18 14| Clare

Luca leaned forward, a paintbrush clasped between his teeth, eyebrows drawn together in concentration. Shirtless in front of the canvas, every so often he brushed the canvas in long, broad strokes. We were both supposed to be pouring through journals and religious works, but only I had every book surrounding me in the middle of the floor while he painted. I alternated between a book on angelology and a book with the angel Gabriel on the front of it but a list of names in the rest of it, dating back a few hundred years.

Yawning, I closed Gabriel's book. There had to be something else in it besides the endless list of names that lasted about fifteen pages. It looked like whole family lineages, but why did it matter? Names weren't about to help me find a way to save myself, my cousin, and the world.

The only reason I had made it far in either book was because I had been avoiding having a talk with Luca. It was on the tip of his tongue to talk about, and I didn't want to bring it up.

We really needed to talk, though. He had told me he loved me, and I had sniffled into his chest, unable to say it back. I had thought it really hard, though, and he could read minds. I also wanted an explanation on why he had erased my memory, but we had bigger fish to fry; and, it was peaceful right now. I sucked at confrontations and arguments. I was a cry baby

Chloe had been right. Luca did love me. Wait until I told her.

But later. Later for telling Chloe, and later for talking to Luca, too.

"You're supposed to be reading too," I stated, looking at him, enjoying the sight of him shirtless. His abs were to die for, perfectly sculpted, and not too much. "But you're painting."

He removed the paintbrush from his mouth with his free hand, not looking up for the easel. "You're supposed to be reading, too," he repeated, slashing a broad stroke with green paint on the canvas. "But you're looking at my chest." He smiled briefly before going back to his canvas.

"It's a nice chest." He had only been shirtless around me before, but I hadn't wanted to get caught ogling. I didn't care now, though. Trying not to seem creepy, I looked at his face instead. Yep, he still had the same square jawline, high cheekbones, and crooked nose. "Your nose is crooked."

He made a 'hmm' noise in his throat. "Are you pointing out my few flaws to avoid talking about your feelings?"

Yes. "No." Unfortunately, he really did have only a few flaws. His crooked nose was one of them. His other flaw was a weird pinky nail that had apparently been like that since birth. The rest were personality flaws in my opinion, although he disagreed.

"You're lying, Clare."

Oh, right, he could read minds.

"And before you think I'm reading your mind—" he paused, putting both the brush and the paint tray down on the table and looking up at me with a smirk—"please remember that I've spent enough time with you to notice that your nose twitches when you lie."

I frowned. "No, it doesn't." My nose, betraying me, twitched. I crossed my arms over my chest.

Luca's smirk grew more pronounced. "Clare, you don't have to tell me you love me back unless you're ready." He definitely wanted me to say it back, and I definitely wanted to say it back.

If I said it now, though, it would feel less authentic. I wanted to say it naturally, and I wanted to say it after we had discussed him wiping my memories. "That's not what I'm avoiding," I responded, not meeting his eye. "Hey, why doesn't Angelo and Kela's name start with the letter of their sins?"

"Clare."

"Answer my question, and I'll answer yours."

"I didn't ask a question." Lust crossed his arms over his chest. "Is it because I'm a demon? Do you not trust me?"

Jesus, just read my mind, I thought. It would be a lot easier if he just saw what I was thinking instead of making me spell it out. Saying it out loud was… vulnerable. I snorted humorlessly. "Answer me first."

This time, he snorted. "Fine. They changed their names. Now answer my question."

"It's not that you're a demon. I don't care about that." I sighed. "I care that you lied to me."

The last part I mumbled, but his super-hearing picked it up anyway. "Ah." Luca uncrossed his arms. "Presumably, you're also upset that I wiped your memories along with lying to you."

I nodded, even though I wasn't really upset anymore. I bounced between being ecstatic at his love declaration and irritated at his lies. What else could I feel about the one person that could keep me alive? If I was angry with him, what would it solve besides sending me to an early grave?

