Wings of the Wicked (46 page)

My brow lifted. “Oh?”

“I heard something,” he said, the gleam in his eyes going out like candle flames. “Before my father … died. About something he was very afraid of, something he didn’t want you to find. The hallowed glaive. It sounds very important.”

“The hallowed glaive?” I repeated, putting the puzzle pieces together in my head. “A glaive is a type of blade, so it may be a weapon of some kind.”

He nodded. “Yes. I think it’s perhaps one that can destroy Sammael and even Lilith. I think you should look into it.”

“It could even be a relic.”

“Maybe,” he said. “But maybe not. Information on something like this would be in the grimoire, but Sammael still has it, and there’s no way I would be able to infiltrate and get it back. They know me as a traitor now.”

My lips tightened. “You’re right. It would be too dangerous for you to go back.”

“For you, as well.”

“I know,” I said. “But I don’t have a choice. We need that book.” But as soon as I said it, I remembered there may be another hope. “Then again, Nathaniel said he had a copy of the grimoire. It’s missing from his collection, but we’ve got to find it. This book is our only hope. I can’t face Sammael again without a real chance at beating him. We need the big guns for this one.”

His face brightened with hope. “Any idea who could have taken it?”

I shook my head, and an invisible force tightened around my heart. “No. Nathaniel is dead. He’s the only one who knew anything about that book.” I slumped against the tree beside Cadan. He pushed himself off the trunk and faced me, looking down serenely.

“There’s always a chance,” he said. “I’ll help you find it.”

That put a smile on my face. I knew he’d keep that promise as well as he could. He’d given up all that he knew because he believed in me. I needed to believe in him, too. “Thank you, Cadan.”

“Of course.”

I bit on my lip and stared at the ground, battling inwardly with myself. I wanted to tell him what I’d learned about Will, but I wasn’t sure if I ought to, especially since Will didn’t know yet.

“Whatever you want to say must be important if you’re making that little face.”

“Oh!” I jumped, embarrassed, and felt heat rushing into my cheeks. “Yeah, it’s important.”

“Are you going to tell me?” he pressed.

“It’s about Bastian,” I admitted, unable to hold it in any longer. “Back in that creepy basement, he was talking to Will, asking him to join him, and he said … that Will was his son.”

Cadan’s eyes widened in surprise, and his lips parted. He didn’t move or blink for what felt like minutes.

I continued, speaking slowly and carefully. “If what he said is true, then Will is your half-brother. His mother is an angelic reaper. Yours, I assume, is demonic.”

At last there was life on his face. He swallowed painfully hard. “Are you sure?”

“That’s what Bastian claimed.” I didn’t tell him that Bastian had also said he had loved Madeleine. That somehow seemed private, even though Bastian had thrown it into Will’s face in front of everyone in that room. Cadan also probably didn’t want to hear that part. I knew nothing of his mother and how Bastian may have treated her. I didn’t get the impression that Bastian had ever been kind to Cadan, so why would he have been kind to his mother?

Cadan stared through me at nothing, his eyes unfocused and dazed. I could see him calculating in his mind, lost in thought.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

He blinked. “I’m just … very surprised. No wonder we never liked each other. Innate brotherly rivalry, I suppose, besides loving the same girl. Anyway, Will has every right to hate me.”

I frowned. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I did nothing,” he said again. “Geir and I were the ones who captured Will and took him to Bastian. The night Ragnuk killed you and took you to where Bastian held Will, I was there. And I did nothing. I just let it all happen.”

We fell into silence. I could hear the regret in Cadan’s voice. He hadn’t been able to stand up to those who controlled him until now. I understood that feeling of helplessness better than most. It took an extraordinary amount of courage to stand up to those you fear, whether they were Hellspawn or blood family or both.

“It’s rather strange that the first time I saw you,” he said, swallowing hard at a pause, “you were dead. I like it better when you’re alive.”

“That’s funny. Me too.”

He smiled sideways for an instant. “I’m serious, Ellie.”

“But you didn’t do nothing the night Bastian took me,” I assured him. “You came to save me, didn’t you?”

His gaze fell to the grass at our feet. He nodded.

“Bastian was going to fight Will and probably kill him,” I continued. “You stopped that. You saved both our lives. You protected us, and you stood up for humanity. That took a lot of courage and good in you. Thank you, Cadan.”

He opened his mouth to speak but was hesitant. “I killed my own father to do it.”

I chose my words carefully. “Do you believe what you did was wrong?”

His brow furrowed and his eyes darkened as he continued to stare at the ground. “What he wanted was wrong. I just didn’t know how else to stop him. But I feel …” He looked up at the green canopy of the tree above us. “I feel like it doesn’t matter that he’s dead. Sammael and Lilith are alive. Merodach is still out there, and there’s no telling how many other demonic reapers are in league with them. I felt like it was in vain. Like nothing good came out of it anyway.”

I studied his face, the sorrow in his eyes. He was beautiful, even when he was sad. “That’s not true,” I said gently. “You’re free.”

His gaze slowly fell to mine and his eyes flashed. He watched me as I had just watched him, and a quiet smile curved his lips. “I suppose you’re right.”

“What are you going to do?” I asked. “Now that you aren’t doing Bastian’s bidding?”

He shrugged. “Live, I guess. Help you find that book maybe. Take up knitting. Who knows where the wind will take me?”

I made a serious face and nodded. “Knitting sounds right up your alley.”

He grinned and gave a soft laugh. “I hear it’s all the rage.”

We laughed, and after a few moments, an ache grew in my heart. “Thank you for everything, Cadan.”

“Of course.” His shoulders sank as if he knew where this was going.

“I can’t tell you how much it means to me,” I said. “How much
you
mean to me.”

“I feel a
but
coming.”

