Pulling my wings in, I flip us over and hug her tightly. “I need to tell you about my father.”
She lifts her head, her eyes scanning my face before she scrambles from my arms and sits beside me. I push myself into a sitting position. “Elias had to tell him what was going on here.”
“Okay.”
I blow out a deep breath. “You know he’s not good. He’s fallen, Viv. Thousands of years ago, there was dissension in the ranks, and it led to war.”
“Among the angels?” Her eyes dip to my chest, and she leans over and tugs my shirt from where I keep it tucked in my belt. She arches a brow as she holds out the shirt.
“Yes, among the angels,” I confirm as I slip the shirt over my head. “They were divided, some turned. The stories I’ve been told come from one side. Or I suppose, two—my father and Elias. They tell the same one, though. Mostly. They were thrown out of Heaven—many angels were—and for a while, they worked to gain their favor back, but when nothing happened, they fought. My father turned, and now leads other lesser angels in tempting humans to stray. It’s his job to turn people away from living a good and righteous life.”
“You’re not your father, Breckin.” She takes my hand when I stare at her with confusion. “You told me you were supposed to be bad. You’re not.”
“No, but I’m expected to declare my allegiance to him when I turn eighteen. I’m supposed to join him.”
“And if you don’t?”
Man, I love her strength. I hold her gaze as I admit the worst-case scenario. “He could end me.”
“End you?” Her head shakes slowly. “You mean kill you?”
“Elias says he won’t. Although he’s never shown much fatherly care, he has some feelings for me. More than likely he’ll force me, or make my life hell, until I relent.”
“I don’t understand. Can’t you just live? Have some sort of neutrality? Go to college and be with me?”
I’d like nothing more. Vivienne’s blue eyes fill with tears, and I hook her by the back of the neck and press her head to my chest. “I could try, but eventually I’ll have to pick a side. Peace won’t last forever.”
“Why are you telling me all this now?” She swipes at her wet cheeks as she draws back.
“In order to keep you safe, we have to end Sebastian. Only one thing kills a reaper. Death’s scythe, which, unless you have a direct line to him, we’re not getting our hands on.” Vivienne’s hands go to her head. “But, I learned something before I came over. If a reaper is in a host body, as our guy is, then an angel blade will do him in.”
“Where do you find an angel blade?”
My finger slides over her damp hair, taking a thick section and twisting it. “From my father.”
Ready, Set, Let’s Go
Vivienne
“So, are you ever going to talk to me about Breckin Roberts?”
My grip loosens on my curling iron, the metal coming way too close to my ear, as Mom pops her head around my bathroom door as I’m getting ready for school.
“Gosh, you scared me!” I unwrap a curl and set the iron on the counter. “What are you doing home this early?”
“I have seven months before my only child goes off to college. I figured if I wanted to spend any time with you, I’d have to come home before you left for school.”
Guilt sucker-punches me. “I’m sorry.”
She picks up the curling iron and steps behind me. Drawing a chunk of hair from my scalp, she sets about curling it, just as she did when I was younger. “You haven’t been running, you haven’t stopped by the clinic to help file. This boy must be pretty special for you to give up all of your normal activities.”
“He is,” I admit, meeting her gaze in the reflection of my bathroom mirror. “Do you need me at the medical center? I can come in.”
“Not if you’d rather hang out with Breckin, sweetie.”
See your mostly working mom or hang out with your newly found soul mate? What a choice. I fuss with the front of my hair, searching for pieces in need of the curling iron, as I carefully consider my answer.
“What if I bring him by?”
Her light brow arches. “Introducing him to the parental unit? Is he that special?”
My eyes roll as I smirk. “Mom, you know Breckin. You know his . . . Elias—”
“His Elias? Is that a term you kids are using these days that I wouldn’t understand?”
“Elias Jamison. He’s Breckin’s unofficial uncle. We ate dinner with him. He’s really nice.”
Her face changes. A thoughtful and far off look glazes over her eyes. “Yes, he is nice. And yes, I know them both, but not all that well. I’d love it if you brought Breckin by the center. I’d like to get to know the boy who’s convinced my normally rigid daughter to drop her schedule for an entire week.”
“Rigid daughter?” I scoff. She raises her brow again, a silent “Are you going to dispute it?” and I give in. “Aren’t you the one who poked at me for not having enough fun?”
“Not too much fun, Viv,” she says, and I inhale deeply at the censure in her tone.
This week has been a whirlwind. My usual “rigid” schedule, as Mom calls it, fell to the wayside. My daily running was replaced by making out with an angel. My evenings helping Mom file charts and eating dinner with her at work were replaced by dinner dates in front of a fire with Breckin. Four afternoons spent doing our homework together, and getting to know each other, on a level other than the angelic, soul mate level.
“It’s a good thing you raised me right.” I turn and pilfer the curling iron from her hands. “He’ll be here soon. Let me finish getting ready. How about we come by tonight? A Friday night date with my mom at a medical center? How could he say no?”
“Say no to a night with the Freeman girls? He couldn’t.” She slaps my butt on her way out the door.
I have so many questions. Breckin and I need to talk before Mom jumps on him and interrogates him tonight. If he agrees to go. I should have asked on the way to school, but I chickened out. I should have said something before he left me at my classroom door, but my stomach fluttered and my senses swam as he kissed my cheek.
I’ve put off letting them meet because I was worried she would see just how strong my feelings for him are. She knows me too well. Now, before they meet, I need to sort things out. Things I put off because I was too frightened of the answers. If Breckin is my soul mate, what does that mean? We’re seventeen. We’re in high school. This isn’t normal, being this attached to another when you’re not even sure of yourself.