“You didn’t tell him yet, did you?” Gem says. His question is for Zhang.
“Tell me what?”
“I was busy saving your ass and then fucking it,” Zhang says before I can rip him a new one.
“Goddess, if this four-man team is gonna work, we need boundaries,” Atlanta says, buckling Gem’s boots for him.
“The hawthors came for you, Treyu,” Gem says. “They know someone’s after you, but not who. They came to offer you asylum.”
“What the fuck? How can so many people know that someone’s after you, but not who?” Atlanta asks.
“Zhang knows, he just can’t tell us. Spell,” I add when they both raise their brows.
“Not a damn thing?” Atlanta asks.
Zhang makes a noncommittal gesture.
“Tell us more, Treyu,” Gem says.
“It was during my time on Earth. Apparently, this guy and I were hitched with eighteen kids and making moonshine to get by. Then shit went down, I was made half angel, and this guy was the only one left with the memory of it. He just can’t speak of it.”
“Torture,” Zhang adds.
Atlanta twists his lips. “The more I hear it, the more it just doesn’t add up. Father said there’s a secret he’s been keeping about you and that it’s connected to the hawthors’ visit. How would Father know anything if it was wiped from memory?”
“The same way people seemed to find out, I guess.” Also an unknown.
“We weren’t privy to that secret,” Zhang says. “We were booted out of the meeting while the ‘grown-ups’ talked.”
I detect bitterness.
“This is good news,” Gem says. “You’re a key, Treyu. All you have to do is remember and you’ll unlock the spell.”
“Perfect,” I say.
“We’re screwed,” Zhang adds.
“Hey now?—”
“All my obvious hints have gone straight over your head,” he complains.
“Fine, I’ll give you that one.” I sigh and scrub a hand over my face. “This sucks.”
The monitors flash red, beeping and buzzing. “Shit. Who the fuck is on our tail?” I say. Can’t be an angel, they’d show up on the ship’s deck unannounced. Gem and I jump up so that our men can drive free of interference, and I’m fine with that. I’ve had about enough of this conversation.
“I don’t recognize the ship, do you?” Atlanta asks Zhang.
Zhang shakes his head. “It’s not from any star system I recognize. Looks like a one-person fighter jet. We could take them out if we have to.”
Zhang’s stone glare says he’s so done with shit and that he might do it anyway. I don’t blame him. The last few weeks I’ve had. I’m exhausted. Whoever this is sniffed up our tail on a bad day.
“They’re hailing us. This is Orion One, state your business,” Atlanta says using the ship’s communicator.
No answer.
“This is Orion One, state your business,” Atlanta repeats. “Fuck. Not answering. Can’t be good.”
“What do you think, Gemini?” Zhang asks. “I know you said we shouldn’t go home, but I can’t think of anywhere else safe enough to hide from an angry seraph.”
