“I got it, thanks.” I take the bowl from her hands, raise it to my mouth and swallow. The liquid’s warm and tasty.
“Guess what?” Cissy beams. “I’m going to Verus’s summit too. I’ll be your Mom’s Junior Senator.”
“That’s great. You wanted diplomatic service.”
Zeke sets his palm on Cissy’s shoulder. “My parents are excited to keep her around.” He kisses the top of her head. “And so am I.”
Strange voices sound from the living room. My face crinkles. I’m not really up for meeting any strangers right now. “Who’s that?”
Zeke and Cissy share a pointed look.
“We should get going.” Cissy pulls the empty soup bowl from my hands. I must have been hungry; I don’t remember finishing it.
My friends make their goodbyes and step out the door, careful to close it behind them. The voices grow louder.
I force myself onto my feet, stumble over to the door, and open it a crack. Mom stands in the living room in a red dress, talking to tall man in a gray suit. I can’t see his face. My hazy head tries to place the outline of his body. It’s familiar somehow.
Mom laughs, her chocolate eyes shimmer. An aura of confidence and power surrounds her. I can’t remember the last time I saw her look so lovely and alive. Happiness makes me a little lightheaded. I lean against the doorframe for support.
The man wraps his arms around Mom’s shoulders, pulling her into a long kiss.
Now I remember where I’ve seen that guy. It’s Xavier.
Mom breaks the kiss, giggles, and rubs her knuckle against my father’s belly. I’m totally grinning from ear to ear. Mom spies me in the doorway.
“Myla, what are you doing up?”
I reposition my weight against the doorframe. “I heard voices.”
Xavier spins around to face me. “Hello, Myla.” His turquoise eyes sparkle. He’s now clean-shaven, so he looks more like the man from my dreamscapes: short brown hair, muscular frame, square jaw, and high cheekbones. Time with Armageddon left its mark: his cocoa-colored skin hangs as loose on his bones, as does his suit.
My father takes a few tentative steps toward me. “It’s good to see you awake.”
I smile. “It’s good to see you, period.”
He shakes his head. “I’m still not sure you’re real.” He takes another tiny step forward.
I scope out the space between us. At this rate, we’ll be at it all day. I stagger over to him and wrap my arms about his neck. “I’m here, I’m real, and I love you.”
Xavier folds his arms around my shoulders. “My girl. My beautiful girl.”
My knees get gooey. Walking around wasn’t my best idea.
“Let me get you back to bed.” Xavier props me against his side, leading me past the couch and back into my room.
Mom follows us up to the doorway, and then she pauses. “I’ll give you two some time.” She closes my door with a soft click.
Xavier helps me onto the mattress and tucks the covers under my chin like I’m two years old. It’s sweet. He drags a rusted chair beside the bed, sits down and adjusts the too-loose collar of his crisp white shirt. His voice cracks as he speaks. “Thank you for saving me.”
“Any time.” My heart thuds so hard, I’m almost surprised it doesn’t break out of my rib cage. My father is here! My real, non-ghoul, totally awesome archangel father. I have so much to tell him, even more to ask him. Where do I start?
He reaches toward my face, freezes, and drops his hand.
I grin. “You’re still having issues with the whole ‘is she real’ thing, am I right?”
He nods, tears welling in his blue eyes.
I take his palm and press it against my cheek. It’s calloused but warm. Suddenly I know exactly where to start: the number one interest we share. “Name a demon, any demon.”
“What?”
“You name the demon and I’ll tell you how to defeat it.” This is going to be so much fun, I can’t stand it.
He inhales a shaky breath. “Limus.”
I roll my eyes. “Please! Fire, end of story.” I push his hand back at him and grin.
He laughs and cries a bit at the same time. “Okay, how about Papilio?”
“Now, that’s a challenge.” We launch into a long discussion of demon fighting, which is incredibly satisfying on multiple levels. Dad keeps his own set of demon notebooks, which he promises to show me. So. Cool.
The light in my window becomes darker. My eyelids grow heavy. I want to say goodbye, but can only manage a ‘hmm’ sound as I fall asleep. My dreams take me to a small clapboard house with an emerald-green yard. Above my head, the sky’s a sheet of white light. I sit on the front porch in a rocking chair, smiling as I slowly sway to and fro. Everything is peaceful and lovely.
I awaken to the sound of whispers. Mom and Walker stand by my bed. By the light from my window, I figure it must be late in the day.
My face brightens. “Hey, cuz! Good to see you. Are you feeling okay?”
Walker bows slightly. “Fully recovered, thank you for asking. And you?”
“Better.” I reach up and grab Mom’s hand. “How long have I been out this time?”