"Technically, I didn't lie to you. I just didn't tell you I was a demon—which, while important to know, isn't a first date conversation. Or a second."

"It's not a third either," I added, rolling my eyes. I understood the need to keep that a secret. "You didn't technically erase my memories, though."

He shrugged. "But, in its exact definition, technically means 'according to the facts or exact meaning of something.' Erase means 'to remove all traces.' You got your memories back, often without my help. Even when you didn't remember, you had a feeling, which is definitely a trace, so I—"

"Luca." I pressed my lips together tightly to stop the smile from appearing.

He smirked.

After picking me up from the club, Luca brought me back to the dorm. We hadn't said anything, but he had given me a kiss on the forehead. This morning, I woke up to a call, asking me to come over. Bella had grumbled, I thought you were done with him, before rolling back over and pulling the blanket over her head. I most definitely wasn't done with him.

I never would be, so long as we both lived.

I had every intention of reading him his rights, but once I saw him, I chickened out. We made small talk, him telling me about the books. When we arrived at his house, he pulled off his shirt and started painting. I started doing research. For the past two hours, we hadn't said much, except when I needed clarification on something I read.

"I erased your memory because I was trying to protect you—and I was scared," he said. "You were so worried about Mother, and it was making you afraid. Then you were so scared of me. I panicked—each time I panicked. Hillary finally convinced me to tell you."

Who is Hillary? I tried to tamper down the jealousy, but it reared its head anyway. I was okay with his past sexual encounters—and there were hundreds of them—but Hillary was someone he was communicating with now.

Luca grinned. "Hillary is not a threat, Clare."

"I wasn't worried about her." I wasn't.

"Uh-huh." He returned to his painting. "Is there anything else you want to get off of your chest?" This time he used purple paint and a skinnier brush, using thin, swift strokes.

While he had answered my question, I still hadn't liked his response. Protect me? How did having me think I was going crazy protected me? Making Mother a real threat, while terrifying, was a better option than me believing I was going insane. And what he did to my memories—the headaches I received, the constant reliving of each emotion time and time again. That wasn't protection.

"You were afraid."

He paused but didn't look at me. "It was weak, and I'm sorry." He meant it, I knew he did, but the anger remains regardless. "Clare, I don't want to lose you."

"You took the decision away from me." My voice was clipped. If he so much as blinked the wrong way, I'd explode. "You don't get to say you wiped my memories so you wouldn't lose me. You don't get to make that decision for me, Luca."

"Clare, I—"

"I don't care about your explanations," I continued, giving him a murderous look. My fingers clenched and unclenched as I struggled to contain my anger. Underneath my skin, it was molten lava, crackling, and bubbling, ready to be released. "If I decide to leave right now and never look at you again, that's my choice. You can't use your powers because you don't want to lose me."

What had I expected, after all? He was a demon. His whole personality was built on sin, doing the unthinkable to get what he wanted. And what he wanted was me.

Clench, unclench. Clench, unclench.

His face paled. "If you died, it would be the end of me, Clare. I knew that from the moment I laid eyes on you."

Liar, liar, liar, I chanted in my head. His pleading voice did nothing to soothe the eruption coming forward. Should I leave before I said something I regretted? Should I stay and say it anyway? He was owed every bad thing I could think of to hurtle at him. "Don't pretend like you were acting in my best interest, Luca. Be honest with me."

He hadn't done it because he wanted to keep me safe. He did it because he wanted to keep me near him.

"You finally found someone good, and you couldn't face yourself in the mirror," I snapped, advancing toward him. "You couldn't live with the feeling of not measuring up. You knew I deserved better, so every time you thought I would leave because of it, you made me forget. Under the guise of 'protecting me.'"

He swallowed, but he made no move toward me. In fact, he remained completely still. Even the paint on the end of the brush stayed in its little bubble, refusing to drop. "Yes," he agreed, voice calm and unflinching. "I regret that I did it, Clare. I regret it and every consequence that stemmed from it. If I had the choice to do it all over again, I wouldn't. Not at the expense of hurting you."

