Page 14 of Forging Darkness

My heartbeat gets caught in my throat.

The sixth ring is cut off mid-chime, and my heart starts thumping again, double-time.

“Steel?” The word comes out breathy, like she’s been exercising. I check the clock and do the proper time zone adjustments and realize it’s 2 AM for her. What, besides sleeping, could she possibly be doing at this time of night?

Just like always, my mind takes me to dark places. I want to ask her what’s wrong, but smash my lips together to keep from uttering a word.

“Steel, please talk to me,” she urges.

Hanging my head, I rub my forehead with my palm. What am I doing?

I start to pull the phone away from my ear, prepared to hit End, when her next comment stops me.

“I know who my father is. Or rather, who he might be. Would you like to know?” Her words are soft, but they resonate like a bass drum, thumping around my head and making me second-guess if I even heard her correctly.

Her father? Yes. Yes, I definitely want to know. But I can’t say anything because once I do my resolve will shatter. I almost didn’t hang up the last time we spoke.

“His name is Camiel. At least that’s what I was told by . . . by someone who would know.”

Who would know who her father is? What am I supposed to make of that hitch in her sentence?

I clutch the phone like a lifeline. I have to order my hand to loosen or I’ll be left with a pile of plastic and wiring good for nothing but the garbage—and this call really will be over before it begins.

“There’s actually quite a bit that’s happened in the last few weeks. I’ve wanted to tell you, but I was hoping to be able to say it to your face. But since I don’t know when I’ll see you again, well, I suppose this will have to do. See, we might have exposed some of my origin story.” She laughs gently. “I like to call it that because I can pretend I’m a superhero. Would you like to know more?”

Tell me, I mentally order, but not even a breath passes my lips.

“I’m going to take that as a yes. So this, um, person who knows my father also knows what angel line he’s from.” Her words come out in a rush, as if she’s worried I’ll slip away before she can finish. “And it actually turns out—I can’t believe I’m even saying this—

but there’s a chance I might be descended from a seraph.”

I lean back, and the wooden chair underneath me screams and splinters. I end up sprawled on my butt and back.

“Steel? Are you okay? What just happened?”

I wouldn’t tell you even if I was talking, I think to myself.

I get up and only just stop myself from kicking the remaining lump of wood into the drywall as punishment for interrupting Emberly’s revelation.

A seraph Neph. Is that even possible? There’s never been one before. I blow out a breath and start pacing as I contemplate the implications. Nephilim pretend to know everything, but Emberly is living proof that they don’t.

“Well, I can hear you breathing, so I’m going to assume you’re still alive and kicking. I know it’s probably a shock. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t believe me.”

I believe you. I’ll always believe you, I want to shout, but I remain silent.

“I’ve had a hard time believing it myself.” She laughs again, quietly so as not to wake Ash I presume, and the sound washes over me like a warm breeze. “Part of me still doesn’t, if I’m being honest. If it is true, what if it means . . .”

What? What do you think it means?

“I have to go,” she says, rather than finishing her thought. I open my mouth to stop her from hanging up on me, but it’s too late. She already has.

Chapter Six

Sterling spins in my desk chair and whoops, “I got you, Sucker! Score one for the middle sib!”

“Sterling!” I whisper-hiss. “Why don’t you announce it to the whole girls’ dorm?”

Grimacing, he ducks his head and shoots me a guilty look, then continues a silent victory dance which includes a full-body gyration that would make any female popstar proud.

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