Black City

“Maybe we should quit the touching and the kissing for a while until we figure out what’s going on,” I said, and I felt a pang of loss. My words were sensible, but my body craved him. It was a little frightening.

“That seems wise,” Nathaniel agreed. “But it will be difficult.”

“We have to try,” I said.

“When I slept, I dreamed of you,” Nathaniel said. “I dreamed that you rose above the city on silver wings, and all below you fell to their knees in wonder and awe. The power of the universe burned within you, and as that power flowed, you shone brighter and brighter. As the light of your sun touched the faces of the vampires below, they were destroyed utterly. Even the ash of their remains was vaporized by your light.”

He’d said all of this as if he were in a trance. As he spoke a chill washed over me. I felt the cold hand of destiny draw a finger down my spine.

“Do you think it was a prophecy?” I asked quietly. I didn’t like prophecies. Most of my life had been ruled by prophecies, the deaths foreseen at the Agency. I liked to feel as though I was the mistress of my own fate.

“I believe you have the ability within you to end this war. That is what my dream revealed to me.”

“I don’t have powers like that,” I said. “I don’t even have wings anymore.”

“The potential is inside you. It just needs to be revealed.”

I rubbed my forehead tiredly. “I don’t know how to reveal it. Maybe Lucifer would know if he’d answer my damned phone calls.”

I gave the snake tattoo on my right palm an angry glare. It lay quiescent and unmoving, the way it did when Lucifer was out of touch.

There was a brief knock at the bedroom door and Jude came in. I took a moment to be grateful that the wolf hadn’t walked in while Nathaniel and I were embracing. Jude did not trust Nathaniel at all.

“You need to come out here,” Jude said. “There’s something on the television that you need to see.”

I followed Jude into the hallway and Nathaniel fell in behind me. Chloe, Samiel and Beezle waited in the living room. Beezle sat on the coffee table holding the remote. Samiel sat on the couch with Chloe in his lap. Beezle followed the direction of my gaze.

“Sickening, aren’t they?” he said. “Ever since she got out of the hospital they can’t keep their hands off each other.”

“Jealous, little gargoyle?” Chloe asked, resting her head on Samiel’s shoulder. She had dark circles under her eyes, and she didn’t look completely recovered from her ordeal in Azazel’s mansion. Her vivid purple hair was pushed away from her face with a headband that had little skulls printed all over it.

Beezle scrunched up his face. “Absolutely not. I just think there’s a little too much PDA going on around here. Human procreation is so gross.”

I’m not human, Samiel signed.

“Close enough,” Beezle said.

“How do gargoyles procreate?” Chloe asked.

“Nope, I’m drawing the line there,” I said before Beezle could respond. “I do not want to hear how you make baby gargoyles.”

“It’s quite a fascinating process, actually,” Beezle said.

I stuck my fingers in my ears. “Nope, not listening, la-la-la-la-la.”

“I thought you wanted her to see something on television,” Jude growled.

“I do,” Beezle said. “But there’s a commercial on. It will come up in a minute. The news anchor said the footage would be up after the break.”

“Footage of what?” I asked, a pit forming in my stomach. This couldn’t be anything good, and I’d had enough of bad news.

“Just wait,” Beezle said. “Although you wouldn’t have to wait if you’d gotten that DVR like I said you should.”

“You mean the DVR we can’t afford? You’re lucky we have cable.”

“If we had a DVR, I could have paused the program until you got your butt out of bed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I spent a day and a night running for my life while pregnant. For some strange reason I was exhausted.”

“Not exhausted enough,” Beezle muttered, and I understood from his tone that he was referring to the changes in me and Nathaniel.

Luckily, the news program came back on before we could pursue that line of conversation in the presence of an audience. Of course, a reckoning in front of my gang of misfits was probably as inevitable as what would happen between Nathaniel and me. Even now I was aware of him in a low-level way, a presence in the back of my mind.

The anchor—one of those plastic newscasters who look like they’ve been pressed in an attractive-but-not-in-a-threatening-way mold—was recapping the events of two days ago, even showing the same clip of the vampires in Daley Plaza that had sent us down there in such a hurry.

“Why did I get out of bed for this?” I asked.

“Just wait,” Beezle said.

My stomach rumbled audibly. Samiel patted Chloe’s shoulder and she slid off his lap onto the couch.

I’ll make you some breakfast. I’ve already seen it.

“I’m feeling a little peckish myself,” Beezle said.

“You already ate enough waffles to sink the Titanic,” Jude said.

“That was a long time ago,” Beezle whined.

“It was a half an hour ago,” Jude said through his teeth.

“Quiet,” Chloe said. “It’s coming on.”