Grace and Glory (The Harbinger #3) - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,128

thank you.”

I offered the fry, anyway, squinting as I aimed for his mouth. “It’s tasty, salty goodness.” I poked the corner of his lip. “It wants to be eaten by you.”

“I doubt that fry is the only thing that wants to be eaten by me.”

My face flushed hot. “What a naughty thing to suggest.”

“Uh-huh.” Zayne caught my wrist, turning his head just the slightest. He took the fry, chewing slowly. “Happy?”

I nodded.

His eyes met mine, a vibrant blue luminous in the moonlight as his tongue flicked over the tips of my fingers, sweeping away the crystals of salt. “Tasty.”

“Yeah,” I whispered, stomach tightening deliciously low.

He kissed the pad of my finger, those burning eyes still holding mine. “I love you, Trinity.”

There was a catch in my breath and in my chest. I could never grow tired of hearing him say that. Ever. Each time he said it, it was like hearing it for the first time, as was the realization of how utterly wondrous it was to feel that deep and to know that kind of love was returned. And I knew I would do anything to protect that.

“I love you,” I whispered.

He tipped his head back, and I thought I saw a smile as he stared up at the sky. I followed his gaze as I chowed down on a handful of fries. All I saw was the glare of the moon and different shades of black.

“Are the stars out?” I asked, hoping that he would say no, but sort of already knowing what the answer would be.

“There’s a few of them. They’re bright.” Lowering his chin, he looked over at me. “You don’t see any of them?”

Shaking my head, I shoveled the remaining fries into my mouth.

“Have you seen them since that night?” Zayne fished a napkin out of the fast-food bag as I finished off the fries. “Switch?”

“Thank you.” I handed over the empty carton and took the napkin. “No. I haven’t.”

He was quiet for a moment and then took the balled napkin from me. “How’s your vision otherwise?”

“Pretty much the same, I guess.” Clasping the edge of the warm stone, I swung my feet. “I mean, I don’t ever notice exactly when my vision worsens. It’s usually so slow you can’t really pinpoint the change.”

“But it was getting harder to see the stars before then?”

“It was.” I stared down. Other than the streetlamps and the headlights of passing cars, there was nothing but a void of darkness. “It was strange, though—how I saw all the stars so perfectly clearly. If it was real, it makes me wonder if... I don’t know, like if my father had something to do with that?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt foolish, so I slurped half of my drink. “I know that sounds stupid—”

“No, it doesn’t.” He touched my arm first and then my cheek. “I think it’s possible. Your father knows about your vision. Like I said before, I think your father finds ways to show that he cares—ways that aren’t always obvious.”

I smiled faintly, lowering my drink. “It felt like a...like a gift.”

“It sounds like it was.” His thumb swept over the curve of my jaw. “I wish you could see them now.”

“So do I.” I looked over at him. “But I have the Constellation of Zayne.”

He smiled, and it amazed me how clear his features were now despite the lack of lighting and my eyes. Granted, someone with functional eyeballs could probably see him even better, but normally, his face would’ve just been an unfocused blur to me.

“We should get going,” he said. “We need—”

I knew he felt the presence of demons at the same moment I felt the pressure on the nape of my neck. I sat my drink on the ledge. “You see them?”

“Looking.” He took ahold of my hand, helping me stand as he turned to look over his shoulder. “Incoming.”

I pivoted on the ledge, squinting. Several man-shaped blurs passed under the moonlight, their skin a shiny onyx. There were four pairs of deep red eyes. That’s all I needed to see to know what I was dealing with.

“Hellions,” I groaned, hopping down on the thankfully flat roof. Forbidden topside, Hellions were created by pain and misery, and somehow, Gabriel had swayed way too many of them to his cause. “Let me guess, they’re naked.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Why are they always naked?” I asked, summoning my grace. With the lack of light, I wasn’t going to mess around with the daggers. The corners