hate the emotions she brings out in me. I fucking hate the way this small, beautiful creature makes me feel.
I want to destroy her.
I want to save her.
I want—
Surging to my feet with a growl, I almost shove her away. She looks shocked at the sudden loss of my touch, and I turn on my heel, a dangerous cocktail of emotions churning in my stomach.
Storming down the hall, I pound my fist against the closed door that leads to Morrigan’s back room.
“Witch!” I bellow. “Hurry the fuck up!”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Trinity
I’m still incredibly woozy, and I jump as Ford bangs on Morrigan’s door at the end of the hallway again. His fist sounds like it’s as heavy as a sledgehammer.
“Careful, please.” Remington glances at me as he speaks, and I know he’s thinking about my head, which throbs in time to my heartbeat.
Ugh, I’m so dizzy. The world seems like it’s spinning around me.
“How long am I going to feel like this?” I ask, forcing my tongue to form the words.
“For a bit,” Remington admits, sounding genuinely apologetic. “I’ll make you something to eat. That’ll be the best thing for you.”
Ford storms back into the room, glancing around like he’s looking for something to hurl at the wall. Beckett gives him a stern look, then comes to sit next to me.
“Phoenix is keeping an eye on her, Ford,” he tells his brother. “You can calm down.”
I drop forward, bracing my elbows on my knees, and Beckett begins to rub my back slowly. My body goes tense under his large palm for a moment, but then I relax and just allow the touch to comfort me. I don’t look at him or give any outward acknowledgement of the gesture though—I’m certain he’d pull his hand away if I draw attention to it.
I can’t believe the men are acting like this. It’s so strange. It’s like… like they care.
And now that I’m awake and somewhat coherent again, I realize how much danger I was in. Morrigan was intending to drain me dry; I’m sure of it. And if the men hadn’t stopped her, she could’ve killed me.
It’s a scary thought, a painful reminder of the fact that I’m not exactly the most powerful angel out there. And that maybe my own trusting nature makes me weak. Makes me vulnerable and open to attacks that I can’t anticipate.
It’s clear to me that if I was on my own in this, I would’ve died. If I tried to close this portal by myself… well, I wouldn’t have gotten this far in the first place because I wouldn’t have gotten any of the information without the help of the sins and their contacts.
But even if I had somehow gotten this far and needed help from Morrigan, I would be dead now if I had come alone. It’s thanks to the men that I’m alive in this moment, and my stomach is erupting in butterflies that have nothing to do with how woozy I am from the blood loss. They seem to care—that’s what I keep coming back to.
They don’t, I remind myself as fiercely as I can manage. They don’t care about you. It’s just because you owe them a favor. Or because they want to use you just like Morrigan did.
But for some reason, that thought doesn’t hold as much weight to me as it did before. It feels more like an excuse, a mantra I keep trying to hide behind. Because it’s scary to believe that they could actually care. It feels dangerous, in a way that I’ve never known danger before. It’s too confusing, too frightening, to allow myself to believe it.
The idea that they were scared to lose me…
I can’t handle that.
Maybe it makes me a coward. But it’s so much easier to just keep things in their neat little boxes.
They’re sins.
I’m an angel.
Like the witch said, those two things don’t mix.
Like oil and water.
Before my thoughts can spiral any more, the door opens. Ford steps back just enough so that Morrigan can exit, Phoenix right behind her. Ford’s not giving her a whole lot of personal space, glaring at her like he’s seconds way from ripping her throat out. Morrigan seems to be making a concerted effort to ignore him, but she’s not doing all that great of a job at it. I can’t blame her for being nervous. Wrath is enough to strike fear in anyone.
Beckett stands up and takes a step to his right, subtly putting himself directly in between