Grace and Glory (The Harbinger #3) - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,24
right now or how in the Hell I’m supposed to stop him before the Transfiguration.”
“Or stay alive until then,” Peanut commented.
Biting down into the bar, I shot him a dark look.
“What?”
“That didn’t help,” I said around a mouthful of granola and chocolate.
“I’m just donning my Captain Obvious hat, okay? I know it’s not helpful, but I don’t even know how to be helpful. Oh! Wait. Maybe I could ask the other ghosts if they’ve seen him.” He pitched forward, halfway into the island.
Sighing, I stared down at the crumbs and my darkest fears sort of spilled out of me. “I have no idea where he is, if he’s even in the city still. What he’s doing or if it’s too late.”
“He has to be in the city,” Peanut stated. “And it can’t be too late. Don’t even think that. It won’t help you or him.”
I didn’t respond at first to the surprisingly calm and measured response from the ghost. Finally I nodded. “I know, but it’s kind of hard not to think like that. It’s impossible to not think about finding him and having to fight him for real. Not because he’s strong, but...”
“But because you love him,” he said quietly.
I nodded. “I can’t...” Inhaling sharply through my nose, I tried again. “I can’t even think about what it will be like to use the Sword of Michael on him, even if it does work.”
A couple of moments passed, and Peanut asked, “What are you going to do? Don’t answer that. You already know what you have to do. You have to find him.” He reached out, placing his hand over mine, where it rested on the gray-and-white marble. His hand went through mine, leaving a wave of goose bumps behind.
“I know.” And I did. “But if it doesn’t work—if I do it and it kills him—”
“If that is what happens, you know, deep down, it will be the right thing. It will hurt like Hell. It will hurt worse than getting electrocuted, and I would know. But Zayne...he shouldn’t be bad. That’s not who he is. He’s rare. He’s a good guy. Like too good for you.”
I laughed, because it was true.
“But you have to try, Trinnie.”
I started to respond as I glanced down at where his hand was over mine. It was no longer sunken into the marble. It was above mine, like normal, and I must not have gotten enough sleep, because I swore I could... I could feel his hand. That was impossible, but there was a cool touch that really felt solid. Tangible. Slowly, I lifted my gaze to his.
“You need to find Zayne. You need to take care of him,” he said, and for a moment, he was fully corporeal. It was almost like he was any living, breathing person sitting next to me, and he didn’t look...like Peanut to me. His skin was almost...luminous, and his eyes were too bright, almost as if there was a white light behind them. “And then, after that, you need to stop the Harbinger. If not, none of this will matter. Not now and not even upon death.”
7
Hours after my conversation with Peanut, I still had the jitters. Even as I hit the streets with Dez later that afternoon and well into the night, I couldn’t shake the feeling. It wasn’t that Peanut said anything I didn’t already know, but there was just something about the way he said it.
Or about him that was just different.
But seconds later, he’d been back to his bizarre yet normal self.
Rubbing my right hand, I resisted the urge to kick a nearby trash can as Dez and I came to an intersection. At this point, it felt like we’d walked every block in the city. I also fought the urge to check my phone, which I had been doing every ten minutes it felt like.
I’d tried getting ahold of Cayman that afternoon, calling the number he’d texted from, more than once, but there’d been no answer. Based on how everyone first reacted to the news about Zayne, I figured that was not something I needed to text. But he hadn’t called back. He hadn’t even returned my text.
Of course, my mind immediately had gone to the worst-case scenario. Zayne had somehow found Cayman, did something fallen-angel terrible, and I was going to be sad, because I liked the dumb demon. Layla was going to be really sad, and then Roth was going to want to kill—