My lungs stop working when he leans closer, his shoulder brushing my own. By the Archangels, I want to kiss him. But that’s silly, isn’t it? How can I want him after the awful way he’s treated me?
“How’d the midterm go?”
It takes a second before I realize he’s asked me a question, but I’m having the hardest time pulling my gaze from his lips.
He smiles like he knows exactly where my thoughts are, then he’s moving, brushing the hair off my shoulder and causing my heart to pound.Shit.
“Hmm? Oh. Living to fight another day, I think. How’s the Guild?”
The heart-stopping grin falls from his face. “I found something. And I get why they’ve kept it a secret, even if I don’t agree.”
“Is it that bad?”
“From what I found, the attack here was definitely just a diversion.”
“But from what, Zeke? Just spit it out. I can’t handle the suspense,” I tell him, annoyance clear in my tone, but that only makes the corner of his mouth tilt up slightly.
“I’m getting there, hummingbird. Stop interrupting.”
I roll my eyes but stay quiet.
“The second attack was at one of our armories. They killed the Guild members stationed there and took most of the weapons, including the few sun blades we kept locked away at that location.”
“Fuck.” If they took some of our special blades, we’re screwed. We need those to win the war, and as much as that sounds like an exaggeration, a war is exactly what we’re in right now. From the look on Zeke’s face, he’s more than worried.And he came to tell you right away. If he truly hated you, he wouldn’t have done that. Maybe Dina was right after all.
“It gets worse. The armory locations aren’t common knowledge. We have at least a dozen locations, some of which are fake, but they somehow knew which one to target.”
I suck in a sharp breath. “There’s a mole.”
“It would appear that way, yes.” He doesn’t bother elaborating, choosing instead to just stare at my lips. For a second, I wonder if maybe he’s thinking the same things as I am. Would it truly beso bad to let ourselves feel something? To act on the things that we want, consequences be damned.
But then my slate vibrates.
Raphael: We’re heading to you, sunshine. Prepare to get wet *winky face*
I know Zeke has read it by the sudden shift in his position. He backs away, no longer crowding my space and making me feel want and need. It’s like he’s dunked me in frigid waters.
He stands, but I stop him with a question. “Do you have any idea who the mole could be?”
Looking away, he shakes his head. “Not yet. But in the file there was a picture of a Fallen angel with scars along his wings. If I can find him, then maybe he can lead me to the piece-of-shit traitor, and we can finally end this. Share this with your little friends. Maybe they can find a way to be useful.”
It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes at him and his obvious distaste for Raphael and Theo, but I ignore it. “I will.”
With a nod he takes off, leaving me alone with a million questions crossing my mind and not a single answer to any of them.
The next few days pass in a blur of stress and studying until finally it’s the weekend and I can relax. Thanks to Raphael’s impressive tutoring skills, I was able to manage both telekinesis and telepathy in tandem. While the other tests I had were difficult, that one had been the one I was most worried about. Before coming here, I had zero experience with our abilities. I was like a newborn baby, trying to take their first steps. But I’ve made it this far and have no intention of stopping.
Now, the only thing standing in front of me and a well-deserved break is the angelic history midterm. Raphael and Dina finished their tests this week, the lucky assholes, which left only Theo and me with a midterm to study for. Compared to the other exams, it’ll be a walk in the park.
Instead of studying, Raphael, Theo, and I are in my room. They’re supposed to be helping me pack for my trip to the Fallen district to celebrate The Archangels’ Feast, but I wouldn’t call what they’re doing helpful.
Raphael lounges on my bed, unfolding the clothes I place beside my open bag and making some comment or another about how good it would look on me — or off. When he’s done, he hands it to Theo, who’s relaxing in the chair he’d pulled over, where he then refolds it and places it neatly inside. Even though he hasn’t been the one commenting about my clothes, I’ve caught him nodding along in agreement more than once.
My blood heats as I think about the night at the park and the fact that the three of us are in my room. Anything could happen.
“I found these in my closet,” I say, holding up two hangers, each one with a sweater on it. For the past week or two, Raphael’s been offering me his sweater or Theo’s at every opportunity. Of course, I take them. There’s something inherently more comfortable about wearing their clothes over mine, anyway, but I’m not sure why the sudden push for it.
“Definitely pack those. Then when you wear them, it’ll be like we’re right there with you.”
