Yeah, I still had my rules. No running, no quitting, and no believing in fairytales. And even though I had broken rule numero uno in the biggest way possible, I’d reasoned that it was a survival decision and so that made it okay. So, the rules stood.
Somewhere around 1 a.m. I had another shower and got into bed, hoping I’d run off enough energy and tension to get a few hours’ sleep. I slept less and less these days, some nights barely managing an hour. If I was lucky, I was able to negotiate three or four. Apart from the dreams I’d started to have, eerily similar to the scene I’d imagined at the warehouse earlier in the night, sleep always left me unprotected. Tonight was no different.
When sleep was almost within reach, dream-like images filled my mind. I was moving, or rather, jumping from one distorted scene to the next, as if sifting through them.
The vision suddenly halted. I was looking over a courtyard. It was evening. The courtyard was lit with small lights climbing up the trunks of the delicate trees that bordered it. In a corner sat a man. He was wearing a charcoal-coloured suit, his jacket slung over the empty chair beside him. His crisp white shirtsleeves were rolled up revealing silver wristbands and bronzed forearms. He was alone and looked like he’d had a long night. He ran his hand through his golden hair, which I noticed was fractionally shorter and darker at the roots than it used to be. I inched closer, despite my desire to move away. His hand paused and he exhaled shakily.
He looked up, right towards my line of sight, and though he had my full attention I couldn’t see into his eyes the way I so desperately wanted to.
He dropped his arm and stood up, slinging his jacket over his shoulder, and seemed to slump just a little.
‘I miss you. So damn much. So. Damn. Much,’ he whispered and then he walked out of the courtyard. Away from me.
As he had every right to do.
My eyes flew open as I breathed uncontrollably, only to find someone sitting at the end of my bed, casually throwing and catching an odd-looking ball with one hand.
I bolted upright, alarmed, my dagger already in hand, as my eyes focused on the intruder.
‘Phoenix,’ I gasped, lowering my hand. ‘Not tonight,’ I said, my voice shaking.
‘Breathe, Violet,’ he said, all too knowingly.
He gave me a moment and then started to throw and catch the ball again. ‘Why don’t you just ask me what you want to?’ he suggested, not stopping his steady rhythm with the ball.
I pushed myself up further, leaning over the edge of my bed to grab my oversized sweatshirt. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ I said, pulling it over my head. It wasn’t easy to lie to angels. They kinda know.
Doesn’t mean I’m not going to lie, of course.
He gave a small half smile and his chocolate eyes bore into mine, making me shift uncomfortably. I’d forgotten just how much those eyes could affect me. ‘Yes, is the answer. You are using your Sight when you find Lincoln. Just before sleep takes hold, a person’s mind is most vulnerable and other … parts can push forward.’
My soul, in other words.
‘What you see is real,’ he reinforced.
My stomach lurched and I struggled to maintain my composure as for a brief moment the perfect stranglehold I kept on myself was loosened by his words.
How do I fight my most defiant and deadly adversary when it is my own damned soul?
A soul that will never stop taking and punishing.
I thought of Lincoln’s whispered words. Had he known I was there tonight? All the other times? Had his words been for me? For someone else?
It’s been two years. It’s possible.
‘I told you I’d come to you if I wanted to talk,’ I said, fisting my hands in an attempt to reel myself back in.
Phoenix leaned his back against the wall and crossed his legs at the ankles. ‘Yes. But I thought you might have forgotten that conversation, since I’ve barely heard from you in two years.’
‘I haven’t.’
I had only had contact with my angel maker in the past two years, and that had been limited to a few instructions or suggestions about cities he thought I should visit. I hadn’t even seen Uri or Nox. I figured that it was because I was doing what they expected: taking out exiles.
He shrugged. ‘Well, I needed to talk with you.’
‘That’s not the deal we made.’
He’d told me it was my call. It’s not that I didn’t care for Phoenix. I did. We’d been through so much and though he’d done terrible things, he’d also done good. In the end, he’d sacrificed everything. But it was just a reminder of …
‘I know,’ he said, as if reading my thoughts. ‘And I have stayed away, but it’s hard …’ His voice dropped at the end.
I snorted. ‘Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been lurking around.’ I could sense him at times and knew he was keeping tabs on me.
He shrugged, showing no remorse.
‘Why now?’ I asked, knowing I probably didn’t want to hear his answer.