Iniquity (The Premonition, #5)(81)

For a moment I tink dat I’m already dreamin’, but den she turns her head and faces me, saying, “So, dis is a crap room ye’re livin’ in.”

A bark of laughter peels from me as da bed shakes wi’ me mirth at her attempt ta sound like a fella. “’Tis, Genevieve. Now do ye see da lengths I will go ta in order ta protect ye?”

“Is that why you chose this place?” She gazes around. Her eyes linger on da vial of her blood on da bedside table.

Me voice is gentle as I say, “It’s where ye’re from, is it na?”

“It is, but as it turns out, I’m from a lot of places.”

“Yer guardian angel was right about dis place. ’Tis a foin city in which ta hide from angels. Dey do na seem ta like it here.”

Her tragic sadness dat so attracts me ta her is in her eyes when she turns ta look at me. I suck in me breath, wanting ta be da one ta save her from her sorrow. “I’m coming to pay you a visit. I should be here in a few hours.”

“Is dat so?”

“’Tis,” she replies, trying to hide her sorrow in humor.

“Ta whah do I owe da honor?” I have ta catch me breath and resist da impulse ta try ta reach for her across da bed. She’s in phantom form.

“We need to parley. You have something I need.”

“Whah have I dat ye need?”

“I’ll tell you when I arrive.”

“A hint, perhaps?” I wheedle.

“I don’t think so.”

“Why na?”

“You always want something in return. You rarely give me anything I really want without my having to bargain for it.”

“Dat’s jus good business.”

“This is more than business.”

“I know. ’Tis flesh, bone, and soul. Ye’re welcome ta whahever I have ta give. I’ve information ta impart ta ye as well.”

She looks skeptical. “A little hint?” she asks. Her eyes are so dangerous. Dey make me want ta open me veins ta her—ta bleed for her.

“Sheol is a rising tide dat is flooding our shores wi’ unwanted guests. Evil souls are inhabiting da earth in unprecedented numbers. Da less dan divine craiturs of dis world are choosing deir sides. We’re negotiating wi’ da trolls. Dey can be swayed ta our side.”

“We have to rise above the flood soon, Brenn. What are you doing to manage the tide?”

“Me magic is na holding against Sheol—even wi’ Finn and da other fellas’ help. Da ground dere shakes wi’ fury. All is at stake now. I need me queen by me side when worlds collide.”

“Fate calls,” she murmurs.

“Dere is someting else.”

“What?”

“Da fact dat ye saw Atwater troubles me. He can na be trusted. Whahever deal ye make wi’ him, he’ll fail ye.”

“He wants me to join your army—to lead it by your side. He acts as if he has made a promise to you—that he owes you something. He believes we cannot prevail without the Gancanagh in this fight.”

I blink. I was na expecting dat. “He leads well wi’ little lies. Like a blind man, I have followed him before. I would na have ye make da same mistakes as me.”

“Maybe he’s been playing a larger game than either of us realizes, Brennus.”

“Dat’s da problem wi’ Heaven. Ta dem, dis is all a game, Genevieve.”

“It’s a fragile thing—this life.”

“’Tis even more precarious in undeath,” I say wi’ a quirk of me eyebrow.

“Get some sleep, Brenn. You look tired.” She reaches a glowing hand out ta me, touching me cheek. I feel da heat of her soul in da hollowness of me body. It eases da ache in me for a moment. “I will see you soon.”

Her clone rises from me bed and travels tru da wall, out onta da city street. Shadows creep in on me wi’out her light ta keep dem at bay, and I’m forced to obey whahever spell ’twas dat she placed upon me. I close me eyes and I drift off ta sleep, dreaming of her.





EVIE


I don’t return my consciousness to my body after leaving Brennus. Instead I think of a golden-haired Seraph with one eye the color of sky and the other the color of clover. My clone moves through the night, retracing the path I’d just taken. I’m a blowing feather, floating downward, into the house that I left a short time ago—Xavier’s house.

I go through it, passing from room to room, each one more destroyed than the last. My light illuminates the night as I float back outside, onto the rooftop patio. I find Xavier, his shoulders rounded as he grips the railing overlooking the water. His hands have bent the metal. Snow falls around us. He’s shirtless, his crimson-colored wings shifting in the frigid air. He must be cold.

“You should go inside. It’s freezing out here.”

He whips around, facing me. The savage pain etched upon his face is almost more than I can bear. “Where are you?”

“Not far from here.”

“Show me where you are and I will come get you.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Please go inside,” I beg. I hate seeing him like this. He’s an open wound.

He takes a few steps nearer to the image of me. “Not until you tell me where you are.” His warm breath clashes with cold night, causing white wispy vapor to curl away from him.