Zayne take the seat to her right. “A Fallen with manners?” The skin at the corners of her eyes creased even further. “Or a Fallen who is in love?”
“The latter would probably be a more accurate observation,” Zayne answered, and my heart did a little jig in my chest.
Her lips turned up in a smile as she leaned toward Zayne. “You are something I’d never seen before, unique before even now. A Warden who befriended demons, something that has always set you above others. You achieved restoration of your Glory, a nearly impossible feat, and you gave away heavenly acceptance for love. Now, a Fallen with heavenly fire coursing through your veins. I’ve waited a very long time to say this. You have always been undervalued and underrated, but that has changed.” Her gaze roamed over Zayne. “You’re magnificent.”
“I really like her,” Zayne said to me. “Should’ve come here sooner.”
The Crone batted her white-tipped eyelashes—actually fluttered them at Zayne. “You are always welcome.” She lifted a small hand, stopping short before touching his arm. “May I?”
Muscles tensed as Zayne nodded for her to continue. I didn’t think she would be stupid enough to try something, but then again, people were generally stupid.
The Crone placed her hand on his arm. Her eyes drifted shut for a moment. “Yes,” she said softly. “You are utterly unique.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’s going to end up with a huge ego if you keep this up.”
“But it is an ego well deserved,” the Crone replied, slipping her hand from Zayne’s skin. “Do you not agree?”
“I agree,” I muttered.
Zayne shot me a half grin. “We owe you a thank-you, Crone.”
“Is that so?” Bushy white brows lifted.
Zayne nodded. “You gave her the means to help me.”
“But those means did not come without strings,” the Crone reminded us.
“I know.” I lifted the baggie. “We have your feather.”
Her smile grew as she eyed the bag. “I knew you would not fail.” Those eyes, as sharp as anyone half her age—whatever that age was—rose to mine. “You feared that you would. No one would blame you for that. Either you restored him or ended him, and that is no action taken lightly.”
“No.” I placed the baggie on the table. “It wasn’t.”
“I like you,” the Crone said.
“As much as you like him?” I countered.
Her laugh was raspy. “I like both of you. Together. You’re two halves meant to be one. Always have been. Always will be.”
There was a skipping motion in my chest as she looked down at the feather. “It’s sad, is it not? What Gabriel plots to do to this world and to Heaven.”
I stilled. I’d never shared with her what Gabriel planned...or that he was the Harbinger, but I wasn’t exactly surprised that she knew. “I could think of a stronger adjective to describe what he plans, but yes.”
She nodded slowly. “I’ve lived a long time, but I never thought I’d live to see the end of days.”
My breath caught.
“We won’t allow that to happen,” Zayne spoke up.
“No, I do not think you two will,” she said, and confusion rose as she curled gnarled fingers around the top of the baggie. “Not now at least.”
I glanced at Zayne and saw that his perplexed expression most likely matched mine. “I’m not really tracking what you’re saying.”
“I don’t suspect you will. Not for a very long time.”
Well, that statement sure didn’t clear anything up.
The Crone lifted the bag, holding it in one hand as she ran her fingers along the outline of the feather.
“You going to tell us what you plan to do with that feather?” I asked.
She looked over at me as she opened the baggie. “Nothing as dangerous as what you plan.”
“And what do you think I plan?” I countered.
“She has a long list of dangerous things,” Zayne tacked on, helpful as always.
The Crone only smiled. “Sometimes you got to raise a little Hell to get things done.”
25
Istared at her as tiny goose bumps broke out over my skin.
“Thank you for this,” she said, nodding at me and then Zayne as the man from the last time I’d been here appeared, still wearing a suit. He carried a champagne glass to the table and placed it front of the Crone. The liquid was a frothy pink.
“I told you that there are all manner of things that can be accomplished with a feather from one who has Fallen.” The Crone slipped said item from the bag. “Especially one who still carries grace within them. There is only one other