they conquer,” I said as I tried to remember to put my clothes on in the correct order.
The Fever had a funny way of messing with your mind. For example, right now every instinct in my body was telling me I had it all backwards. I should be taking off my clothes, not putting them on.
“You’ll get no argument from me on that, Princess.”
I wasn’t sure if he was responding to my commentary on angels, or snooping around in my head again.
“I’d hardly call it snooping if you’re laying them all out on a tempting platter, begging me to take a bite,” he replied, doing his best to look offended.
Well, that answered that question. He was totally reading my mind.
“You could try not biting.”
“No.” His gaze locked on to my throat. “I cannot.”
My pulse skipped a beat. I grew a little dizzy.
“I can ignore your plea to read your thoughts no more easily than I can ignore the sizzling crackle of your feverish magic, luring me to your body.” He leaned in closer and whispered against my lips, “I’m hopelessly unable to resist your charms.”
“Damiel.”
He kissed my lips softly. “Yes, my love?”
“You’re using your siren magic on me again.”
He chuckled. “Not this time, Princess. This time it’s only words.” His hand brushed my cheek. “And a little touch here and there.”
My pulse wasn’t skipping beats now. It was galloping. A flush started on my cheeks, and from there traveled down my neck, over my chest, and to every tip of my body.
I looked at him, he kissed me, and we almost ended up right back where we’d started: naked in bed.
“We really have to go,” I said, pulling away.
“Fine, we’ll go.” His mouth was hard, bordering on a pout. “But first you need to open your gift.”
I took the jewelry box he held in his hands. We’d gotten distracted earlier, and I’d forgotten to open it. I remedied that oversight now, popping up the box’s lid. Inside, a gold pendant lay wrapped atop a piece of paper folded to resemble a swan.
“Is paper-folding another one of your new hobbies?” I asked him, brushing my fingers across his beautiful creation.
“Yes, I had—”
“A lot of time on your hands,” I finished for him.
He dipped his chin.
“What other skills have you picked up in the last two hundred years?”
Something dark—and a bit dangerous—flashed in his eyes. “You’ll just have to wait and see, Princess.” He lifted the pendant off the swan, then fastened it around my neck.
I looked down, fingering the rectangular, flat gold piece that hung from the matching chain. My finger caught on an edge, and I applied pressure to open the locket. Inside, I found a photo of Damiel, Nero, and me. I knew that photo. We’d had it taken just weeks before our deaths. It was a window into the past. We all looked so complete, so happy.
I looked up at Damiel, tears in my eyes. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. That’s only half of your present.” He tapped the jewelry box.
I poked around inside, but there was nothing else hidden in there. I looked up at Damiel.
“Try the swan,” he hinted.
I picked up the paper swan. It was such a shame to unfold his beautiful creation, but it seemed that was exactly what Damiel wanted me to do. Inside the paper, I found no ring or other jewelry. Instead, I found something far more precious.
“Your pancake recipe,” I said, nearly choking on the words. My eyes panned across the text penned on the paper in Damiel’s neat handwriting.
“As promised, albeit a couple hundred years overdue.”
I threw my arms around Damiel and pulled him to me. “They are the best gifts anyone has ever given me.”
My family, inside a pendant close to my heart. And Damiel’s recipe, a piece of who he truly was beneath all the leather, angel feathers, and cold-hard steel.
“Thank you.” I clutched him tightly and never wanted to let go.
After a while, he cleared his throat and declared, “Well, we’d best be going, love. The sooner we save the world, the sooner I’ll be back here alone with you, completely free to not give a damn about this world or any other.”
We teleported back into the airship’s dining room moments before the door opened and my father stepped inside. He looked at me. He looked at Damiel. And then my father, the legendary archangel warrior and Legion general Rhydian Silverstar, just sighed.
“Cadence, do inform your husband that the next time he sees fit to bite