Because he always liked it long.
I shut down my runaway thoughts and refocused by planning how to spend the flight. The first half I decided to dedicate to drilling Onyx for every last detail he had about Spence’s mission and whereabouts. Mostly, I wanted to know more about his partner, Chloe. We’d only met that one time. Even Spence hadn’t known where I was living. Not because I didn’t trust him to keep it a secret, but because I didn’t want him to carry those kinds of secrets for me. It was hard enough asking it of Steph.
Keeping it from Griffin and Dapper, who I knew had been hurt by my leaving the city without explaining myself, was one thing but Lincoln … he was one of Spence’s best friends.
Steph and I never spoke about Lincoln. She knew I couldn’t. But I knew that after I’d left he had been hard on her on the few occasions he’d seen her. It had reached the point where Salvatore had had to step in. Words had been exchanged. With fists.
I couldn’t bear to let the same thing happen between Lincoln and Spence. It wouldn’t be fair. Lincoln deserved to know that Spence could always be honest with him.
The one time we’d managed to meet, Steph had taken care of everything to coincide with one of Spence and Chloe’s Academy assignments in Prague. We’d had lunch at a hidden-away restaurant in Old Town and I’d been intrigued to finally meet Spence’s partner. It became obvious that Chloe was daunted by the world she was now a part of, but I could understand that. She’d seemed strong in her own way and happy to follow Spence’s lead. I could tell instantly that Spence was protective of her in that way that Grigori partners are – on a platonic yet deep and uncompromising level.
The one at which Lincoln and I had epically failed to remain.
Chloe had watched me cautiously and with fascination. I had wondered fleetingly if she was jealous of the obvious connection Spence and I shared, which in many ways reflected a Grigori partnership, but I quickly discovered she was simply too kind of heart to be that negative.
All in all, I’d liked her. And she had respected my privacy, not asking about all the rumours: that I am the only Grigori made by a Sole angel; that my abilities are more angelic than Grigori; that I can walk with angels. Hell, I’d even been told by a Rogue – who had no idea he was talking to the very subject of his gossip – that I was the second coming, and that I would be the great weapon of Hell. Even I still didn’t know what I was. But he’d been right to call me a weapon. That much I knew was true.
Onyx, though strangely uncomfortable when it came to the subject of Chloe, wasn’t able to shed much more light on the matter, other than confirming what Spence had implied in his letter.
‘She sees the good in everyone,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Even exiles. Spence worries that she isn’t cut out for this life.’
The second part of the flight was spent with my eyes closed, rebuilding my walls and locking down all my emotions in the place that no one can reach.
Gray’s talents had been my saving grace. Rogues tended to work with their defences at a higher level than the Academy Grigori. They had to; most Rogues were partnerless, whether by circumstance or choice. They didn’t have someone on constant standby to supercharge their naturally enhanced healing abilities. But when Gray was dumped on the island of Santorini a few years back – another story he’d refused to share – and was forced to survive alongside the very powerful exile Irin and his Nephlim children, he’d taken Rogue strength to new heights.
He’d taught himself how to completely shut down the senses and become undetectable to exiles. It wasn’t something Academy Grigori had ever thought to do, since our outward senses alerted us to exile presence as well. But thanks to Gray, I had learned the skill and discovered its many benefits. It helped keep me hidden, but it also worked like a glue of sorts, holding me together when the coldness tried to tear me apart from the inside.
In my efforts to meditate, I drifted off to sleep.
Trumpets sounded. The thunder of hooves rampaged. Thousands of horses – all white – charged towards the terrifying dragon.
The scaled beast’s roar was deafening, its spiked wings spanning football fields. It was ferocious and intent on causing maximum devastation.
As the dragon carved its way through legions of warriors mounted on valiant stallions, it cleared a path for the angel who commanded them all. The power the beast exuded was tremendous, thickening the air and making my lungs constrict. Warriors fell. Horses staggered to their knees and rolled. Blood spilled and cries of agony rippled through the almost tangible atmosphere.
I strained to see, my vision darting back and forth between the angel and the dragon. Just as the way cleared, I gasped.