“And their offspring.”
“You want to put the Nephilim on a list of watch words? You’re a brave man. Have you decided how you’ll explain where you came up with the idea?”
“I was hoping you might take care of that at your end. Your boss is a little more . . . tolerant of these ideas than mine.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
“So how’s the other stuff going? Any give from your other half with regard to helping us out?”
Alex’s grip on the phone tightened until pain radiated from her knuckles through her wrist. “Some. He’s looking into the babies that are disappearing. Trying to find out where they’re being taken.”
“The ones that haven’t been taken by various governments, you mean.” Henderson grunted. “It’s about bloody time he came around. Those superpowers of his would come in handy right now, wouldn’t they?”
She choked on her inhale. “I should go. I’m still canvassing the neighborhood, and I’d like to finish before midnight.”
Silence. Then, suspiciously, “What aren’t you telling me, Jarvis?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit. Spill.”
A thousand demons hammered at the inside of her skull—a metaphor far too close to actuality for peace of mind. “I have a new partner. Well, a new old partner. Aramael is back. One of the Fallen has been watching me.”
“What the hell, Jarvis?” Henderson growled. “I thought you were done.”
“Trust me, so did I.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
“Does Seth know?”
Trust the Vancouver detective to get right to the heart of the matter. “Not yet.”
“Are you going to tell him?”
“I have to.” That, and a whole lot more.
“He’s not going to like it.”
“You called him the soulmate you can never have. Is that how you think of him?”
“No,” she said. “No, he’s not. And now I really do have to go, Hugh.”
“All right. But you call me if you need me, Alex. Anytime. I mean it. I don’t care if it’s three in the morning, understand?”
She gave a nod the Vancouver detective couldn’t see and ended the call.
Chapter 28
Seth glowered at the Archangel standing stiffly in the doorway.
“Finally come to finish what you started?”
“To talk.”
“I know what you want. The answer is no.”
“The Naphil told you?” Surprise flickered across Mika’el’s face.
“It’s true, then. You did visit her.”
Mika’el’s eyes narrowed. “She didn’t tell you. Then how do you know?”
“Like the rest of my life, that would be none of your bloody business.” He moved to close the door again, but the Archangel’s hand snaked between it and the frame, pushing back.
“We need your help.”
Seth stared, torn between laughing at him and slamming the other’s hand in the door. “After what you tried to do to me? Are you out of your mind?”
“I did what was necessary.”
“You tried to have me killed, Archangel, and the One—my own mother—went along with you.”
“It wasn’t an easy decision for her. We’d run out of options.”
“Cry me a fucking river.”
A muscle in the Archangel’s jaw twitched. “You’re the one who reneged on his duty in the first place,” he snapped. “None of this would have happened if you had done as you were supposed to do.”
“Bullshit. At best I might have been able to delay the inevitable a little longer, but that was all. Because war is just that—inevitable. Whatever choice I made would have been ignored by both sides. Lucifer wouldn’t have given up—won’t give up—until every last mortal is wiped from the face of this planet. You know it, I know it, and she knows it. This battle will never end.”
“There won’t be a battle if you don’t shut up and listen.”
“I’m not interested.”
Mika’el shoved the door wider. “This isn’t about the One or Lucifer, damn it. It’s about the survival of the mortal race.”
“Not interested in them, either.”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, you live with them.”
“I live with Alex.”
“She’s one of them.”
Seth scowled. Samael had used the same words. Sought to make the same distinction that, despite Seth giving up his divinity, Alexandra was mortal in a way he could never be. He jutted out his chin.
“She’s different.”
“Because she’s Nephilim?”
Because she’s mine. “Maybe.”
“That doesn’t make her any less mortal.”
“And if I take back the power? Will that make her any less mortal?”
“You know it won’t.”
“You’re bloody right, it won’t. I also won’t get any more time with her than I have now—in fact, I won’t get any time with her at all, will I? I’ll have to give her up, return to Heaven, and watch her die with the rest of humanity without interfering because my mother’s rules won’t permit it. Isn’t that what taking back my power will mean?”
“Damn it, Seth, the entire human race—”
“Isn’t it?”
Mika’el said nothing.
“Then fuck the power, and fuck you,” Seth said viciously. “I damn near died—twice!—to get to where I am now, Mika’el. Don’t you get it? I love Alex as I have never loved anything or anyone before. I will not give up what precious little time I have with her for the sake of an already dying world. Now get the Hell out of my life—and hers.”
Chapter 29
“You’re late.”
Alex hesitated for a bare breath of an instant, then secured the dead bolt on the door and turned to face Seth. “I left you a message earlier.”
He leaned against the living room door frame, arms crossed, shoulders stiff. “And I left you three.”
“I’m sorry. I know I said I’d answer, but there was an incident.”
