Page 44 of Concluded
Light dawned in Achilles’ beleaguered brain.“You want to wish yourself into Dunn’s black hole so you can do a rescue mission.”
“Yes.”
Dee spoke up.“Why?I mean, I get it—this person is stuck somewhere awful.But you guys keep saying how busy you are, and I’ve seen for myself that there’s a Big Nasty waiting to take a chomp out of everyone.And you seem like a pretty important guy.Why use limited resources and risk your life over one person?”
That was an excellent question, and Achilles gave Dee an approving look.
Grimes’s scowl deepened.“Because,” he said, “I suspect that captive is my father.”
CHAPTER18
Dee was trying very hard to keep up with the conversation.It wasn’t that he was especially stupid, although he’d never claimed to be a genius.It was simply that everyone else in the room was accustomed to missions and nefarious plots and forays into weirdness, and Dee wasn’t.
Anyway, although he now understood what Chief Grimes wanted, the father part confused him.
But Achilles didn’t seem befuddled.He leapt to his feet, winced, but remained standing, fury plastered on his face.“What the fuck?”he bellowed.“The world is teetering on the edge, what’s left of the Bureau is short-staffed and in disarray, andyou’reworried about a family reunion?That’swhat you’re using limited resources on?Look, that black hole place sucks, but not as bad as mass genocide.Oh, and by the way, Dee’s not an agent, so he’s not at your beck and call for personal service.”
“You’re not an agent anymore either,” Grimes snarled back.“None of us are.And I don’t need you to?—”
“Master.”Tenrael’s hand was on Grimes’s shoulder again, and although he’d spoken quietly, his voice held a definite firmness that contrasted with the subservient term.
Grimes turned his head to look at him.“What?”
“Perhaps you should explain who your father is.”
“All right,” said Grimes in a considerably calmer tone.He reached over to stroke Tenrael’s feathers, either to thank him or to calm himself.Maybe both.
And as Achilles, with a disgruntled expression, retook his chair and Grimes seemed to collect his thoughts, a realization hit Dee.A person could submit to another not out of fear but out of love and the desire to submit.And the relationship between those people, rather than involving the brute imposition of power, could be a delicate dance of strength and weakness.Contrary to initial appearances, Grimes and Tenrael weren’t unequal; they’d found a way to strike a balance.
And hadn’t Dee been told already that it was all about balance?
A yearning encompassed Dee with such ferocity that, had he been standing, he would have fallen to his knees.As it was, he had to swallow a moan and, briefly at least, squeeze his eyes shut.Thatwas what he wanted—no, what heneeded: to have a master who loved him and who Dee loved back.Someone who wouldn’t just use him, as Ashley had, but who would respect him.Someone who would help Dee be a better and more complete version of himself, and who would be similarly helped by him.
How had Dee gone four decades without knowing this about himself?
But Grimes was about to speak, and this wasn’t the best time for earth-shaking self-revelations.
“My father is an angel,” Grimes said finally.“I never met him, and my mother never spoke of him.I know his identity only because of certain things I inherited from him.”
Dee thought he might be referring to his extremely pale coloring or his oddly-hued eyes.But then Grimes shrugged out of his suit jacket, letting it fall negligently to the floor, and then swiftly removed his tie, shirt, and undershirt.When he turned his back to them, Dee saw a pair of long, ugly scars, red lines that paralleled his spine.
Achilles caught on first.“You had wings.”His anger had fled.
“Not like Ten’s.Mine were small.Useless.I had them removed when I was eighteen.But I know they were once there, and I know what they mean.”
When Grimes turned toward them, his face was set, no emotions visible.“My father disappeared before I was born.For a long time, I assumed he’d deserted my mother.And me.I was furious at him because of this.And then one day, circa….Christ, Ten, when was it?”
“It was 1942,” Tenrael answered without hesitating.
“Right.In 1942, that bastard Townsend gifted me with one of his cryptic pronouncements.I remember the exact words.We were talking about wounded angels needing time to heal—I’d been hurt on a mission—and he said, ‘Maybe what looks like abandonment might, in fact, be something else.’”
“So he knew what happened to your father?”Dee asked, now caught up in the story.He also wanted to ask how old Grimes was, but didn’t.
“Hell if I know.He wouldn’t explain himself then or in any of the following decades.I’ve tried to let it go, but as you might imagine, it’s always been at the back of my head.”
Dee could imagine this perfectly well.One of his parents had disappeared too, although under marginally less mysterious circumstances, and he’d spent a good chunk of his life wondering what had happened to her.Was she alive somewhere, or was nothing left of her but crumbling bones?Had she regretted abandoning him?Had she planned to return for him someday?
“How do you know that the prisoner who was sensed by the agent is your father?”Dee asked.
