Michaela struggled to open her eyes, which were swollen and raw from crying. She was too exhausted to pull herself up even a fraction. She looked for Clark, ready to ask for more water.
He stood unmoving at the window with hands clenching the sill, his eyes unblinking into the night. Michaela didn’t see him breathe. The edges of his profile blurred slightly, like she was looking through rounded glass. But it wasn’t just his face—the entire room was hazy behind the density of the unmoving air.
“Clark?” she asked. He didn’t move. His mouth hung slightly open, caught in between breaths.
The doorknob turned, splintering the quiet. Michaela froze, unable to look away as the old door swung open on stuttering hinges until it banged against the wall.
The space of the doorway was illuminated where it should have been dark. She expected the inky depth of a fallen’s glare. The black glint of dagger-like feathers should have cast gleaming shadows across the cabin’s floor.
Instead, the white luminescent feathers of a holy angel brightened the stilted particles of air in the room. His gold eyes seemed to break apart into tiny shards of golden dust as he took in her dirty, bloodied form on the sagging cot.
Michaela’s heart raced to catch up from where it had left off. Her fear dropped away, and a huge smile broke out across her face.
“You found me.” Her voice cracked, breaking across the thickness filling her throat.
Gabriel slipped into the room, crossing to her with barely a whisper of sound. He crouched beside her and lifted his hand to her face. His fingers were cool as they trailed across her cheek, stilling at the bruise he found there. His eyes settled on the others that formed an angry circle around her neck. Slowly, he shook his head. The sadness had not left his eyes, even though Michaela’s heart thrilled in her battered body.
Gabriel looked to Clark across the room. Michaela saw the flicker of recognition in his eyes. If anyone would know a Descendant, it would be a messenger angel like Gabriel.
“No, Michaela. I haven’t found you.” His voice was heavy.
She struggled to understand. Her mind told her that Clark still hadn’t moved, nor had the air, but she refused to listen.
“But you’re here. You’re here with me. Gabe, I feel your touch,” she said. Her hands clutched at the cot.
“I’m channeling you. I came through your dream while you were still sleeping. I had to know where you are. I needed to know you were safe.” His grip on her chin tightened when she tried to shake her head again.
“No, Gabe. Look, we are in a safe house. I don’t know exactly where it’s at, but we are close to Lexington, I think. Clark brought me here. He is the Keeper’s son. This cabin…” Her words ran together as her panic reached high tide. Gabriel waited until she lost herself completely and quieted.
“I can’t get to you,” Gabriel said with slow, hushed words.
“But you’re here. We can go home. I know I messed up.” Her voice broke over the words as she cried. “Please,” she begged. “I want to go home.”
“Michaela, I’m sorry.” Gabriel’s jaw flexed like he wanted to say more.
Michaela barely saw him behind the sheet of tears. Hiccups bubbled from her clenched mouth. Reality shattered her delusion. If she were to wake up, Gabriel would be gone. All angels had the ability to draw themselves into another’s dream, but because Gabriel was a messenger angel, he was especially good at it. He was so good it didn’t feel like a dream. It felt like he was here, and if he was here then they could figure this out and go home.
But he only channeled her from Hell.
She fully realized then what Gabriel’s sentence meant. She was alone, and for the first time in eternity, they were separated. Her tears turned to gasping, silent weeping. If Gabriel was in Hell for something he hadn’t even done, she wanted to fall asleep and never wake up again, because she doubted the purpose of a life without him.
Gabriel reached for her and pulled her against his chest that felt so solid against her tear-slicked face. She wrapped her arms around him fiercely, holding him as tight as she could. The motion should have doubled her over with pain, but it seemed as if even the hurt stopped with the time. Gabriel caught her, tucking her into him like a fold of fabric.
His hands paused against her back. She held her breath. Instead of her wings, he found the thickness of bandages beneath Clark’s loose shirt she wore. He leaned back, his gaze sending prickles of heat dancing down her neck.
“Who did this to you?”
“Lucifer.”
Gabriel growled. The noise was like a whip, snapping through the air. A shudder slid down her spine.
“I deserved it, Gabe. I killed…I killed Molloch.” The words fell out. She didn’t know how she said them aloud when she could barely say them inside her own head.
His hands tightened around her arms. The muscles of his body flexed rigidly beneath her hands. In the dim light of the cabin, his eyes deepened to dark amber. The muscle along his jaw convulsed wildly. If the air had not been burdened with time, it would have been afire with his fury.
“You didn’t deserve to have this done to you, Michaela. Do you hear me?” He waited, eyes burning into hers, until she nodded mutely. “And I will make them pay for what they did to you. Do you understand?” She nodded again. “Now tell me what happened.”
“He took me to the Watchers’ cave and wouldn’t let me leave. We fought. I don’t know what happened. He was there one minute, choking me with this bottomless hate in his eyes, and the next he was dead. Gone. My wing tip had stabbed him, and I didn’t even know.”
“It was an accident, Michaela. You couldn’t have known the bones in your wings could kill an angel.”
“What?” Michaela thought she must have cotton stuffed in her ears, because Gabriel’s words barely reached her. She couldn’t arrange them in a way to make sense, but Gabriel didn’t stop to explain.
“That’s why I can’t feel you, because your wings are gone…” He stayed silent for a few moments. Finally he said, “This is better actually. The Aethere won’t be able to find you and neither will the fallen. Do you hear me, Michaela? Don’t trust the Aethere,” he said, looking back into her eyes.
But the pain in her back started like a hollow, echoing beat of her heart, distracting her. The snake she had inherited from Molloch’s darkness slipped around her spine, slithering upwards. Gabriel seemed to be shouting at her, but she didn’t hear the words. He shook her again, rattling the pain loose inside her body as time started passing again.
“Michaela, stay with me.”
“It hurts,” she moaned.
Michaela began to slip away. Gabriel was losing hold on her dream, and a bottomless, dreamless unconsciousness was tugging at her ankles, pulling her back under its still waters. The air shifted around Gabriel’s face, which was fierce and determined.
“I know, but you need to hide, okay? The Aethere are hunting you, and they won’t stop,” he said. He jerked his head in Clark’s direction. “Let the Descendant protect you.”
“Why are we hiding?” she whispered. “Why is this happening? I don’t understand,” she whimpered.
“Michaela, you have to listen to me. Stay in hiding. Don’t talk to anyone. No matter what you hear, stay away from the angels,” he said. His grip was tight on her arms, tight enough to leave new bruises. “Especially the holy angels.”
“Take me with you,” she pleaded.
“I can’t, baby,” Gabriel said, his voice tight.
“I’m so sorry,” Michaela sobbed. Her mouth was thick with mucus and tears that clogged her throat. “I should have waited. I should have never opened those gates.” Her voice broke. She clutched at Gabriel’s simple linen shirt soaked from her tears.
“Stop it,” he said firmly. He rocked her against him, holding her a moment longer. “Promise me you won’t let them find you. Promise that you won’t try to fix anything.” He waited until she nodded against his chest.
Gabriel lifted her face to his. She didn’t understand until his lips touched hers. It was a simple goodbye even though she held his mouth to hers for a moment longer. She didn’t open her eyes when he pulled away. His sigh was a cool breeze against her face. Then he left, and the dream was broken.