Lincoln pauses for a moment before giving me the barest of nods. “Absolutely.” And with that, my guy and I are working the same angle. Awesome.
Dad and I still aren’t aligned, though. A manic gleam dances in his eyes, which is honestly creeping me out a little.
“So,” says my father. “You’re both certain that the throne is the only thing that Aldred wants? What if the Earl of Acca has other plans as well, like taking over all the after-realms with Armageddon at his side?”
I fix Dad with my best and most serious look. “Dad, I’m absolutely, positively, and one hundred percent certain that the only thing Aldred gives a single crap about is the throne of Antrum.” Which is true. Sort-of.
Here’s what I don’t say. Yes, Aldred would be happy with the throne of Antrum. But Armageddon? No, no, a thousand times, no. The King of Hell wants more than the chance to kill Lincoln, me, and our families. In fact, Armageddon’s been pretty consistent that he’d like to take over all the after-realms, starting with Purgatory. Yet after being imprisoned by the King of Hell for twenty years, Dad has a tendency to go off the deep-end when it comes to this topic. It’s best if I help my father focus on the little disasters here. You know, like us getting murdered in our sleep by the King of Hell.
Dad’s chest keeps heaving in breaths. “Well, if you’re certain that’s the main threat.”
“We’re positive.” Lincoln is all Mr. Regal again, and my father visibly calms. Once more, my guy works the prince vibe like a pro.
“Forget war,” I say. “What we need is your help with getting into the Wheeler Institute.”
My father shakes out his shoulders. I can almost see his thinking-brain start to work again. “You shall have my full support, children.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
Lincoln rubs his palms in a gesture that says “let’s get back to it.” “So, did you find out anything else about the Wheeler Institute?”
“I did. It seems to be a secluded, cult-like operation. A high school for girls only. The locals also say the place is haunted.”
Haunted? That’s new. “So, what’s really going on in there?” I ask. “Are they having class, preparing the students for virgin sacrifice or what?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know that yet. That was all the intelligence I could gather on short notice.”
“Really?” I ask. “You’re an archangel.”
Dad sets his hands on his hips. “About that. We need to talk.”
Now, I haven’t known my father for very long, but I know a lecture when I hear one coming. “What did I do?”
“It’s not what you did,” says my father. “It’s what you know. Going to school in Purgatory under the ghouls. They didn’t exactly explain how things work with angels and humans.”
“You can say that again.” Unless it involved bowing, scraping, or preparing worm soufflé, the ghoul teachers in my high school had a very limited lesson span.
“On Earth, the Almighty severely limits what I can see or do when it relates to humans. I can’t witness much of what goes on, and I definitely cannot interfere with anything that would limit a human’s free will. Even showing up in my archangel form would change things immensely. Imagine if mortals all knew we existed for certain?”
I nod slowly. Although I spend my days moving human souls around, I haven’t really thought about life on Earth beyond the Human Channel on Purgatory TV. For mortals, seeing my archangel father even once would change everything. “That makes sense.”
“You and Lincoln are part human. The moment you step foot on Earth, I can do very little to help you.” His mouth thins to a worried line. “In fact, I’ve already broken a number of rules just by giving you sanctuary.”
My eyes almost bug out of my head. “What do you mean?”
“By thrax law, you and Lincoln should be in prison right now. Antrum is on Earth. You two are part human. I should not interfere with your laws. Technically, protecting you here oversteps my bounds.”
The thought of getting my father in trouble makes me ill. “We can leave.”
“And when you do, you’ll be tracked by everyone in the after-realms, including the Earl of Acca. If you’re going to investigate the Wheeler Institute, then everyone must think you’re somewhere else. Officially, you’re staying here and meditating.”
“But we can contact you, right?” Even if I can’t reach out to Mom or Walker, I’d assumed that Dad would be part of this whole thing.
“I’ll help you infiltrate the school. That’s as far as I can go, though. Please, Myla. I can’t emphasize this too severely. Offering you both sanctuary is pushing things far enough in terms meddling with human affairs. Once you go to the Wheeler Institute, no one can know where you really are. That means no messages, no contact with anyone until you leave Earth. Even me.” He shakes his head. “Especially me. Understand?”
“You have my word,” says Lincoln.