I sighed and purposely avoided using that word. “Will is my Guardian. We’ve been through so much together, and I’m in love with him.”

He didn’t reply right away, but his gaze fell to my lips for only a heartbeat before returning to my eyes. “I know, and it’s okay.”

“Are
you
okay, though?”

He gave me a beautiful smile. “I’ll never be okay. I’ll never stop wanting you, but… I can’t have you and I’ve accepted that.”

Sadness pulled me down like a churning undertow. “I’m sorry. I mean it. But you know that …” I trailed off, afraid of hurting him anymore with what needed to be said.

There was a curious little smile in the corner of his lips, and an icy hand squeezed my heart. “What?”

I took a deep breath and tried again. “You have to know that the only reason you feel like this is because of what I am.”

He shook his head, confusion filling his eyes like cold water washing away the opal flames. “What … you are?”

“The Preliator,” I continued painfully. “Gabriel. Because I’m an archangel. Nathaniel told me that it’s instinctive, this attraction, or whatever you want to call it.”

His smile vanished and his jaw set, muscles clenching. “Love.”

“Yeah,” I said, and my lip trembled with the word. “It’s an effect that the divine have over all reapers. It’s not real. It’s an infatuation.” That sounded so harsh, but it was true. At least, unlike most demonic reapers’, Cadan’s attraction was romantic instead of violent.

“And what about Will?” he asked almost defensively. “Is his love for you real?”

I chewed on my lip. “Will and I … we have five hundred years of history. We’ve been through the best and worst things two people can endure together. We’ve fought
for
this, fought
against
what we feel, for a very long time. Cadan, you and I—we barely know each other.”

He looked away from me for only seconds, but it felt like a lifetime. He swallowed hard. “It feels real to me.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, my heart threatening to crack like glass.

His face softened, and the anger that had just traced his brow melted from his gentle gaze. “I’m glad I still feel what I feel, whatever it means. It feels good. I can’t regret that.”

I bit on my lip, swallowing back tears, and I quelled the urge to move to him, to curl myself into him and feel his presence all around me. “Cadan …”

He touched my cheek. “No matter what you choose, I’ll defend you against anything. I can’t be your Guardian, but I’ll protect you like one.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “I trust you.”

“Even though I’m demonic?”

I grinned back and sniffed, my smile trembling. “Even though you’re demonic.”

His smile grew. “Even the demonic can be blessed. Who’d have thought?”

I stood up on my toes and kissed his cheek gently, kissing him good-bye. His hands took my hips and pulled me closer to him. He kissed my neck and moved his lips toward my own, wanting more, but I drew back and put my hand to his chest, stopping him. I couldn’t give him what he wanted. I couldn’t give him more.

“Get a room!” someone shouted behind us, the words followed by a chorus of laughter. Mortified, I covered my face in my hands and didn’t turn around.

A sly smile darkened Cadan’s expression, and he nodded over to the rude kid. “I like the way he thinks.”

I smacked his chest. “Shut up.” But I was grinning, happy to see him back to his old self.

His smirk eased effortlessly into a warm smile, and he thumbed my cheek. “I’m going to miss this.”

I let out a snort. “What? Me smacking you?”

He laughed. “No,” he said softly. “Touching you. Kissing you. I envy my brother.”

Sadness filled me heavily, and I felt like a bag of sand stitched together with string, unable to move without ripping open. “You won’t have to miss
me
, though. I want you to be my friend. I don’t want to lose you.”

He sighed. “I know. And I want to be your friend, too, even though I want more. But I will love just being your friend, Ellie.”

“I’m glad,” I said. “I need you in my life.”

“Ask me for anything, any task, and I’ll do it for you,” he promised. “Call me anytime, for anything. I wish you well.”

I smiled as Will’s brother disappeared into the Grim, fading away like smoke from a flame. “Good-bye, Cadan.”

32

FOR AN ENTIRE WEEK, I WAS FORCED TO LISTEN TO every single senior girl run her mouth off about prom. It was to be held on Saturday night at a fancy hotel, and by Wednesday, with only three days left, it was all anyone could manage to talk about. I was so sick of hearing about it.

I must have heard the exact colors of Kate’s and Rachel’s dresses a thousand times. I knew what shoes they were going to wear. I knew what shades of makeup and nail polish they’d get done at the salon. Of course Kate was going with Marcus and Rachel was going with Evan. Of course they’d harassed the guys into matching the colors of their dresses. Prom was going to be perfect.

For them.

I wasn’t going. I’d been gone too long, and I was too exhausted from struggling with catching up in school so I could graduate with my friends, too absorbed with things that actually
mattered
to have gone out and looked for dresses. Not that prom didn’t matter to me at one time, but I supposed it didn’t matter anymore. The plan had always been for Kate and me to pick out dresses together, but she had to get one while I was AWOL, before the selection at the mall was picked clean.

My grumpiness had not gone unnoticed by Will. I had snapped at him a few times that week, though I hadn’t meant to. My agitation had caused my temper to be short, and I hated that I kept taking it out on him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as we sat in his living room watching TV after I’d done a load of homework. I had been lying across his lap for a little while, but something he’d said had annoyed me for no reason and I’d grumbled slightly nasty things at him and shoved myself to the other end of the couch like a brat.

“Nothing,” I replied sharply.

He let out an aggravated sigh. “It’s not nothing. Frankly, you’ve been on edge for days. I don’t even know what I just said a minute ago to make you mad at me.”

I laid my head back against the couch. “Sorry. I’m just in a bad mood.”

“For days?”

“It’s been a bad week, okay?” I tried to keep my voice even, but I doubted my success at doing so.

“Well, tell me about it,” he offered. “Maybe I can help.”

“You really can’t.” The snark was back. I wanted to smack myself. He didn’t deserve this.

“Let me try.”