“That’s enough!” Gabriel shouted. “Lailah.” He caught himself. “Cessie.”
“What did you call her?”
Azrael moved closer and Gabriel nudged me backward protectively.
“My name is Lailah,” I replied, in the smoothest tone I could muster.
Upon hearing this, Azrael circled the room, finally smiling to himself. “Do you know that Lailah is a name given to an Angel of Freedom and the highest-ranking Angel under an Arch Angel?” Azrael said. “Your mother left you one thing at least. Hope.”
Gabriel turned his body in to mine. “Azrael has been wandering this dimension for nearly two hundred years. He doesn’t know anything for certain; he’s surmising.”
I glared at Azrael. “Gabriel’s right, you can’t know what the effect would be from what that Pureblood did, and you can’t know for sure that I am the child you lost.”
Azrael pulled his crisp shirt down and neatened his blond hair. It was strange to think that this being—who looked no older than Gabriel or me—was in some bizarre way claiming to be my father.
“You told me that a Second Generation drank from her?” His tone had returned to calm, almost caring.
Gabriel nodded.
“Was it the female you traveled with?” he asked.
“No, his name is Jonah,” I answered too quickly.
“Is he here?”
“He’s not back yet,” I said.
“Well, let us go and wait for him.”
We lingered uncomfortably upstairs in the living room. Ruadhan set an omelet in front of me, which I played with on my plate.
Gabriel called Jonah from his cell. If Jonah showed up, then perhaps Azrael would show his hand.
Azrael gestured to me and sat next to Gabriel on the sofa, no space between us. “Out of curiosity, Gabriel, what does she look like to you?”
The sun was lowering and, in response to the dwindling light, Azrael flipped on the lamp next to him and gestured again. “I’d say she’s got long blond hair, blue eyes, pale skin, average height, slim. You?”
Gabriel turned to me, confused with the question, and shot back to Azrael, “The same, she’s always looked the same.” His reply was brisk and smooth.
“Ruadhan, is it?” Azrael called over to my Irish protector, who sat at the table with his nose in a book—though I could tell he was only pretending to read it.
“Aye.”
“How would you describe her?” he pushed.
Ruadhan drew his neck in a little and eyed me. “Exactly the way you said. She’s a sweet little thing, when she’s not up to mischief.” He grinned at me, which made me feel a little bit better.
“Hanora!” Azrael bellowed.
My body stiffened; I didn’t want to see her. The door upstairs creaked and I watched as Hanora delicately descended the stairs until she stood next to Ruadhan.
I couldn’t help but notice that underneath the silk headscarf that she had wrapped around her hair and over her ears were burn marks, bubbled and scarred down the porcelain of her neck. Vampires healed quickly; I didn’t know what could cause that kind of damage to sit on the skin for a prolonged period of time.
“You?” Azrael asked.
Hanora eyed me with contempt; if looks could kill I would have been dead in an instant. “She’s a bit on the short side.”
Hanora didn’t miss her opportunity to have a dig. I gathered she’d been listening in from the other room.
I turned to Azrael. “Why are you asking them what I look like?”
Before he could answer, the front door slammed and the whole house shook as Jonah catapulted up the stairs, with Brooke behind him.
“Cessie, are you all right?” he fired, assessing the scene.
“She’s fine,” Gabriel half growled, standing up from the sofa. “This is Azrael. He’s an Angel and he’s come to help us.”
Gabriel took my hand and squeezed it. I stood and saw Hanora flinch from across the room. Wasting no time, Azrael paced up and down the living room, holding everyone’s attention.
“You are Second Generation, of course.” He spoke in the smoothest of voices, directing his statement at Jonah.
“Too good-looking to be a Pureblood, don’t you think?” Jonah spat sarcastically.
“Gabriel tells me that you drank from her. Just the once, was it?”
Jonah shifted uncomfortably, finally nodding. Swaying a little he shuffled Brooke behind his back. I knew by this sly move that he was unsure of where this was leading and his instinct now was to protect Brooke. They could after all be ended by an Angel and they didn’t know or trust this particular one.
“Is she appealing to you?”
“I’m sorry?” Jonah said.
“Was she appetizing?” Azrael continued.
I felt Gabriel’s body tense.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Jonah replied.
“Don’t you find it interesting, given that you are a dark creature that enjoys drinking from dark souls of humans, that you would find her so pleasing, given that she is a light soul?” Azrael glared at Gabriel. “I’m interested to know, from the perspective of a Vampire who has drunk her blood, how you see her?” He looked back at Jonah.
The lines in Jonah’s brow deepened as he considered Azrael’s bizarre question.
“You have a pair of eyes, don’t you?” Azrael pressed, glaring at Jonah with contempt. He clearly wasn’t used to conversing with Vampires, and he seemed to be running out of patience, and fast.
Finally, shrugging his shoulders, Jonah smiled at me and said, “Cessie is quite striking. Dark eyes, gray, verging on black…” He hesitated before he continued. “Either way they are twice the size they probably should be. Long, loose, jet-black curls that bob in the arch of her back … pale, like she’s never seen the sun.” He watched my jaw drop.
I looked to Gabriel and then to Azrael, puzzled.
“Jonah, stop messing around,” I huffed. “Just tell him so we can stop this ridiculous conversation!”
But Jonah’s earnest eyes told me that he wasn’t joking.
“I don’t understand.” Hanora spoke first.
“Lailah is not very different from all of you. She’s just better at hiding it,” Azrael answered calmly.
My eyes shot to Ruadhan, who stood still as a statue as the realization of my name and what that meant dawned on his expression.