Such pretty words. Such kind, loving words meant to soothe me. "Why?" I asked, but I didn't know what I wanted him to answer.

He looked away then, toward the window where a bird flitted. Cars passed by his house. Someone honked. A dog barked. Neighbors laughed. All in the tense silence while we both had a conversation that could make or break us.

I don't want it to break us.

His eyes flew to mine. Me either. He didn't say it to me so much as I felt it.

"You are an angel, Clare. You are caring and empathetic. You walk dogs and take your baby sister out for hot dogs. You treat everybody you meet with the same love and attention. You are special," he explained, putting the paintbrush down. He took a deep breath before expanding. "I'm a demon. Literally. I have killed, stole, fought, swore, and did horrible things for the sake of doing them. I am impulsive and terrible.

"I fell in love many times over the century, with a new woman every few months it seemed, but none of them felt like it does with you. God, they weren't really good women either, and I'm willing to bet half of them at least ended up in hell…" He chuckled to himself, lost in some memory. "When I met you, when I saw you laugh, when I saw the way you treated people, it made me want to… do better, I guess. Becoming a better person was the easy part.

"Accepting that you loved me was the hard part. When you first found out, you reacted with such fear that I—that I immediately wiped your memories. You found out by accident. I told myself I would tell you, ease you into my secret. I always chickened out. Each and every time I chickened out, telling myself I was protecting you when I was really protecting me." He buried his face into his hands with a shaky breath. "It was selfish and manipulative, but I couldn't do it—couldn't face losing you."

I took a slow, deep breath to steady myself.

I couldn't stay angry with anyone, most of all him.

"Fine, I forgive you," I said softly, pulling his hands away from his face. I tilted my chin up, meeting his eyes. "For the record, I would've never left you. I liked you entirely too much way back then."

He chuckled, not without humor but also not with it. In relief. He pressed his forehead against mine. "Unfortunately, in lieu of what's coming, my transgressions will soon be water under the bridge."

I didn't bother to tell him that they already were. "What's coming?

"Close your eyes," he commanded, putting his fingertips on mine. "It won't hurt."

I huffed, keeping my eyes open and on his. "I didn't think it would." I laced my fingers through his tightly. I could stay like this forever, skin to skin. A different kind of intimacy. Seeing someone fully and completely, through flaws and all.

Luca snorted a laugh. "You're snappy today, Clare. I don't think I like it." He sounded amused, though, and it brought a smile flickering across my face. "Anyway, eyes closed, it'll be easier this way."

Curious I closed my eyes, hoping he wouldn't do something like kiss me—not that I minded— and waited.

"Besides reading minds and controlling them, I have some parlor tricks up my sleeve," Luca said. I was aware of all the sounds in the house—low, low jazz music playing a few feet away from a speaker, a bird chirping outside of his window, a car hitting a pothole on the road in front of his house, my heart in my chest, his even breathing. "I can let you in my mind, too. Here's what Hillary saw if something happens to you or Athena."

For a second, nothing.

Then there was chaos.

Chaos was maybe too calm a word for what I saw. It implied chaos when, in fact, the world had gone to complete shit. I wasn't sure what I expected the end of the world to look like—maybe fires and dark skies—but it didn't look like that at all. The sky remained light blue, not a single cloud in the sky. The grass was full and green, and the wind whistled through it, caressing each blade with the last inkling of care this world had.

The birds chirped frantically, warning of danger that had already come. A cat zipped across the road before getting hit by an 18-wheeler. A person walked out of his house, knocked on his neighbor's door, and shot him in the fact. Miles away, someone was unloading their gun in a doctor's office, his eyes rolled back to his head, clearly possessed. A demon beat three children senseless. Someone got their arm sawed off by a member of their household. In another state, a fire burned through eight cities. A country prepared to bomb small towns with nuclear weapons by a demon pretending to be their leader. A baby screamed. Someone hit it with a bat, shutting it up permanently.

