Reign of Night (Thorne Hill #7) - Emily Goodwin Page 0,1

suddenly appearing or the fact that Michael’s wings are stretched out behind him.

“I wanted to get you away,” Michael says as his wings fold and disappear from sight. He looks out at the ocean, and the clear blue sky matches his eyes.

“Why? Was I in danger? Lucas and Kristy are still—”

“They will be fine,” Michael says in a voice so calm I almost believe him. “My brother is still with them.”

“Lucifer,” I shoot back. “You mean Lucifer is still with them.” I pull my arms in around myself, swallowing hard. “You…you trust him?”

“No,” Michael replies right away. “I do not, but I do trust that he will not hurt you.”

“I’m not following,” I say as I shake my head and let out a breath. “I just want to go home, back to Lucas. Please, take me home. I’m scared,” I admit.

“Don’t be.”

“How can you say that? There is a dead angel in my yard. I’m fucking terrified!” I throw my hands out right as a mom and her two young children walk by, giving me the side-eye. I close my eyes and tip my head up, trying to compose myself. “Aren’t you?”

Michael stops walking, shoulders sagging just a bit before he turns around to face me.

“I am sorry, Callie. But trust that it won’t always be like this.”

“How else will it be?”

Michael looks out at the ocean again, not answering. I slowly inhale, as his silence is telling. There is no other way. I was born from light and dark. My life shouldn’t be, and the fact that I was even born is a miracle in itself…which feels like a slap in the fucking face. Miracles are supposed to be good. A gift from God. Yet here I am, a world away from those I love, unsure of what lies ahead of me.

“This isn’t what your mother would have envisioned, that’s for sure.” He turns back and looks at me, blue eyes clouded with sadness. “We would sit and talk for hours…your mother and I,” he starts, trailing off as emotion threatens to take over. “We’d talk about you and how we were excited to see you grow up. Your mother knew you’d have powers just like her. Her familiar took the form of a cat, you know.”

More tears spring to my eyes, and my throat tightens. “Really?”

“Really.” Michael holds out his hand. “Walk with me, daughter?”

“Will you tell me more about my mother?”

“Of course.”

I extend my hand and curl my fingers around Michael’s. We head down the shore, and it’s only then I realize I’m getting weird looks. But it’s not because Michael and I suddenly appeared on the beach, but because I’m dressed for a Midwest winter, not a day on the beach in western Australia. I unzip my coat as we walk, and I look out at the crystal-clear ocean, wishing I could come back here with Lucas—only, he won’t be able to walk along the sunny shore with me.

“She loved you,” Michael assures me. “From the moment we found out she was expecting. There was nothing she wanted more than to be your mother.”

“And because of me, that didn’t happen.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Callie. Your mother knew from the start there were risks. And yet she chose you.”

One hand lands on my stomach on its own accord. My own baby was the last thing I ever expected. Lucas wasn’t supposed to be able to get me pregnant, yet here I am, and I already feel so strongly for this little life growing inside of me. I’d give up my own life for our child with no hesitation. But would Lucas let me? I’m not sure…and making him choose between his wife and his child…I don’t even want to think about it.

“Did she know?” I start, words coming out strangled. “At the end…did she know she wasn’t going to make it?”

Michael’s eyes fill with sorrow. “She did. And I tried, Callie, believe me, I tried everything. I loved your mother, don’t ever doubt that.”

“I…I don’t,” I say honestly. There’s no question of the pain in Michael’s eyes. “And I think—I mean, I know—she loved you, too.”

A small smile plays on his lips. “I like to think so, though I want you to know, I didn’t feel worthy of her love.” He looks back out at the horizon again. “The world wasn’t worthy of her,” he says softly, and I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or himself.

“How…how did you meet her?” I ask, heart beating faster and