“You don’t need to apologize to me, Lily. I understand.” He pressed his lips against her temple and then inhaled slowly. “I thought I was going to lose you. I swear my heart stopped.”
Their eyes locked as she squeezed his fingers. There was so much she wanted to say, but for the first time, she knew there would be time to say it all. And right now, as he smiled tenderly at her, she felt some of the aching in her soul ease.
“I love you,” she whispered.
His eyes drifted shut, and when they reopened, they were intense and brilliant. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that and not run away from me afterward.”
Lily did something she thought she’d never do again. She smiled, although it ached to do so. “Eight years, give or take an attempted stabbing?”
He laughed. “Sounds about right. I’ve never doubted your love, Lily. It has redeemed me in a way nothing else could.”
“How so?” she asked.
“You’ve made me a better man,” he said simply.
Her heart swelled in her chest, and there was a flutter deep in her stomach. Like Julian had said the night in Rock Creek Park, things weren’t going to be easy for them. But as he lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers carefully, she knew he was worth it—they were worth it.
…
Michael eased himself down on the bed, unscrewing the lid to the balm that smelled of peppermint and a dozen mystery herbs. Whatever the hell it was, it worked on all his previous aches and bruises.
He didn’t have much time to dwell on what had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Adrian had left him only a few minutes ago, and now Nathaniel stood at his door. He threw his shirt to the side, glancing up long enough to acknowledge the elder Nephilim’s presence. “Have you heard from Lily?”
Nathaniel leaned against the door. “No.”
He spread the balm over his bruised chest, wincing as it burned. “Will he…fix her?”
“I believe Julian will do anything to help her,” replied Nathaniel. “I don’t like what he is or what their relationship means, but I know Julian will take care of her.”
Michael set the jar aside. “You seem to know Julian more than you’ve let on.”
A corner of Nathaniel’s mouth tipped up. “I was one of the first Nephilim ever born. Back when we were considered abominations and acted as such.”
“You’re a first-generation Nephilim?”
He nodded. “Someone has been doing their research. Julian was still an angel then. He was sent here along with the first wave of angels to eradicate the Nephilim children. I was a baby. Somehow Julian couldn’t raise his hand against a defenseless child. His act of disobedience led to his fall.” He ran a weary hand over his forehead. “It doesn’t change what he is, but…”
Michael wasn’t sure what to make of that, so he remained silent as Nathaniel pulled himself away from the door. “You haven’t asked what you are, Michael.”
“I’m trying not to think about that, what I felt when the light came from me. It didn’t hurt…but it felt like lightning.” He paused and considered, confusing himself. “It felt right.”
“Your name was never in the Book because your father wasn’t a fallen angel.”
He stared at him for a moment. “What? Wait.” It struck him then. “No shit.”
“I suspected as much when your name never appeared. A first-generation Nephilim never does. And then with the Fallen and the minions never finding you until the night in the alley, I knew you had to have been protected by a celestial shield.” Nathaniel folded his arms. “All first-generation Nephilim are because of their powers.”
His laugh came out short and harsh. “Celestial shield?”
Nathaniel nodded. “You can imagine what would happen if the Fallen were able to capture you. And it looks like Luke was working with Asmodeus. I’m not sure if Luke suspected what you were, but I know Asmodeus did. He sent Baal to retrieve you.”
Michael’s head was spinning. “What…what happened back there with the fire and the sword?”
“Your father is an angel—one that has not fallen. Contrary to what many believe and what is written, lying with a woman does not always result in an angel losing its grace. Sometimes the act is a calculated decision, as it was in your case. Like a business decision to tip the scales in one direction or another,” Nathaniel explained. “You called upon the Sword of Michael—of divine justice—which means I now know who your father is, as does the Fallen.”
The irony didn’t pass him by. He stared at Nathaniel, wanting to laugh and punch something. “My father is the Archangel Michael?”
“Yes,” he confirmed.
Now he couldn’t even laugh at that. “This is…fucking insane.” Michael took a deep breath. There were too many questions, but one needed answered more than anything else. “Do you know who killed my mother? Was it the Fallen?”
“I don’t know. If it was, they would’ve suspected what you are and wouldn’t have needed to go through humans or Luke to get to you.” Nathaniel closed his eyes, and Michael could see the weight settling on his shoulders. “What Luke has done is inconceivable. The Sanctuary will suffer from his actions for years to come.”
Michael didn’t doubt that. All the young Nephilim Luke had sold out would eventually turn minion and corrupt more souls. And he wasn’t stupid. Michael knew why Asmodeus was after him. The kind of power he felt, if only briefly, would tip the ongoing battle one way or another. There would be no going back to the life he had before Lily had coldcocked him in the alley in Anacostia.
Nathaniel left after that. It was much later before Michael even moved. Falling onto his back, he stared at the ceiling. It was a long time before he could set his mind at ease and find any sort of rest.
…
The shock of Luke’s death had imposed a layer of silence throughout the halls of the Sanctuary. None of the Nephilim spoke, and not even the smallest child laughed. The sorrow and grief had saturated every nook and cranny within the organization.
Nathaniel had insisted the truth surrounding Luke’s death and the events that had led up to it be kept secret. He believed that all of his years of duty and loyalty could not be forgotten, that his reputation alone had contributed to the success of the Sanctuary, and the truth could ultimately lead to its failure.
Torn between wanting to hate Luke and somehow forgive him, Lily had agreed. Only the circle and Michael knew that Luke had turned and the devastating deeds he had committed.
Strangely, once the shock wore off and the construed events of the battle started to drift through the halls, Julian’s involvement hadn’t been left out. Word quickly spread that a Fallen had fought side by side with the Nephilim, saving Lily’s life. No one really knew what to think of that or what it meant. All they knew was that act signaled a great change was coming; for the better or worse was yet unseen.
Lily wasn’t sure where any of this left Michael. Nathaniel insisted he needed additional training, and once Lily was up to par, she was to resume his lessons. The Sword of Michael bit was astonishing—and even a little frightening. The kind of power he had inside him could be catastrophic in the wrong hands. But no one was really talking about Michael and what he meant for the future of the Sanctuary. Nor was anyone speaking of Asmodeus and what he would try next to get his hands on Michael. Not yet. For today was a day of mourning.
The memorial service for Luke had been held three days after his death and two days after Lily’s return to the Sanctuary. All the Nephilim and humans who worked at the Sanctuary attended the service. Luke had somehow touched them all. He had been that important.
And even though Lily couldn’t figure out how to really come to grips with his betrayal, she knew his memory needed to serve a purpose.
Held deep within Rock Creek Park, the memorial service was assembled with the help of local law enforcement and government officials—those who were aware of what the Sanctuary truly was. The more heavily wooded section of the grounds had been blocked off to the public. Not even park rangers were allowed to go within seeing distance.
There the group of humans and half angels gathered together to remember Luke. Adrian stood behind
