Okay, probably not. But I’d at least pick a hotel with decent Wi-Fi.
I open my computer, clicking to a piece of footage I’ve already watched over and over, hoping in vain I’ll catch a detail I missed before.
On the screen, a willowy, dark-haired figure pushes through glass doors. She struts forward, wearing a long wool coat that hits mid-thigh over dark, close-fitting clothing and a ridiculous set of heels that no one could fight in.
Even at nine years old, Silver had had a thing for shoes.
But this isn’t Silver, it’s a monster wearing her face. It is purely coincidental they have similar tastes.
Pausing under the awning, Silver waits for the valet to bring her car around.
“Where are you going?”
I’ve asked the screen the same question before, but never received an answer. This time is no different.
When her car arrives, she tips the valet and opens the driver’s side door. Right before she slips into the seat of a chrome-wrapped Lotus Evora, she pauses and tilts her head so she’s staring directly into the camera lens.
An oily smile slides onto her face as she blows a kiss. Sliding into her seat, she guns the engine and takes off.
There’s nothing subtle about that car or the look she shot me.
She’s luring me.
I know it. She knows it. And we both know I’m going to take the bait.
Slapping the lid of my computer shut, I crack my neck. Like a siren’s song, my gaze is dragged back to the crappy phone. A phantom breeze brushes my face, and I swear I can smell Emberly on it. I close my eyes, and as if it has a mind of its own, my hand grabs the phone and dials her number.
It’s easier to live with myself if I pretend I didn’t give the command.
The phone is pressed up against my ear before I even open my eyes. It rings twice, and I tell myself I’ll hang up when she answers. I only really need to check to make sure she’s all right. Hearing her utter a single word will be enough for me.
Yeah, right, Steel.
I don’t even believe my own lies anymore.
The phone rings for the fifth time, and I begin to get nervous. It’s never taken her this long to answer. Maybe this is the time something truly is wrong.
My heartbeat gets caught in my throat.
The sixth ring is cut off mid-chime, and my heart starts thumping again, double-time.
“Steel?” The word comes out breathy, like she’s been exercising. I check the clock and do the proper time zone adjustments and realize it’s 2 AM for her. What, besides sleeping, could she possibly be doing at this time of night?
Just like always, my mind takes me to dark places. I want to ask her what’s wrong, but smash my lips together to keep from uttering a word.
“Steel, please talk to me,” she urges.
Hanging my head, I rub my forehead with my palm. What am I doing?
I start to pull the phone away from my ear, prepared to hit End, when her next comment stops me.
“I know who my father is. Or rather, who he might be. Would you like to know?” Her words are soft, but they resonate like a bass drum, thumping around my head and making me second-guess if I even heard her correctly.
Her father? Yes. Yes, I definitely want to know. But I can’t say anything because once I do my resolve will shatter. I almost didn’t hang up the last time we spoke.
“His name is Camiel. At least that’s what I was told by . . . by someone who would know.”
Who would know who her father is? What am I supposed to make of that hitch in her sentence?
I clutch the phone like a lifeline. I have to order my hand to loosen or I’ll be left with a pile of plastic and wiring good for nothing but the garbage—and this call really will be over before it begins.
“There’s actually quite a bit that’s happened in the last few weeks. I’ve wanted to tell you, but I was hoping to be able to say it to your face. But since I don’t know when I’ll see you again, well, I suppose this will have to do. See, we might have exposed some of my origin story.” She laughs gently. “I like to call it that because I can pretend I’m a superhero. Would you like to know more?”
Tell me, I mentally order, but not even a breath passes my lips.
“I’m going to take that as a yes. So this, um, person who knows my father also knows what angel line he’s from.” Her words come out in a rush, as if she’s worried I’ll slip away before she can finish. “And it actually turns out—I can’t believe I’m even saying this—
but there’s a chance I might be descended from a seraph.”
I lean back, and the wooden chair underneath me screams and splinters. I end up sprawled on my butt and back.
“Steel? Are you okay? What just happened?”
I wouldn’t tell you even if I was talking, I think to myself.
I get up and only just stop myself from kicking the remaining lump of wood into the drywall as punishment for interrupting Emberly’s revelation.
A seraph Neph. Is that even possible? There’s never been one before. I blow out a breath and start pacing as I contemplate the implications. Nephilim pretend to know everything, but Emberly is living proof that they don’t.
“Well, I can hear you breathing, so I’m going to assume you’re still alive and kicking. I know it’s probably a shock. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t believe me.”
I believe you. I’ll always believe you, I want to shout, but I remain silent.
“I’ve had a hard time believing it myself.” She laughs again, quietly so as not to wake Ash I presume, and the sound washes over me like a warm breeze. “Part of me still doesn’t, if I’m being honest. If it is true, what if it means . . .”
What? What do you think it means?
“I have to go,” she says, rather than finishing her thought. I open my mouth to stop her from hanging up on me, but it’s too late. She already has.
Chapter Six
Sterling spins in my desk chair and whoops, “I got you, Sucker! Score one for the middle sib!”
“Sterling!” I whisper-hiss. “Why don’t you announce it to the whole girls’ dorm?”
Grimacing, he ducks his head and shoots me a guilty look, then continues a silent victory dance which includes a full-body gyration that would make any female popstar proud.
Under normal circumstances I’d have trouble masking my amusement, but my conversation with Steel hangs at the forefront of my thoughts, pressing down on my mood.
I avoid Ash’s gaze even as I feel it bounce over my face. She heard every word, including the bit where I almost confessed how isolating it feels to know I might be the only seraph angel-born. At some point during our one-sided confessional, I’d forgotten about the other people in the room. It wasn’t until Sterling turned to me with a giant grin and two thumbs-up—the signal that he’d tracked Steel’s location successfully—that I jarred back to reality. After that, I’d gotten off the phone as quickly as possible. Steel’s hung up on me so many times I didn’t feel at all guilty doing the same to him.
Rather than face Ash’s knowing eyes, I turn to Tinkle and chuck a pillow at his furry head. Currently in the form of a monkey, he scampers out of the way and onto the bookshelf.