Page 382 of Castings & Curses

I wanted to comfort her, but I knew I wasn't supposed to be there. She wouldn't react well if she found me in her house, especially after what had happened to Misha. So I stayed silent, listening to her cry and bearing witness to her pain as I extended my senses to detect any sign of a child.

There wasn't one. I only sensed Lucia, alone. I reached out with my energies, providing her strength and reassurance, in the same way I'd provided inspiration to her fallen partner. I turned away, preparing to leave, and I discovered I wasn't alone.

I stifled a gasp, not wanting to alert Lucia to my presence, or the stranger's. A woman stood before me with the most beautiful features. Soft ringlets of blonde hair fell around her face, but she wore a coat and jeans like a random New Yorker. I could tell at a glance that she wasn't mortal. She placed her finger against her lips and nodded to the hallway. I followed her out of the room, wondering what this meant for me.

We got all the way outside the house before we spoke. I could see the outline of her wings, almost translucent to my sight. I was sure they'd be entirely invisible to mortals. She was an angel then! Her features appeared soft in the light of the street lamp, and she didn't treat me like a threat. I appreciated that.

"I've spoken with Riga and I would like to talk to you about what you sensed," she said. The angelic woman appeared to choose her words carefully. "We need to go somewhere else. The sentinels are watching Lucia's house and they will have seen us already."

My heart almost stopped when I heard those words. There was next to no chance the sentinels hadn't detected me, even with my magic. If only I could fly away or teleport the way I once had when I was a goddess and not a muse! But I no longer had that capability. Now I knew why — I was easier to control this way.

Tears of frustration formed in my eyes as I fought the locks controlling my powers, but it was no good. I don't know if the angel knew what I was trying to do, but she studied me, and I realized I hadn't answered her.

"Where do you want to go?" I asked, fearing captivity and the harsh judgment of angels. I didn't know whether I could trust her. A matter of days ago, I wouldn't have felt any doubt. She would've been a colleague, not a potential enemy.

"Let's talk as we walk, shall we?" she suggested.

I realized there might be a reason for her suggestion. It would keep me away from other people I could harm if I was Misha's killer, and it would distract me from the notion of taking her soul.

She could've been the one who killed Misha, for all I knew, but some instinct told me that wasn't the case. I didn't perceive any aggression from her, just a preternatural awareness coupled with caution. I wondered if we'd met before. She felt familiar, but I couldn't place it. Perhaps I'd seen her in a crowd?

I put the thought aside as I followed her along the road.

The blonde angel glanced my way and I felt my heart skip a beat. I was disgusted with myself that she evoked such a reaction from me. Now wasn't the time to feel attraction.

"I'm Aurelia," she said, glancing back at me. "I'm one of the angels tasked with finding you, as well as Misha's killer."

"I didn't do it," I said instinctively. "I was on my way to his place when I sensed it from afar. His desperation and fear, and this sense of ripping. I don't know if it was his soul being torn away from his body or a wound inflicted, but it was eerie and tragic. There was nothing I could do for him. I couldn’t get there fast enough.

"I knew you angels would be coming to find me, because I knew Misha well, and how many people possess that kind of power? But you should know, much of my power is locked away, and I couldn't have done something like this even if I'd wanted to. I wouldn't, in any case. I cared about Misha and I miss him."

Aurelia frowned as she listened to my defense. I felt a warmth flow over me, almost like the sense of comfort one gets from a hug, and I realized she might be sensing my feelings and analyzing the locks placed on my magic. I was still capable of some magic, of course, but I didn't have access to the raw power contained within me. The sense of mischief that embodied my nature begged to come out and play, even though this was neither the time nor the place. It felt as though for too long it had been caged.

"You're telling the truth," Aurelia announced as she looked me straight in the eye.

"Of course I am. I'm one of you, not your enemy."

I'd never expected the restraint I needed to be so difficult. I felt divided between escaping Misha's killer or letting them find me, so I could take my revenge.

Even before I was a muse, I was never an avenging goddess, but I suppose I'm as capable of it as the next person when given enough reason.

But who was the killer? If Nephilim was the reason, who hated the prospect so intensely that they'd kill a man because of his angelic heritage, before a child was even conceived? Unless there had been a child and now they were gone, but no. I was sure that wasn't the case. I'd have sensed it.

It was possible I was wrong and it wasn't what all this was about. If so, it would take me back to square one.

There was a burger restaurant ahead of us, and I asked, "Why don't we go in there?"

"We can. Do you know Riga well?" the angel asked.

"Yes," I replied.

I was tempted to explain she was my friend and had been for decades, but I didn't want to say too much.

"Someone tried to kill her tonight," Aurelia said, pausing outside the restaurant.

"What?" I asked as feelings of outrage bubbled to the surface.

"You should know she's alright," Aurelia replied, "but someone teleported her above the city. She'd have died if the archangel Raphael hadn't caught her."

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