Grace and Glory (The Harbinger #3) - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,78

this flash of intense light. Never seen something so bright before.” A far-off look crept into his expression, but he didn’t take his gaze off me. Actually, he hadn’t for more than a few moments, and I wondered if it was because he was feeling the same as me. Like, deep down, he couldn’t believe we were here. Together. “The light receded pretty quickly, and when it did, I was in some kind of building.”

“A building? Instead of clouds?” I sighed. “I am so disappointed.”

A grin appeared. “I eventually saw clouds.”

I clasped my hands under my chin. “With angels resting on them?”

Cayman snorted.

Zayne laughed. “You’re going to be really disappointed, but just normal clouds in the sky.”

He was right, but I was still curious. “Heaven has a sky with clouds in it?” When he nodded, my nose wrinkled. “Are you sure you really were in Heaven?”

“I’m really curious as to what you think Heaven looks like,” Cayman admitted.

Before I could launch into my vivid and overly detailed description of cloud cities, Zayne cut in. “I was definitely in Heaven.”

I eyed him. “How can you be sure?”

“This is going to sound crazy, but it was how the air felt—like the perfect temperature. Not hot. Not cold. The right amount of humidity. It was how the place sounded, like a spring morning. It was the smell. The whole place smelled like...”

Wondering what Heaven smelled like to him, I leaned forward.

Zayne cleared his throat as his lashes lowered. “It smelled amazing,” he said, and I sat back, bummed he hadn’t shared. “And the building I was in was like a coliseum, and I’m pretty sure it was constructed of gold.”

“Like the whole thing?”

“Yep.”

“Damn,” Cayman murmured, shoving another handful of carb-rich goodness into his mouth. “God spares no expense.”

I wondered if a demon should learn any details about Heaven, but I figured if there was an issue, Zayne wouldn’t be talking so openly about it.

“I could see the clouds through the opening in the roof, by the way,” Zayne added. “If it makes you feel better, the sky was an incredible shade of blue and the clouds appeared fluffy.”

“Like your eyes,” I said. “The color of the sky, that is.”

The grin reappeared. “At first I was confused. I knew I was in Heaven. I knew that in my bones, but I was...surprised to find myself there.”

Obviously Zayne thought that because he was missing a part of his soul, thanks to Layla. That was water under a bridge that had been burned down, but there was no stopping the spike of anger that followed any thoughts of how badly Zayne had been wounded by Layla, even though it was before we’d even met. It wasn’t like I held that against her or anything.

Okay. I kind of did, but I was working on getting over that and being an overall better person.

I just needed a whole lot of improvement on both of those fronts.

“I wasn’t alone. Took me a couple of moments to realize that someone was there with me—behind me.” Zayne leaned back, his head tilted toward me. “It was your father.”

19

I didn’t think I heard him right at first. “Really? My father?”

“Yes.”

I was stuck in disbelief for several moments before acknowledging that it had been my father who had finally corrected a destiny that had gone off the rails, not only for Zayne and I, but also for Misha. That thought of my old Protector, my friend, still brought a wealth of pain. I would never completely get over his betrayal or how I’d been so wrapped up in myself that I’d missed how unhappy Misha had been.

But it made sense that Michael, my father, would be there. Zayne had been my Protector when he...when he died. My initial shock showed I wasn’t thinking about his presence correctly. I was attributing it to some kind of fatherly obligation—something that he knew nothing about, even if the Throne claimed that my father had faith in me.

I made sure my voice was level when I asked, “Was it him who told you about who the Wardens were originally?”

“Basically, and yeah, that was a shock, but first he made sure I knew how incredibly disappointed he was that I’d already, as he put it, ‘gotten myself killed.’”

“What an asshole!” I exclaimed, wishing my father was in front of me so I could punt-kick him in the freaking face.

“Have you met an archangel that wasn’t one?” Cayman asked.

“Since I’ve only met two, no.” I folded my arms over