“The stoning? I saw it on the news.”
“It’s these pregnancies. People are terrified.”
“And so they kill innocent pregnant women?”
She lifted her chin at the coldness in his voice—coldness, and a derisive note that made her spine stiffen. “No. A very small minority do things like that. The rest of us try to stay calm and stop things from getting out of hand.”
Seth studied the floor between them. “You really care about them, don’t you? These mortals.”
“Of course I care. I’m one of them.”
“You know I don’t understand why.”
“Give it time. Get to know us better. We’re not all like the ones who killed those women.”
“I’m not interested in getting to know the others.”
She snaked a hand through her hair. “I thought we got past this last night,” she said tightly. “When you said you’d try. That you’d help.”
“And you said you’d answer your phone if I called. The lies simply abound, don’t they?”
Struggling with irritation fueled by fatigue, Alex made herself take a deep breath. “I wasn’t lying, but you’re right, I should have made it clear that it’s not always possible to answer right away. I’m sorry.”
“That’s it?”
“What more do you want me to say? We’ve been over this a hundred times, Seth. I’m a cop. This is my job.”
“Fine. Then tell me about that job. About your day. All of it.”
Alex’s heart skidded to a stop. Restarted with a thud that jolted through her.
He knew.
She crossed her arms over herself. Her voice quiet, unlike the blood hammering in her ears, she said, “Michael came to see you.”
The muscle in his jaw went tight again. Fury and hurt glittered in equal measure in his black eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know how. With all that’s happened, I was afraid you’d be angry. I didn’t want another fight.”
“I am angry, but my fight isn’t with you. Unless . . .”
“Unless what?”
“Unless you agree with them.”
“He’s going to destroy your world.”
“Do you?” Seth asked.
“No. No, of course not. But—” She slumped against the door, shaking her head at the surreality of their conversation. At the two of them, standing in their apartment hallway, calmly discussing the fate of her entire race. “Are they right? About the power you released destroying the world?”
“The war between my parents will destroy the world, Alex. Lucifer’s hatred for humanity will destroy the world. It began with your creation, and it won’t end until every last one of you is wiped from existence.”
“Even if—?”
“Taking back my powers might end an imbalance, but nothing more. The Nephilim will still be born, still become an army, and still annihilate your race. And I will still lose you. Without having had the briefest of lives with you, I will watch you die and then spend eternity living with your memory and the knowledge that, under my mother’s rules for the universe, I could do nothing to save you. Is that what you want for us?”
Her chin jerked up. “That’s not fair. This isn’t about what I want, Seth, it’s about what’s right.”
“Is it?”
“Of course it—”
“I know he’s back.”
Her teeth snapped shut. After all that, Michael had told him about Aramael? Without at least warning her? Son of a bitch. “I was going to tell you.”
“Of course you were. As soon as you told me about Mika’el.”
She ignored the shot, rubbing a weary hand over her eyes. There was no easy way to do this. “He was waiting for me at the office this morning. He’ll be working with me as my partner again.”
“And you’re okay with that.” Seth delivered the words in a tone so cold that it turned the air between them frigid.
There was no easy way to do this, either.
“Luci—” The name caught in her throat. She rubbed false warmth into her arms and tried another approach. “I’m being watched. By one of the Fallen. Michael thinks I need protection.”
“Your soulmate’s protection.”
“The Fallen One is an Archangel. Aramael is the only one—” She stopped. Telling him that Aramael was the only one who would lay down his life for her would not help matters.
But Seth had already filled in the blanks, his features going so still they might have been carved from marble. Hard, unyielding marble. “The only one who would die to protect you,” he said. “Because that’s how powerful a soulmate connection is. I should have known.”
“It doesn’t change anything, Seth. I made my choice. I love you, not him.”
Silence stretched between them, a vast emptiness that widened with every tick of the utilitarian clock on the living room wall. Until, without speaking, Seth walked down the hallway to the bedroom and closed the door. The lock clicked into place with a snap that found an echo the length of her spine. She waited for long seconds and then, with a sigh rooted in her toes, headed for the kitchen and the bottle of ibuprofen. She’d give him time to cool off, get her headache under control, and—
Her steps dragged to a halt. She stared at the dining room table, with its guttering candles and the hardened wax pooled at their bases. The cold, congealed food sitting on the plates. The bottle of wine, a corkscrew beside it. She forced her feet to carry her forward. With stiff, spare movements, she cleared Seth’s dinner efforts, scraping the food into the kitchen garbage can, placing the tepid wine in the fridge, blowing out the candles, putting away the napkins and silverware.
When only the spilled wax remained on the table, she took down the bottle of Scotch from the cabinet beside the stove, collected a glass, and retreated to the living room for the night.