Blood, too—lots of it. In the roads, sinking underneath the grass, traveling into the waters. The rivers, the edges of the ocean, all of it was beginning to be lined with blood, traveling to where Mother was—in a throne in the middle of the sea, built on bones.

Thousands of demons ran around, slaughtering innocent people underneath a bright sky. Women fell, holding their children. Men died with their arms around loved ones. Two parents attempted to fight back, and the demon snapped their neck, letting their child watch. A demon pulled out his heart next. The child died with a perfect 'o' of surprise. Laughing, the demon stuffed the heart into his mouth. Blood dripped down his arm, and he licked it off his fingertips before looking straight ahead as if he knew we watched.

A smile curled across his bloodied lips, and I pulled away from Luca to throw up.

I emptied my guts, tears streaming down my face. I tried to apologize for throwing up in his room, but I kept seeing that child with his heart being ripped out. Something about the way he looked at the end—surprised, not horrified—made me spiral.

The feelings associated with the vision, the death, the destruction, it was unexplainable.

Luca still had his hand wrapped around my hair. His other hand stroked my back, soft, gentle strokes. "That's not the worst of it." He blew out a deep breath, helping me sit up. Both of his arms went around me, holding me against his chest.

"I don't want to live in that world." If I could even survive in a place like that. What would be the point of living that way? Always in fear.

"And you won't. I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you don't," he whispered into my ear. He kissed the side of my head, my temple, my cheeks, and the top of my head. "Do you use coconut shampoo?"

I rolled my eyes and pulled away from him, pushing those images deep, deep down inside. "So how do your powers work?"

While he spoke, he followed me into the kitchen just to nudge me out of the way and grab the mop and bucket for himself.

Luca gave me a final, serious look, making sure I was okay before answering. "If I choose to, I can ignore people's thoughts. Otherwise, I hear everybody's voice, but it sounds like a blur until I decide to focus on one person," he explained. "I can only hear current thoughts when I'm listening like that. If I want to know something specific, I either ask them, or I dig around in their mind to make them think of it. Not always a guarantee."

I paused. So can you read my mind now?

"I don't read minds on purpose. It's like eavesdropping—you never hear good about yourself."

I smirked. "So other people notice your flaws, too?"

"You think you're the first person to notice my crooked nose?" he teased. "But, no, people are sick, disgusting creatures—and that's coming from a demon. I hear all the twisted things people do, and it makes me ill. Unless, of course, they're broadcasting their thoughts to me."

Luca! I thought.

He chuckled, but he still looked like he was listening to something far away. "Yes, Clare?"

"Just making sure it works."

"The actual broadcasting doesn't have to be saying my name or trying to get my attention—sometimes if the emotion tied to the thought is strong enough, I'll hear it," he continued. He returned the mop to the kitchen while I pressed on, curious.

"Does the distance matter at all?"

"The more I know someone, the farther away they can be. My siblings, for example no matter where they are in the world, I can hear them." He turned to me, his blue eyes clouded with irritation. "The same with you, although that has less to do with how well I know you and more about this thing between us."

The thing between us? Until he asked me to be his girlfriend, we had no thing between us. "Oh." I didn't add to my statement. I really didn't want to know how he felt about making us a real thing. I mean, I did, but at what cost? If my feelings ended up getting hurt, I would walk out of here and hand myself to Mother on a silver platter, the fate of the world be damned.

"Mind control has to be done up close and personal. I can command anybody to do anything. Except, apparently, take their asses home." He stood up, walking out of the dining room and toward the front of the house, his shoulders tense.

Did I follow or…

C'mon, Clare. Luca's voice surprised me enough that I jumped. It came from within my mind. We were communicating telepathically. It was just as cool as it sounded. Luca answered my thoughts with an echoing chuckle. Are you coming or not?

