icicle in my chest. And I know you’re not afraid of me or for yourself. You’re too much of a badass. You’re afraid for me, and you don’t need to be. You know why?”
“Why?” I whispered.
Zayne looked at me then, his gaze unflinching. “You’re strong, and you’re a damn good warrior. I might be your Protector in some instances, but when we fight, I’m your partner. I know you’re not going to put my ass in a sling because you’re not holding your own. There’s no way I can fall with you beside me, and no one will best you with me beside you. So, get those fears out of your head.”
Air lodged in my throat. That was possibly the nicest thing anyone had ever said about me. I sort of wanted to hug him. I didn’t, though, managing to keep my hands and arms to myself. “I like it when you say I’m a badass.”
That got a grin. “Not remotely surprised to hear that.”
“Does this mean you’re finally going to admit I beat you and won that day in the training room back at the Community?” I asked.
“Come on now. I’m not going to lie to make you feel better about yourself.”
I laughed as I gathered up my hair, twisting the thick length. “Are we going patrolling tonight?”
Patrolling was what Wardens did to keep the demon populace in check, but that wasn’t the kind I was talking about. We were looking for a certain demon and a creature we had no idea what to call other than the Harbinger.
He paused. “I was thinking we could just chill for the night. Take it easy.”
Take it easy with Zayne? A huge part of me jumped at that, but the fact I wanted to do it as badly as I did was a clear indication it should be the last thing I did.
“I think we should look for the Harbinger,” I said. “We need to find it.”
“We do, but is one night going to make a difference?”
“Knowing our luck? Yes.”
A quick grin appeared and then disappeared. “You sure you’re up for it? Yesterday...”
I tensed. “Yesterday was yesterday. I’m up for it. Are you?”
“Always,” he murmured. Then louder he said, “We’ll patrol tonight.”
“Good.”
He refocused on the screen. “Found something. It’s an article dated back in January in the Washington Post where Fisher talks about acquiring funding for a school for chronically ill children. I quote, ‘This school will become a place of joy and learning, where sickness does not define the individual and disease does not determine the future.’ And then he talks about how there will be medical staff on-site, along with counselors and a state-of-the-art rehab facility.”
“It can’t be real, right? That he’s building a school for sick kids? Like a demonic St. Jude’s?” Sickened, all I could do was stare at the words I couldn’t see clearly enough to read. “Using ill children as a cover? Man, that is like a whole new level of evilness.”
“Well, wait until you hear this.” Zayne sat back, crossing his arms. “He says the entire proposal and plan are in honor of his wife, who passed away after a long battle with cancer.”
“God. I’m not sure which part of that is worse.”
“They’re equally terrible.” He glanced at me. “It says he’s already acquired the land for this school, so it’s interesting that Gideon hasn’t found a record of it yet. Makes you wonder why that’s not easily findable public information.”
I took a drink of my Coke. “I can’t believe this is real. That he really is building a school. Like, why, because I sincerely doubt it’s for the betterment of anyone.”
“Agreed. Most messed-up part? People could use a school like this, and there will be no shortage of people willing to be involved.” That was a terrifying truth. “My imagination can come up with a million different terrible motives behind this, especially since he’s linked to Bael and the Harbinger.”
And all of them—Bael, Aym, the Harbinger—led back to Misha.
Which was why I needed to get out there and find Bael and this Harbinger. That was imperative. Not just because the Harbinger was hunting Wardens and demons, or because my father had warned us that the Harbinger was a sign of the end times, but also because it was personal.
Misha had said that the Harbinger had chosen him, and I needed to know why...why he’d been chosen, why he’d gone along with it all. I needed to know why he’d done what he had.