Grace and Glory (The Harbinger #3) - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,157

and God... God had done something glorious, and I...

“Trinnie,” came the voice again. One I realized I recognized. “I’m staring at you. Watching you.”

Peanut.

What did I tell him about watching me while I slept?

But that didn’t make sense. Peanut hadn’t been there, and I couldn’t be asleep. Not technically. Maybe figuratively. Semantics didn’t really matter right now.

I died.

I freaking died.

Anger pounded through my body. That bastard, psychotic archangel had actually managed to kill me. I was dead and Zayne was alive—oh my God, Zayne. Pressure clamped down on my chest, strangling me. He’d been there, holding me so I wasn’t alone, and now he was there and I was...well, I was wherever I was. I was dead.

“Trinity!” Peanut shouted.

My eyes flew open, and a strangled gasp left me. Peanut’s freaking transparent face was right there, mere inches from mine.

“What the Hell?” I exclaimed, starting to sit up. I pushed my hands down, planting them in...in something soft and dry. Not damp grass.

I blinked several times as Peanut drifted out of the line of my sight. Confusion swirled through me as I realized I was staring up at the muted glow of the Constellation of Zayne.

I was lying in our bed.

The corners of my lips turned down. “Peanut?” I said hoarsely.

“Yes,” he answered from wherever he was.

“Am I in our apartment?”

“You are.”

What in the what?

Sitting up, I looked around our bedroom. Peanut hovered to the left, in midair, his legs crossed. To the right of me, the bedside lamp was on. The worn, tattered copy of my mother’s favorite book sat on the nightstand. I reached over, running my fingers over the soft cover. Was I...was I a ghost? Was that why I was here? That sort of made sense. I sure as Hell wasn’t ready to move on, and the recently...departed often returned to places they were comfortable. My heart skipped in my chest—

Wait.

I pressed the same hand against my chest, feeling my heart beat unsteadily. If I died and was now a ghost, would I feel my heartbeat? Would I be able to feel anything?

My head swung toward Peanut.

He waved at me.

“I can feel the bed. I felt the book,” I told him, and then thumped my hand off my chest. I winced. That hurt my boob—that actually hurt. Ghosts felt pain? Oh God, if so, how in the Hell did Peanut let himself float through ceiling fans and stuff? “I can feel my heart.”

His brows lifted. “I would hope so.”

I stared at him. “Can you feel your heart?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“How is that a stupid question?” I demanded. “I’m dead. I died, Peanut. I’m superdead, and if I’m a ghost, how can I feel my—”

“You’re not a ghost,” he cut me off. “You’re not dead.”

I stared at him.

He stared back at me.

I stared at him some more. Probably for a good full minute before I could even process what he’d just said, and even then, I didn’t understand. At all. “How?” I whispered. “How am I not dead?” I looked around the room again, just to make sure it was still the bedroom. It was. “How am I here?”

“Well, it’s kind of a convoluted story,” he said.

I scrambled to my knees. “Try to make sense of the story, then.” Zayne’s face suddenly filled my mind, and I started for the edge of the bed. “You know what. It doesn’t matter. I need to find Zayne. He has to be—”

“Beside himself?” Peanut suggested. “His heart so broken that he demanded that Lucifer bring you back?”

I froze as my eye shot to where he floated.

“And when Lucifer explained to him that giving life was beyond him, that he is not the keeper of souls, he demanded that Azreal himself answer to him,” Peanut continued, but there...there was something a whole lot wrong with his voice, and not just the fact that he’d referred to Grim by his angelic name, which was weird all on its own. It had...strengthened, becoming less airy. Gone was the singsongy way he normally spoke.

“Azreal didn’t answer, because he knew there was no reason to. There was nothing he could do. You were beyond him.”

The tiny hairs all over my body rose. “You’re starting to creep me out, Peanut.”

His head tilted to the side. “I think you’re going to be way more creeped out by the time this conversation is finished.”

Skin pimpling, I stood so that the bed separated us. “What’s going on?”

It could’ve just been my wacky eyes, but the window behind him seemed less