Grace and Glory (The Harbinger 3) - Page 49

But Gabriel...he was up by the rafters of the gymnasium, where the ghosts were scrambling over one another to get away from him. He flew back, in through the door he’d come out.

He retreated.

I couldn’t believe it as I dragged in deep, uneven breaths.

“Are you okay?” Dez lifted me to my feet, pulling me to his chest. “Trinity?”

I nodded as I looked to where Captain Washington stood. She still held the gun. Behind her, Teller and Jordan were struggling to their feet.

“I think I just shot an actual angel. Multiple times,” Captain Washington said hoarsely. “Does that mean I’m going to Hell?”

“The opposite,” I wheezed. “Believe it or not, it means the opposite.”

* * *

There had been no time to dwell on how close I’d come to getting captured in the aftermath.

The poor captain seemed like she was in a state of shock and finding her officers on the scoreboard didn’t help. I had no idea what Dez told her or how she was going to explain any of this to her department, the public or the families of the workers and officers. I didn’t envy her.

Or Dez.

Nicolai had showed up shortly after we’d exited the school, and the moment he saw me, he looked like he wanted to murder the Warden.

The only good thing that came from the little adventure was the shutdown of any and all work on the renovations and the discovery of Gabriel’s possible weakening. But those two things were overshadowed by the senseless loss of life. There was no reason for those workers or officers to be killed, and that was twelve sets of families and friends who would never be the same.

I’d crashed and burned the moment Dez had dropped me off back at the apartment. I knew the Wardens would be patrolling for Zayne, and would call if they spotted him, but instinct told me they wouldn’t catch one glimpse of him. I slept through the night, slipping into the kind of deep sleep where the horrors of the gymnasium couldn’t follow me. I’d slept well into early Monday afternoon, but I was still moving at the speed of a three-legged turtle when I finally dragged myself out of bed.

Getting ready took an extreme amount of time. My thoughts were consumed with everything from what happened the night before to my plan to see the Crone, and what I’d done with Zayne. Not only that, every muscle in my body was stiff as I pulled on a pair of black pants that were more leggings than they were actual pants, but came with handy back pockets. My back protested as I snatched up a sleeveless tunic that not only looked clean, but also hid the daggers strapped to my thighs. Forgoing the sneakers, I laced up a pair of thick-soled boots that had a lot of traction. I figured I was going to need it.

Then I pulled my hair back in a braid, using the time in front of the mirror to find some sort of center. Whatever progress I’d made in terms of bruises had been lost. I looked like I’d face-planted into a brick wall. A nice reddish-blue bruise covered my right cheek and the corner of my mouth. There was a small tear in my lip that hadn’t appreciated the minty toothpaste, but I supposed that was by far an improvement from looking like I face-planted into said wall from twenty stories above.

I turned my head to the side, checking out the lovely imprint of Gabriel’s fingers. Man, his last imprint had just healed—

It was then when I noticed the faint purplish bruise where my neck met my shoulder. Drawing the collar of the tunic aside, I leaned in closer to the mirror. My face flushed hot when I realized what it was.

A hickey.

“Oh, for the love of God,” I muttered as my stomach curled. I tugged the collar back in place.

I returned to the bedroom and looked around. I half expected to find Peanut floating out from the walls, but there was no sign of him. Sighing, I picked up my phone. There was a message from Dez. As expected, there’d been no sign of Zayne, but Gideon had been able to track down the dead guy we’d found in the park the other night. The one Zayne had...dispatched. Apparently he was not a good dude. Multiple accusations ending in charges dropped in court, but plenty of evidence that suggested he’d needed to be imprisoned and on multiple advisory lists.

So Zayne hadn’t lied, and as messed up as it still was, it was good news. Knowing I needed to give him a heads-up about what I planned to do tonight, I texted about how Cayman and I were going to check on a lead today.

My phone rang not even a minute after I sent the text.

Tags: Jennifer L. Armentrout The Harbinger Fantasy
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