To this, his eyes twinkled. ‘We did. We made you.’
My mouth fell open.
‘What do you know about the exile you saw that night?’ Phoenix asked, and I could see the pain ripple over his features, remembering the night at Lilith’s estate – the arrows, the death, the choices that were made that have forever changed us. ‘The one who took—’
But I cut him off, holding up my hand, not wanting to hear him say it aloud. I wasn’t ready to admit that I had let that exile steal my blood. Or that I’d always known, deep down, that it would come back to haunt me.
‘His name is Sammael,’ I said. ‘He’s behind all of this, somehow. He’s controlling the tournaments and he has Spence. Why? What do you know about it?’
The angels all shared a look and I could see they were conferring on what they would say. I wished fleetingly that I could just beat it out of them. From the corner of my eye I saw Phoenix smirk and I glared at him. ‘You are reading my mind!’
He chuckled. ‘No. I just know you.’ But then he looked back to my maker and after receiving a small nod, asked, ‘Have you ever heard of the weighing of souls?’
I shook my head and hoped Phoenix would be permitted to shed some more light on the matter. Instead, he clenched his jaw in frustration.
They aren’t letting him say any more.
‘Ask Steph,’ he said through gritted teeth, as if it was a battle just to utter the words.
And then they were gone.
Before I climbed back down into Dapper’s apartment I texted Steph with an update before remembering the hour. I hoped I hadn’t woken her, but then my phone beeped with a reply. Tossing up the idea of going out for a run, I headed into my room.
Only to find Lincoln there, standing by the window in the dark.
CHaPteR SIXteeN
‘And the angel said: “I have learnt that all men live not by care for themselves but by love.”’
Leo Tolstoy
‘We didn’t finish our conversation,’ he said.
I stayed near the entrance to the room, maintaining as much distance as possible and suddenly conscious of my daggy sweat pants and oversized black sweater that was so old and worn it had holes around the neckline. Of course, he looked … distracting, in faded jeans and a navy shirt, hanging unbuttoned and loose over a black T-shirt.
‘It’s 2 a.m.,’ I replied, as if that actually mattered. ‘And the less conversation you and I have, the better.’ I stepped aside and held the door open, hoping he hadn’t noticed the tremor in my hand.
Relief washed over me when he gave a small – conceding – nod and walked slowly towards the door. And then my stomach dropped when his arm whipped out and grabbed the edge only to slam it shut with both of us still in the room.
Standing close and breathing hard, he spoke in a low voice. ‘Am I so insignificant to you that you won’t answer a few simple questions?’
Defiantly, I walked over to where he’d stood by the window, re-creating the illusion of distance despite being acutely aware of how close we now were. How alone.
‘Ask away,’ I said, surprising myself but hoping this was the fastest way to get this conversation done with. ‘If I can answer, I will. But then we move on. We need to work out what’s going on in New Orleans and I need to stay focused on Spence.’
‘Fine. First of all, clarify for me that you are not and have not been seeing Gray?’
I shook my head and kept my eyes on the windowsill. ‘Not that it matters, but no. That’s not a possibility for me.’
‘Then why did I see the two of you walking out of some pub in Shoreditch a year ago with you in his arms while he yelled out to anyone who would listen that he was going home with you?’ he accused. ‘I saw him kiss you.’
I flinched.
Should I let him believe it? Would it be better for him? To let him hate me this way?
But I couldn’t seem to conjure the lie. Instead I sighed, leaning against the wall. ‘When I first moved to London I had no one. I was broke, surviving day to day, and I didn’t want to use Mum and Dad’s money. One night I was out hunting and I stumbled upon an exile in a hurry. I followed him to an old warehouse, where I found another three of them, and Gray hung up by his feet, barely alive. He was outnumbered and those exiles were their own special brand of sick. I could hear them talking about all the things they were going to do to him, and it was clear they’d already done a lot. The smart move would’ve been to wait them out and take them down but I could tell that Gray didn’t have long left in him and I … I recognised him from Santorini.’
I ducked into my en suite, where I ran the tap and splashed water on my face before coming back out, conscious of Lincoln’s eyes on me the entire time.