I didn't respond but went the same path as him, out of the door and hooking a left toward the front door/living room. We had been in the back room, which had big windows that allowed for sunlight to stream through, and it overlooked a pool in his backyard, along with a well-manicured lawn and garden. His house was so pristine and perfect, I felt like even running my hands along the asylum-white walls would mess it up, so I kept them to myself, walking slowly and listening for… whatever.

Company, Luca told me. And you can touch the walls as much as you want.

I hadn't even heard anybody—

Knock, knock.

Luca sighed irritably, and I entered the living room, looking curiously as the door opened.

Two people about my age stood there, a guy and a girl. The girl had long, lime green hair, pulled back into a braided pigtail. She wore a pair of blue jean overalls with a canary yellow crop top and a pair of dirty white high-tops. Her face was round, her dark brown skin flawless, her eyes small almond-shaped, crinkled at the corners, and light brown. She had thick eyelashes, full eyebrows, and a Cupid's bow for lips. She had a big grin on her face, a dagger sticking out of her pocket, and a whip wrapped around her wrist and going up to her shoulder. It almost seemed to be alive.

The second person I had seen before, at least in a picture. Elias was taller than his photo and had obviously aged a year or two. He had more facial hair, a little bit more muscles on his lean frame, and his light green eyes were less mischievous today and more defensive like he was prepping himself for something. The look I got when I told my mom something, and she turned it into a lecture. He looked across at me, then back at Luca, an appraising look on his face.

"Luca!" the girl chirped, throwing her arms around him. She was shorter than me, but not short.

Luca hugged her back, glaring over her head at Elias. "Honor. It's been a few years. How are you?"

Instead of answering, she released him and bounced over to me. She moved with electricity in her veins. "I'm Honor! You must be Clare Walker," she introduced, pulling me into a hug. It was a lot stronger than I thought, especially for someone her size.

"That is me." I hugged her back.

Honor held me at arm's length. "You've been causing quite the stir, sis. Well, you and Athena. I've been murdering demons left and right on this side of the town to make sure you stay safe. Athena has Griffin and Sebastian and Hillary, so I was able to come down here and take care of you. Behind the scenes, of course. There was this one that got away, though, and I am so—"

She stopped mid-sentence as Elias walked toward her and placed his hand on her shoulder. I saw the way his fingers curled just so; it wasn't a friendly touch at all. Even the way he looked down at her with affection… they had something going on. Chloe would've definitely made a comment about it. He said nothing, but she stepped back from me and looked at him. A whole conversation passed between their eyes.

Murdering demons? One that got away? And Hillary's name was coming back up again? My head spun. Not knowing what to do, I looked at Luca.

"I thought," Luca said, "the deal was to stay at a distance."

Elias grinned. "We didn't shake on it." He dropped his hand from Honor, turning to me. "I'm Elias."

I smiled. "Nice to meet you."

Luca was still standing at the door as if hoping they would get the hint and leave. "Did Hillary send you here?"

Honor shook her head. "No, I've been following Clare from a distance for a while. I wanted to actually meet her."

"And where Honor goes, I go," Elias added.

Luca smiled. "Honor, you're always welcome here."

She shrugged. "Can't tell, you haven't answered my calls or texts in about two weeks. No hard feelings, though. You two go and catch up. Clare and I have something to discuss."

Luca opened his mouth as if he wanted to argue. Then he looked at me. You're okay with that?

I nodded. Luca trusted Honor, and she had something she wanted to tell me—information I desperately needed. She knew Hillary, Athena, Morgan, and Griffin. She was dating a demon and murdering them. I smiled at Honor, but she was looking up at Elias.

Elias brushed past her. Luca closed the door and followed him with a deep sigh. I knew they didn't get along—he had told me weeks ago, apparently, if my returned memories could be trusted—but Elias didn't seem bad.

Honor nudged me toward the living room. "How far have you gotten in your research?" she questioned. Instead of going around the sofa to sit down like me, she flung herself over the back.

