chapter 25
ROSS HADN’T KNOWN ANYTHING ABOUT THE NIX, AND he was pretty damned freaked out to learn she’d been under his nose—and in his bed—for several days. It was enough to make a guy swear off nymphs for good…or at least for a few weeks. The Luther Ross Poltergeist School for Nymphs was closing its doors until the Nix was captured, and in the meantime, its headmaster was packing his bags. As for those poltergeist lessons, the subject never came up in front of Kristof…thankfully.
“Trsiel has been here,” the middle Fate said as soon as we appeared. “He has some concerns about Kristof’s involvement.”
“And didn’t waste any time voicing them,” Kristof muttered.
“We believe he may have a point.” She lifted a hand against Kris’s protest. “Hear us out. This Nix, having now met Eve, clearly feels this is personal, and we fear she may lash out at Eve by hurting someone close—”
My gut went cold. “Savannah. Oh, my God.”
Kristof’s head shot up, eyes wide with alarm. The Fate lifted both hands this time.
“To go after Savannah, the Nix would need to know who you are, and what is important to you. She’s a demi-demon. She has no patience for that—not when she’s already found one way to hurt you.”
I saw the Nix whipping Kristof toward that open portal, felt my gut go cold again. One look my way at that moment, and she’d know exactly how to get to me.
“While I appreciate your concern, ladies,” Kristof murmured. “I believe that, ultimately, the risk is mine to accept or decline.”
The oldest Fate shot in. “Is it?”
Kris snuck a glance my way. “Well, of course Eve can voice her opinion, but if I feel I can help, I will.”
“If that Nix opens another portal and tries to toss you into it, I’m sure Eve will say, ‘That was his decision,’ and let you go while she captures the Nix.”
Kristof looked at me again. “Very well. I’ll step aside. But if you need me, Eve—”
Before he could finish, the Searchers whisked him away.
It turned out that the Fates didn’t know a way for me to contain the Nix, so I used Trsiel’s code and teleported into a room that looked as if it had been carved out of pearl, with iridescent walls that glimmered with streaks of pink and blue. The wall looked as hard and solid as pearl, but felt like loosely wadded silk. As I stepped back, my feet sank into what felt like plush carpet, yet the floor appeared to be made of the same material as the walls. From somewhere came the softest strain of music, almost an undercurrent of the air itself.
Typical angel quarters? Hardly the way I’d want to spend my afterlife. But places like these would be for full-bloods like Trsiel. I wondered where the ascendeds lived. In the ghost world? Keeping their angelic identities a secret? Another of a million questions I’d need to ask…if Trsiel was right that the Fates intended to offer me angel-hood.
“Where the hell did you send me?” I muttered. “A celestial waiting room? Damned angels—”
A discreet cough. I turned to see a man and a woman standing half-turned toward me, as if I’d interrupted their conversation.
He was tall and dark-skinned, and she was also tall, with strawberry blond hair. Neither would have been out of place on the cover of any fashion magazine…if they wore something more fashionable. But both wore garments of a diaphanous fabric the same luminous pearl white as the walls. The woman wore a toga that left one shoulder bare, while the man was dressed in a loose-fitting shirt and billowing pants. I’ve heard of people looking so healthy they glowed, but these two literally did; their skin gave off an unearthly shimmer.
“Eve,” the woman said, her beautiful voice leaving no doubt that she was a full-blooded angel.
“Uh, yes,” I said, suddenly flustered. “I’m looking—”
“For Trsiel,” the man said. “He gave you the code to come here?”
When I nodded, the two exchanged a look that I was sure was more than a look. They were speaking to each other telepathically, like the wraith-clerks did. Did full-blooded angels naturally communicate by telepathy? I’d never considered that with Trsiel, but then, except for the voice and picture-perfect beauty, he and these two seemed like members of different species.
“Is Trsiel…around?” I asked. “He was supposed to meet me here but—”
“But he is late.”
The woman gave the barest shake of her head, as if this wasn’t surprising. She looked at the man and they communicated something. The man looked over at me.
“I will find him,” he said.
“Find who?” Trsiel swung through the doorway, still dressed in the cargo pants and jersey he’d been wearing earlier.
“We need to get you a watch,” I said.
He grinned, eyes glinting. “At least this time you aren’t dueling anyone.” He saw the others. Dismay flickered across his face, but he forced it back with another jaunty smile. “Have you guys been introduced?”
“No, we guys have not,” the woman said.
“Eve, this is Shekinah.” He gestured at the woman, then nodded at the man. “And Balthial. Eve is—”
“We are well aware of who Eve is and what she is doing,” Shekinah said, voice rippling with annoyance. “We are also aware, Trsiel, that you have been having some…difficulty helping her with that task.”
“Difficulty?” Trsiel’s jaw twitched. “I haven’t had any—”
“Eve found the Nix and you failed to capture her. You were late, and—”
“He wasn’t late,” I cut in. “The Nix took off as soon as I summoned him.”
As soon as I said this I wished I hadn’t. Shekinah shook her head as if to say, “What’s the universe coming to, a ghost defending an angel?” When her gaze met Trsiel’s, I’m sure that’s pretty much what she did say to him, telepathically.
“We should be going,” I said. “We have a lot to do—”
“Of course you do,” Balthial said. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Eve, and I am looking forward to renewing the acquaintance when you ascend.”
“Yes,” Shekinah said. “It was indeed a pleasure. And if you require any assistance with this quest, any assistance you might not be currently receiving, you may contact either Balthial or myself through the Fates.”
At that, Trsiel’s jaw set so hard I feared he’d start snapping teeth. The other angels nodded a farewell, as serene and composed as ever, and faded away.
“What the hell is her problem?” I muttered when they were gone.
Trsiel’s jaw relaxed into a crooked smile. “Shekinah and I have some…philosophical differences. Balthial and I do, too, but he’s better at hiding it.”
“Seems like there’s more than philosophical differences between you and them.”
Trsiel tensed. His gaze studied mine, as if trying to interpret my meaning. Then he relaxed again and reached for my hand.
“Let’s go see Amanda Sullivan,” he said. “I’ll explain on the way.”
“So the Nix has resurfaced in the living world?”
He nodded. I laid my hand in his, and he teleported us there.