Grace and Glory (The Harbinger 3) - Page 70

My lips parted.

“This was not what I expected,” Zayne murmured.

“I don’t think anyone would expect this.”

Cayman whipped upright, the movement smooth and sinuous, popping a chip into his mouth.

The demon could dance.

I stepped out of the elevator, unsure if we should interrupt him or not. He seemed to be having so much fun as he danced backward—

He spun toward us. A high-pitched shriek erupted from him, causing me to jump. The bag of chips slipped from his fingers and slices of deep-fried potatoes scattered across the floor.

“I wish we’d had the foresight to record this,” Zayne commented.

I smirked.

“Oh, man.” Cayman reached into his pocket and the sound of music ceased. Slowly, he tugged his earbuds out as he stared at Zayne. “Should I be running for my life right now?”

“Instead of dancing for your life?” I asked.

“This is not the time for jokes,” the demon replied.

“But I’ve got jokes for days.”

Cayman ignored me and lowered his voice as if Zayne couldn’t hear him. “I really do not want to have a repeat of Saturday night.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Zayne offered. “I wasn’t quite myself.”

“No shit,” Cayman whispered. “You don’t feel the uncontrollable urge to hunt me down and make me scream like a small child?”

Zayne bent down, picking up the fallen chips. “I don’t feel like doing that or hearing you scream again.” Glancing at the kitchen, he did a double take as he got a load of the mess. “On second thought...”

I bit down on the inside of my cheek.

“I’ll clean it all up.” Cayman lifted his hands. “Even the mess Trinity left out.”

My eyes narrowed on the demon.

He winked at me before turning his attention back to Zayne. “Damn, angel boy, look at how far you’ve fallen. Literally.” He sounded like he’d just paid Zayne one of the biggest compliments. “Glad you’re back.”

“Thanks,” Zayne replied. “I think.”

“I was afraid I was going to have to move in with Trinity if this didn’t work out. You know, keep her sane.” He paused. “Sedated.”

My eyes narrowed. “Do you want to scream like a small child again?”

“Maybe later. I’ll let you know.” Cayman took a drink of his soda.

Zayne tossed the bag of chips onto the counter. “Do I look like a walking light bulb to you?”

Rolling my eyes, I turned to him. “I said you didn’t look like that.”

“Just making sure.” He shot me a grin that shouldn’t have caused my heart to do a pitter-patter, but did.

Cayman shook his head. “No, but you do have a luminous...undertone now that you mention it.”

“See?”

Zayne’s grin kicked up a notch. “Got a question for you, Cayman. Do you feel anything when you’re around me?”

Cayman lowered his can of soda. “Depends on what you mean.”

Remembering how Purson had reacted to Zayne, I followed where he was leading with that question. “I think he’s talking about if you can sense what he is?”

“Other than the wings being a dead giveaway?” Cayman’s dark brows knitted. “Where are they, anyway?”

“I have them.” Zayne turned, giving Cayman a view of his back.

The demon let out a low whistle as he saw the markings. “Incognito. Nice. I haven’t seen that since angels worked side by side with man.”

My brows climbed up my forehead. “How old are you?”

“Old enough that I’ve seen entire civilizations fall only to be reborn,” Cayman replied.

“All righty, then,” I murmured.

“But to answer your question, you definitely don’t feel like a Warden.” His forehead creased as he studied Zayne. “You feel different.” His head tilted, sending a sheet of black hair over his shoulder. “But if I hadn’t seen the wings, I wouldn’t have known what you are.”

“How is that?” I asked, shifting from one foot to the next. Weariness was creeping into my muscles. It had been a long couple of days, and a day’s worth of sleep hadn’t gone as far as I thought it would.

“I guess it’s the same thing that prevents most demons from sensing that you’re a Trueborn. Some kind of heavenly shield attached to the grace, I suppose.”

“Could you sense a normal Fallen—one without its grace?” I asked, wondering if I could sense one myself.

Cayman nodded. “They feel like...like a very powerful demon. Not exactly but similar.” He leaned against the back of the couch. “Any demon worth its name will be able to pick up the aura of power around you, but their minds would never put holy and crap together and end up with a Fallen as the reason why. There just hasn’t been one roaming around for, well, since the Wardens came out of their shells. Obviously.”

“Interesting.” Zayne glanced over at me. “That is something that could be of benefit.”

“Yeah, except your little Targaryen burn-them-all moment Saturday night made it clear there was a Fallen on the scene—one with his wings and grace. I’m sure that’s spread farther and wider than obvious fake news on social media,” Cayman said. I guessed Purson wasn’t included in the DC Demons Facebook group or something. “Especially considering the way you feel reminds me of only one other being.”

Tags: Jennifer L. Armentrout The Harbinger Fantasy
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