father to sound so passive-aggressive in her life. But then again, she was learning all sorts of new things about him.
He was a Grigori, a Watcher, keeper of the balance between the worlds of humankind, fae, angel and demon. His blood was the blood of all races carefully blended over millennia of interference from creatures just like the angels who faced him now. Her father was special.
And so, apparently, was she. Worst luck.
Not that this lot were inclined to treat her as such. No, she was just a child to them, one with questionable loyalties.
‘You are too kind.’ The angel’s voice slid like warmed honey through the air, weaving a spell of trust and reliability all around him. With his golden looks and hazel eyes, howcould he be anything else? Izzy shuddered, her skin crawling in response. Mum’s features softened and her eyes took on a dreamy look; Izzy took her hand, holding it tightly just in case. ‘David Grigori—’
‘Gregory,’ Dad interrupted. ‘And your charms don’t work on me. Or on Izzy, it would appear. Our blood, no doubt.’
Zadkiel raised his eyebrows. ‘Indeed. Remarkable blood it is too. Even if it is easily … what is the word? Corrupted.’
Venom infected the angel’s voice on that final word, but Dad didn’t flinch.
‘No. Balanced, perhaps, in perfect harmony, even. You should try it some time. Being balanced, I mean. Well, maybe we should go inside. I don’t think the neighbours will understand, do you?’
He hooked his arm around Mum and swept past Zadkiel who stared at him, his mouth hanging slightly open in shock as Dad seized all the power of the moment out of his hands.
‘Izzy?’ Dad called. ‘Be a love and open the door, will you? I don’t have my keys.’
What could she do? No snotty angel was going to make her look like a coward, especially when Dad had already faced him down. Of course Dad had his keys. What was he up to?
As she passed the angels, their eyes focused on her in unison, and a shadow passed over her, chilling her to the bone. But she didn’t hesitate, smothering the fear down deep inside her and recognising it for what it was – not her own, but something foisted on her by their very presence. Theywanted her to be afraid.
So she wouldn’t. That would show them. Somehow.
The key skittered against the lock, but eventually went into the keyhole and turned. She darted inside and disarmed the burglar alarm with trembling fingers. She took a moment, forcing her breath to be calm, and then turned around.
The garden stood empty. They were already inside the house, all five of them. Zadkiel gazed at her with his searching eyes, while the others inspected the framed photos in the hall and the collection of little china fairies Mum had arranged on the occasional table.
‘Don’t touch those,’ Izzy said. ‘They’re fragile.’
The angel looming over them glanced back at her, smiled a slow, sinister smile, and tipped one with the end of his fingertip. There was a rumble in the air, like distant thunder, and the figurine shattered, crumbling into tiny fragments.
Izzy sucked in a cry, but Zadkiel got there before her.
‘Suriel, enough! We are guests.’
The angel stepped back and bowed his head, eyes fixed on his shoes. If he was chastened or simply acting, Izzy couldn’t tell.
Suriel . She studied him closely. And Zadkiel. She’d look them up later, try and find out what the internet had to say about them. She was making a list. It seemed like a good plan.
Know your enemy.
Of course they weren’t meant to be the enemy, and Dad would tell her that they weren’t. But she knew for a fact, theydidn’t like her, and she didn’t like them.
Dad knew it too. It didn’t make for a good starting point, really.
Mum on the other hand was staring at the little pile of porcelain shards with a new and rather impressive look of murder in her eyes. She glared at Dad, who lifted his eyes to the ceiling. Whatever spell they’d used on her had worn
He was a Grigori, a Watcher, keeper of the balance between the worlds of humankind, fae, angel and demon. His blood was the blood of all races carefully blended over millennia of interference from creatures just like the angels who faced him now. Her father was special.
And so, apparently, was she. Worst luck.
Not that this lot were inclined to treat her as such. No, she was just a child to them, one with questionable loyalties.
‘You are too kind.’ The angel’s voice slid like warmed honey through the air, weaving a spell of trust and reliability all around him. With his golden looks and hazel eyes, howcould he be anything else? Izzy shuddered, her skin crawling in response. Mum’s features softened and her eyes took on a dreamy look; Izzy took her hand, holding it tightly just in case. ‘David Grigori—’
‘Gregory,’ Dad interrupted. ‘And your charms don’t work on me. Or on Izzy, it would appear. Our blood, no doubt.’
Zadkiel raised his eyebrows. ‘Indeed. Remarkable blood it is too. Even if it is easily … what is the word? Corrupted.’
Venom infected the angel’s voice on that final word, but Dad didn’t flinch.
‘No. Balanced, perhaps, in perfect harmony, even. You should try it some time. Being balanced, I mean. Well, maybe we should go inside. I don’t think the neighbours will understand, do you?’
He hooked his arm around Mum and swept past Zadkiel who stared at him, his mouth hanging slightly open in shock as Dad seized all the power of the moment out of his hands.
‘Izzy?’ Dad called. ‘Be a love and open the door, will you? I don’t have my keys.’
What could she do? No snotty angel was going to make her look like a coward, especially when Dad had already faced him down. Of course Dad had his keys. What was he up to?
As she passed the angels, their eyes focused on her in unison, and a shadow passed over her, chilling her to the bone. But she didn’t hesitate, smothering the fear down deep inside her and recognising it for what it was – not her own, but something foisted on her by their very presence. Theywanted her to be afraid.
So she wouldn’t. That would show them. Somehow.
The key skittered against the lock, but eventually went into the keyhole and turned. She darted inside and disarmed the burglar alarm with trembling fingers. She took a moment, forcing her breath to be calm, and then turned around.
The garden stood empty. They were already inside the house, all five of them. Zadkiel gazed at her with his searching eyes, while the others inspected the framed photos in the hall and the collection of little china fairies Mum had arranged on the occasional table.
‘Don’t touch those,’ Izzy said. ‘They’re fragile.’
The angel looming over them glanced back at her, smiled a slow, sinister smile, and tipped one with the end of his fingertip. There was a rumble in the air, like distant thunder, and the figurine shattered, crumbling into tiny fragments.
Izzy sucked in a cry, but Zadkiel got there before her.
‘Suriel, enough! We are guests.’
The angel stepped back and bowed his head, eyes fixed on his shoes. If he was chastened or simply acting, Izzy couldn’t tell.
Suriel . She studied him closely. And Zadkiel. She’d look them up later, try and find out what the internet had to say about them. She was making a list. It seemed like a good plan.
Know your enemy.
Of course they weren’t meant to be the enemy, and Dad would tell her that they weren’t. But she knew for a fact, theydidn’t like her, and she didn’t like them.
Dad knew it too. It didn’t make for a good starting point, really.
Mum on the other hand was staring at the little pile of porcelain shards with a new and rather impressive look of murder in her eyes. She glared at Dad, who lifted his eyes to the ceiling. Whatever spell they’d used on her had worn
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