information.
“Guardian,” said Nate. “It’s different—like an angel but so low that no one even considers me to be one.” He danced on the balls of his feet nervously, his green eyes fixed on me. It was something he’d done for as long as I’d known him whenever he was waiting for something.
And now all it did was infuriate me.
I sucked in a breath to stifle the rage building. “And Grandpa’s a Graced.” The words tumbled out with a bitter aftertaste, almost as if I should have known, like I was too idiotic to figure it out myself. “That’s how he could make that sword, how you were able to—”
“Run faster than a speeding bullet,” Ria said hollowly.
Half a smile tried to escape my lips but didn’t succeed. I’d tried most of my life to educate Ria about superheroes, but she’d feigned listening. At least I’d thought she had.
I guess I’ve thought a lot of things that aren’t true.
“Yes. Sol was a Graced. The portion of essence he received from the Heavenly Host allowed him powers, weapons.” Nate nodded. “It’s the same power that he used to fight, the same power I should have used to run you as far away as I could.” His jaw was so tight I thought his teeth might crack. “And the same sliver of angelic soul is inside you.”
I shook my head, unwilling to believe it. Angels. Graced Nephilim. Every other fact Grandpa’d ever taught me rattled around in my head, but nothing prepared me for this.
“You’re like, really old then,” said Ria, a minute behind the conversation, her perplexed gaze stuck on Nate’s green eyes.
Nate nodded hesitantly, taking a step back to lure us to the Jeep, his red hair bobbing with each step.
“I’ve never met your parents,” said Ria. “Not once.”
He nodded, his jaw still tight.
“And Eve’s a—what’d you call her?”
I shook my head before he could repeat himself. “I’m not a Graced, a Patron, or whatever you—”
“You are a Graced. To not admit that is to disgrace your grandfather’s last dying act and everyone in your family before you.”
“Disgrace my—” I clenched my fists and advanced again.
Nate stood his ground.
“Wait…my family?” I stopped.
“They were Graced, Patrons—nearly every one of them—but the rest of it has to wait. Right now, I need to get you out of here.” He grabbed Ria’s hand and pulled her toward him.
“Why?” said Ria, allowing herself to be pulled.
“Because as powerful as a sacrifice is, there could be others on their way right now. The Babylonians are stronger since your grandfather stepped down, and even though they got their main target, they’ll be coming after you before morning.” He turned to me, his eyes pleading. “They want anyone connected with him dead.”
“But why?” I said, vengeance coursing through my veins like liquid nitrogen.
“Because he saved them when they tried to kill him, because they repay kindness with death, because one murder isn’t enough when you feed off revenge.” He opened Ria’s door and threw our bags into the back seat.
I clenched my jaw in the same manner he always did. “Babylonians are evil, we get it. That doesn’t mean—”
“Your mother didn’t die because of childbirth.” Nate’s voice broke.
“What?” My eyes bulged, and my throat closed.
“Having you couldn’t have killed her. It was the Babylonians—Kovac. He killed her right after you were born. Sol was always too powerful and smart for Kovac to get to him directly, so he killed her. That’s why Sol took you into hiding.”
I shook my head in disbelief. All these years, Grandpa hadn’t been mad at God for taking my mom. He’d known who’d killed her all along. He’d seen his face. No wonder he couldn’t hide his anger whenever we talked about it.
I clutched the single silver wing resting against my chest and traced my thumb from the tip to the edge of the broken blue stone where it would have attached to the other wing. It used to be a
“Guardian,” said Nate. “It’s different—like an angel but so low that no one even considers me to be one.” He danced on the balls of his feet nervously, his green eyes fixed on me. It was something he’d done for as long as I’d known him whenever he was waiting for something.
And now all it did was infuriate me.
I sucked in a breath to stifle the rage building. “And Grandpa’s a Graced.” The words tumbled out with a bitter aftertaste, almost as if I should have known, like I was too idiotic to figure it out myself. “That’s how he could make that sword, how you were able to—”
“Run faster than a speeding bullet,” Ria said hollowly.
Half a smile tried to escape my lips but didn’t succeed. I’d tried most of my life to educate Ria about superheroes, but she’d feigned listening. At least I’d thought she had.
I guess I’ve thought a lot of things that aren’t true.
“Yes. Sol was a Graced. The portion of essence he received from the Heavenly Host allowed him powers, weapons.” Nate nodded. “It’s the same power that he used to fight, the same power I should have used to run you as far away as I could.” His jaw was so tight I thought his teeth might crack. “And the same sliver of angelic soul is inside you.”
I shook my head, unwilling to believe it. Angels. Graced Nephilim. Every other fact Grandpa’d ever taught me rattled around in my head, but nothing prepared me for this.
“You’re like, really old then,” said Ria, a minute behind the conversation, her perplexed gaze stuck on Nate’s green eyes.
Nate nodded hesitantly, taking a step back to lure us to the Jeep, his red hair bobbing with each step.
“I’ve never met your parents,” said Ria. “Not once.”
He nodded, his jaw still tight.
“And Eve’s a—what’d you call her?”
I shook my head before he could repeat himself. “I’m not a Graced, a Patron, or whatever you—”
“You are a Graced. To not admit that is to disgrace your grandfather’s last dying act and everyone in your family before you.”
“Disgrace my—” I clenched my fists and advanced again.
Nate stood his ground.
“Wait…my family?” I stopped.
“They were Graced, Patrons—nearly every one of them—but the rest of it has to wait. Right now, I need to get you out of here.” He grabbed Ria’s hand and pulled her toward him.
“Why?” said Ria, allowing herself to be pulled.
“Because as powerful as a sacrifice is, there could be others on their way right now. The Babylonians are stronger since your grandfather stepped down, and even though they got their main target, they’ll be coming after you before morning.” He turned to me, his eyes pleading. “They want anyone connected with him dead.”
“But why?” I said, vengeance coursing through my veins like liquid nitrogen.
“Because he saved them when they tried to kill him, because they repay kindness with death, because one murder isn’t enough when you feed off revenge.” He opened Ria’s door and threw our bags into the back seat.
I clenched my jaw in the same manner he always did. “Babylonians are evil, we get it. That doesn’t mean—”
“Your mother didn’t die because of childbirth.” Nate’s voice broke.
“What?” My eyes bulged, and my throat closed.
“Having you couldn’t have killed her. It was the Babylonians—Kovac. He killed her right after you were born. Sol was always too powerful and smart for Kovac to get to him directly, so he killed her. That’s why Sol took you into hiding.”
I shook my head in disbelief. All these years, Grandpa hadn’t been mad at God for taking my mom. He’d known who’d killed her all along. He’d seen his face. No wonder he couldn’t hide his anger whenever we talked about it.
I clutched the single silver wing resting against my chest and traced my thumb from the tip to the edge of the broken blue stone where it would have attached to the other wing. It used to be a
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