then carefully reached over his shoulder.
My fingers brushed over his feathers andfeelingthem, feeling their solidness under my fingertips, made cold sweat drip down my spine. I needed to get the hell out of this house, but I knew Micah wouldn’t let me leave. I couldseeit in his stare. Tears welled in my eyes and I did nothing to stop them, allowing the salty drops to quietly spill over my lower lashes.
He is nothing I should want now that I know this.
But every time I told myself to leave, I only leaned nearer.
Micah tucked the wings in closer to his body again, so I walked around behind him to see them more clearly. Confused, angry, upset, scared, needy tears continued their descent over my pale cheeks.
Stupid prey, walking further into his forest, unable to stop.
I so desperately wanted him to be my sanctuary in this moment that I’d sacrifice my own physical safety for it.He takes care of me. He protects me.
He rolled his shoulders, his strong muscles moving fluidly beneath his warm skin, flexing and tightening around the thick base of each wing. Fingers trembling, I touched one of his wings again, skimming my touch over dozens and dozens of rows of smoky feathers. I sniffled, an ache building in my chest.
“What am I supposed to do?” I whispered, barely audible.
“Keep my secret.” He pulled me around the front of him again, cupping my face with one hand, steadying me even as he shook my entire world apart. “Can you do that?”
“Of course I can do that.” I wiped my eyes.
Chapter 49
Micah
Dakota was asleep on my chest now, her back moving steadily, her cheek pressed flat against my skin. I shouldn’t have done it, but her mind had been so overwhelmed by all the information I’d just fed her about angels, and I hated seeing her stressed like that. She needed time to digest everything, needed to rest. She’d eventually learn everything. So I took away the anxiety and panic plaguing her, leaving only an innocent sleepiness. She wasn’t well enough acquainted with my aspect to recognize the subtle feeling of me erasing her emotions.
For that very reason, it was immoral of me to use my power on her.
But I’d never felt particularly strongly about my own morals.
And she’d needed to learn at some point. Mason wasn’t happy about it, but I didn’t exactly give a fuck how he felt about anything with regards to Dakota. He could suck my fucking dick. And go cry about his aspect elsewhere—not in my house.
I’d done my best to give Dakota an overview of the three angelic aspects, but I needed to keep things at a certain level of vagueness to prevent her from putting the pieces together on too many facets of my life and personality. It was also just a lot of information to take in, and I could recognize that.
I’d told her that my own power was quieter—the power of absence. Sigeians didn’t dazzle or burn brightly; we drifted like ghosts. I couldremovethings: sight, sound, smell, taste, even the feel of a hand against skin. But I didn’t explain the way emotions bent under my touch, dulled or sharpened until they no longer belonged to the person of my interest—because I’d been bending her own emotions at the time.
If I wished, I could blur people’s memories until they forgot the color of my eyes, the shape of my voice. That was why I never seemed to age; people simply forgot to notice. Dakota seemed to have some experience with this phenomenon, though she hadn’t known the explanation at the time. I assumed it had to do with her friend she’d pretended to be roommates with.
I could also make myself entirely invisible, or make her entirely invisible, but I didn’t tell her that yet.
