“I know. Despite how he’s acting, Micah’s spent nearly every second I’ve known him trying to figure out how to get you back. I think he’s disappointed you stole his thunder.” She smiled at me. “I’m Maggie—apparently my father’s a powerful demon.”
So she was only half human.
“It’s nice to meet you. This is my wife, Laila.”
Laila ducked out from under my arm before I could stop her. I cursed, and she rolled her eyes. “Are you going to hurt me? Hurt either of us?”
“Not if I don’t have to,” Micah said at the same time Maggie said, “No.”
Laila looked back at me. “They’re telling the truth.”
Micah’s brows pinched in confusion. “You’re an angel of the first order. But you don’t have your wings out.”
I growled a warning at my once-brother.
“I lost them,” Laila said simply. “Turns out wings don’t grow back very quickly in Hell.”
Micah looked between the two of us. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”
Join the club,I thought.
“They both have the seal,” Maggie said.
“Are you sure?” Micah asked.
“If you were going to doubt me, why did you bother bringing me along? Yes, I’m sure.”
I had no idea what they were talking about, but honestly, I didn’t care.
“I want to take Laila to Danielle,” I said. She was the only angel I knew of with power that could heal other angels and not just humans like I could. She couldn’t fix Laila’s wings, but she could help speed up the regrowth process. She’d done it for Nathaniel years ago.
“Jor—” Micah started.
“I’m begging you. Please, Micah.”
He sighed. “I’ll try. There are no guarantees what will happen once we get to Heaven. But I will try. I promise.”
I nodded. It was the most I could ask for. Ultimately the decision was up to Father, but as an archangel, Micah was one of the few who got to go before God and plead cases. Micah could advocate for me.
“Thank you.”
* * *
It turnedout we’d come through a back door into Hell. Usually people didn’t come out of it, but Prince Beautiful, as Laila called him, must have sent us there specifically so we’d run into Micah and Maggie before they could enter Hell, looking for us.
We had to fly to Stokkvågen to find an elevator that could take us to Heaven. At least it was June and not bitterly cold flying through Norway.
A silver-winged guard was waiting for us the second we stepped into Heaven. Or more accurately, waiting for Laila.
He didn’t so much as glance at the rest of us as he tipped his head at her.
“He’s waiting for you in the receiving room,” he said to her.
It physically hurt to let go of her hand, to step back, but neither of us could ignore Father’s request. Laila was an attendant—of course He wanted to see her. She didn’t need an archangel to speak for her.
“What are you doing?” she asked, looking at me.
I forced a smile I didn’t feel. “You have to go, and I’m not invited.”
