Page 6 of Vanish Into Light

Had watched her surpass even his own high expectations for her.

And he’d watched her with her military man – with Lance du Lac. The one who’d killed for Castor in the name of information-gathering.

He was a good sort, if he was honest, this du Lac. Strong, and handsome, andnoble. He tried to do what wasright, clinging to the notion that, even in this current landscape,rightwas still a thing that existed. He’d been good to Rose, had let her be the warrior that she was, and for that Beck could only be grateful.

It didn’t mean he hadn’t wanted to gut the man.

An acquaintance had offered to do just that, before he was sent topside: hot breath and a low snicker in Beck’s ear:“You want I should give it to him, Becky-boy?”

Ugh. Why did so many devils come from Jersey?

But Lance hadn’t been so easy to kill, not for the garden-variety hell conduits the pit had thrown at him. And Rose…Rose loved him, in her way. Not like she loved Beck, he knew, with childish satisfaction. But he was good for her. Looked after her.

She might have even been happy.

Had she given up her crusade.

When demons scattered before the blue, spectral stag, and the slashing sword of Saint Derfel, Beck knew that she had succeeded.

And now here they all were.

A prickling up the back of his neck told him he wasn’t alone. The rain dampened scents, but he finally caught a whiff of metal, the cleanness of new steel under sunlight.

He felt a grin stretch his face as he turned, and found the girl standing just beyond the rooftop door, staring at him with her too-big, blue eyes. She still wore her fatigues, but she’d lost her helmet, and the rain was fast plastering her pale cap of hair to her head and cheeks. Power shimmered in an aura around her; humans couldn’t see it, he knew, but they could feel the hum of it, that uneasy crawling of their skin.

Beck said, “Hello, Michael.”

“The humans know me as Morgan,” she said, tonelessly.

“Well, heaven forbid I disabuse them of that notion.” He chuckled. “But theywillfind out, eventually. You’re good at only one thing, and someone will recognize it at some point. Some good little Catholic boy who memorized his saints.”

She blinked, and even that small gesture was a sign of life, of feeling. “I’m becoming good at other things.”

“You saved du Lac’s life, then.”

“Yes. And I made Gallo’s arm.”

“Impressive. And yet, they still keep you locked up.”

Another blink. “Not now. There’s only one cell, here, and they had to put Shubert in it.”

Beck traced the roof of his mouth and each fang with his tongue, chasing the bright spark that lingered there. “He tastes of lightning.”

“He is an abomination. As are you.”

He grinned again; it felt so different from his grins before, like some shackle had been struck from his face. “Ah, yes. But I’m the abomination youneed.”

THREE

Rose had suspected she would find Beck on the roof. Call it a prejudicial hunch that a being with wings would want access to the open air.

She hadn’t expected to find him standing, hands at his sides, head tipped to an inquisitive angle, staring off into space. Rain pelted his head, dripped down his face, and from the tips of his hair – and his horns. A familiar groove marked the space between his brows, and his lips were set in the way they used to get, during their study sessions in the library. The juxtaposition of the Beck she’d known and loved alongside the wings, and the horns, and the black hair…it brought her up short.

She hadn’t expected that. She’d thought to rush right up to him, because she wasn’t afraid, and, like she’d told Lance, this wasBeck. The Beck that she knew, and loved, and had sacrificed for.

But.

She stood a moment, as the door clanged shut, and stared at him, chest tight, throat tight.

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