stop, but the momentum of his swing was too great and all he could do was divert the sword’s course, swinging down away from my torso. The blade hit me in the upper thigh. I heard an inhuman scream, then felt the sound ripping from my own throat as the pain—the indescribable pain—tore through me. I pitched forward. Trsiel dove to catch me. The sword clattered to the floor.
As I fell, I blacked out, coming to only as another flash of agony knifed through me. Trsiel’s arms tightened around me as he lowered me to the floor. His mouth opened, but I heard only the sound of my own screaming. Behind him, the Nix was running—not at us, but off to our side. I blinked, then comprehension hit.
“Trsiel,” I gasped. “Sword. She—”
He shot up just as the Nix dove for the sword. Too late to grab it, Trsiel kicked it aside and threw himself at the Nix. He caught her by the shoulders and they went down.
I struggled to focus on them, but pain pulsed through me, each throb bringing a split-second blackout. I fought to stay conscious. Across the room. Trsiel almost had the Nix pinned, but she wriggled out of his grip, rolled, then darted toward the sword. Trsiel took her down again.
I forced my body to turn, and tried to see the sword through the flashes of darkness. There! By the door. Biting my lip, I managed to push up on all fours, then stumbled toward it. When I was still a few feet away, I felt my limbs tremor, threatening to give way. I threw myself forward, onto the sword. I felt the heat of it burn through my shirt. Then everything went dark.
I awoke in something like a bed, soft and comfortable. Trsiel leaned over me. I struggled to sit, but white-hot pain forced me down again.
“Nix,” I whispered.
“Gone,” he said. “She teleported out as soon as I had a good hold on her.”
“Amulet. Found—”
“It’s right here.”
“Good. Wh—” I gasped as fresh pain ripped through me.
Trsiel’s arms went around me, one sliding under me, and his hands moved up to my neck. I gasped again. His hands were nearly as hot as the sword. As soon as his fingers touched my skin, the pain ebbed. He massaged the back of my neck, and I slowly relaxed into the bed as the pain gave way to soft waves of soothing heat. I felt myself drifting toward sleep, only dimly aware that he was talking. I struggled to listen, but could make out only the hypnotic sound of his voice as he reverted to his angelic tone.
“Better?” he whispered.
“Ummm. Getting better.”
A soft chuckle. “I’ll keep at it, then.” His voice sobered. “I can’t tell you how sorry—”
“S’okay.”
I stretched, then lifted my head and looked around. I was lying on a divan. He’d pulled up a chair beside it. Both were big chunky pieces, postmodern furniture, more comfortable than they looked. Two more chairs flanked a fireplace, and another two were by a window overlooking a cityscape. Art gallery and museum posters decorated the walls. Across the room was a floor-to-ceiling bookcase, crammed to overflowing, with books shoved into every space and more piled on the floor underneath. On my right, magazines covered a low-slung table.
“Your room?” I said.
He nodded. “Not much like the other angel quarters, is it?”
I picked up a copy of Entertainment Weekly. “Not much.”
His cheeks heated.
“I’m teasing you,” I said. “Your room is much nicer. That other one? Kinda creepy.”
He gave a soft laugh. I continued flipping through the stack of magazines. Some, like Time and National Geographic, I recognized. Others, I wasn’t even sure what language they were written in.
“I suppose this answers the question,” he said, sweeping a hand around the room. “Though I’m sure you already knew it.”
“Hmm?”
“What Dantalian meant. About me. His…insults. You said you didn’t know what he meant, but I know you do.”
I flipped onto my back and looked up at him. “That you’re part human. Or so he says.”
“He’s right. Which you also know. Not that I can prove it.” He swept a lock of my hair off the pillow, fingers sliding to the end, his gaze fixed on this diversion as he continued, “I told you I’m from the last group of full-bloods. The Creator—He saw problems with the older ones, the first angels and even the seconds. As the world grew, they couldn’t keep up. They went from thousands of years of watching over hunters