“Because you love my sister,” he said.
Cam reached for Bruce’s hand, realizing that he was holding it as much for his own sake as for the boy’s. It struck him that he had not seen a friendly face since he’d entered Lilith’s Hell. He’d been toiling nonstop, with no sign that he was making any progress and no one to tell him to keep going. He squeezed the boy’s hand gratefully.
“I do love her,” he said over the soft beeps of the machines Bruce was hooked up to. “I love her more than anything, anywhere, in this world and beyond.”
“Easy, that’s my sister you’re talking about.” Bruce smiled weakly. For a moment, his breath halted. Cam was about to call for a nurse when the boy’s chest eased into a steady rhythm. “Just kidding. Hey, Cam?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think I’ll be around long enough to feel that way about someone someday?”
Cam had to look away, because he couldn’t lie to Bruce and say that yes, he would someday love a girl as deeply as Cam loved Lilith. In another week and a half, there would be nothing left of this world. Regardless of what Lilith chose and how Cam and Lucifer’s deal played out, Bruce and all the other sad souls in Crossroads would likely be recycled for future punishments.
Still, Cam wished there were a way to give the boy some comfort in the little time he had left. He felt a lump forming in his throat and his wings burning at the base of his shoulders. An idea formed in his mind. It was risky, but then so was Cam.
He glanced at the kid, who was looking out the window and seemed to be in a faraway place. He likely had only minutes before a nurse came in or Lilith and her mother woke up.
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, tilted his head toward the ceiling, and unfurled his wings. Usually there was a delicious abandon to throwing out his wings, but this time Cam was careful not to let them strike any of the medical equipment keeping Bruce stable.
When Cam opened his eyes, he saw that his wings filled the small curtained space and made the walls shimmer with golden light. Bruce was gazing at him with great reverence and only a little fear. An angel’s glory was the most incredible sight a mortal could see—and this time Cam knew it was especially remarkable because, aside from Lilith, Bruce hadn’t seen much beauty in his brief life.
“Any questions?” Cam asked. It was only fair to give the kid a moment to try to catch up.
Ever so slightly, the boy shook his head, but he didn’t scream, and he didn’t burst into flames. It helped that Bruce was young, his heart and mind still open to the possibility of angels. This was all Cam had hoped for. Now he could proceed.
He ran his hands along the inside of his wings, surprised to feel that the new white fibers felt different to the touch than the golden ones. They were thicker, sturdier, and, Cam realized, perfect for what he had in mind.
He grimaced as he plucked a single filament from his wings. In his hand it became a huge white feather, a foot long and as soft as a kiss. It was called a pennon. At the base of the feather, at the end of its pointed quill, was a single drop of iridescent blood. It was impossible to say what color the blood was, for it was every color all at once.
“Hold this,” he said to Bruce, handing him the feather with the quill pointing up.
“Wow,” Bruce whispered, running his fingers along the soft white edges as Cam moved to the IV dripping medicine into Bruce. He unscrewed the tube at the bottom of the bag, then reached to take the pennon back from Bruce. He dipped its quill into the IV and watched the clear bag of liquid swirl with a trillion colors for a moment before the angelic blood dispersed into it. Cam reattached the IV and handed the feather back to Bruce. He didn’t need it anymore.
“Did you just save my life?” Bruce asked, tucking the feather under his pillow.
“For today,” Cam said, trying to sound brighter than he felt. He folded his wings into themselves and out of sight.
“Thanks.”
“Our secret?”
“Sure,” Bruce said, and Cam started for the door. “Hey, Cam,” the boy called softly when Cam was just about to turn into the hallway.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t tell her I said this,” the boy whispered, “but you should tell Lilith that you love her.”
“Oh, yeah?” Cam said. “Why is that?”
“Because,” Bruce said, “I think she loves you, too.”
Nine Days
Revenge met in the band room the next morning before school.
When Lilith walked in, bearing photocopies of her latest song, “Flying Upside Down,” Jean was trying out some crazy new riffs on the synthesizer while Luis tore through a supersized sack of Doritos. He held out the bag for Lilith and rattled the chips inside.
“I usually try to hold off on my artificial-cheese fix until at least nine a.m.,” she said, waving him off.