"Not far." I sat down on the edge of the sofa, unsure how to interact with her. She was bubbly and sweet, but the dagger she twirled in her hand told me differently. The electricity in her whip cracked between us, audible in the silence between our sentences. "I've been looking at books, but…." I waved my hands in the air before letting them fall into my lap.

She gave me a knowing smile. "You're not getting anywhere, are you?"

Precisely.

"I'm originally from the Caribbeans, but I moved to Dallas when I was about seven, and I've been in Louisiana the past four or five months," she told me, twisting the dagger around and around. She watched it with sharp eyes, as if expecting it to do something spectacular. "See, there was a rise in demon activity, a crazy surge that pulled me away from my studies—I'm a mechanical engineering major when I can get away from tearing demons in half long enough to take a class or two. I'm a year behind, but that's not really important here.

"This was not, however, my normal surge of demon activity. I can usually take care of those in a matter of days. Kill the mid-level demons first, quickly and with an audience of two or more of their lower followers. Then I get Elias to capture a lower level demon for me, put in the torture work because I have a bit of a temper on me, and my instincts tell me to kill them. Immediately." She looked up, grinning, not bubbly, but sinister. "After a few hours of being tortured by him, they talk. Tell me who the head honcho demon is, and I go in and kill them. Easier said than done.

"This time, though, it was way different." She put the dagger down on the table. It spun once, then stopped, the tip of it pointed in the direction Luca and Elias had gone. "This time, the demons were excited to tell me who had sent them. I didn't have to poke, prod, or kill. 'Mother,' they crowed, 'we serve Mother, and she is back.'

"Now, mind you, this is before I heard hide or tail of you. Or Athena for that matter. I did some research of my own, asked around, and as it turned out, not a single soul knows who Mother is, damned or otherwise. After that, though, the demons stopped for about a week or two, and just when I was ready to pack my bags and go, I heard her name again: Luca called me in, asking me what did I know about Mother."

She paused, studying me curiously. A problem she couldn't solve. I didn't know what she was looking for. I was taking her story in, piecing together a timeline from my own story. The thing was, I knew as little about Mother as she did. That, and this all happened weeks before she met me. I was still looking at a boy in my class named Austin and following Bella to parties, unaware at how much my life was about to change.

"Not a damn thing. I've been looking and searching, but there��s nothing on her at all. So I understand your frustration at not being able to figure it out. I can, however, help you out with one thing.

"See, Luca told me Mother was looking to kill either you or Athena specifically, which made me think there was something different about y'all." She pointed her finger at me, a little grin on her face. "So, again, I'm doing my research, and it ht me like a ton of bricks that you two weren't just some human girls with a bit of bad luck, or two human girls that were targeted because of their connection to the Sins.

"You, dear Clare, and your cousin Athena , are a part of our angel family."

Honor smiled expectantly.

I fought the urge to look at her crazy. Angel family? "I don't go to church," I blurted out, although it didn't fit the conversation. She was crazy; she had to me. She was obviously nephilim or something of the sort, but I wasn't. I was Clare Walker, regular schmegular girl dating a demon and being targeted by a bigger demon.

Her smile dropped. "Neither do I. In fact, I haven't been to church since I was sworn in as a Guardian. That was when I was seven."

Guardian? I didn't know what the word meant in her sense, but it sounded important. Way too important for a seven year old to hold the position. "What's that?" I asked, trying to wrap my mind around the whole situation. It wasn't completely crazy to think of, but it didn't make sense. "Are you nephilim?"

Her eyes widened in horror. "Oh, Angel no! Don't ever disrespect our bloodline by saying we're anything like the bastard children of the Fallen and humans."

"Our?" Was she my cousin, too?

She sighed. "I'm making a mess of this explanation. Let me start at the beginning—or the beginning as I know it. Only one person has the Origin story, and he's been dead for years. I can, however, tell you about how blessed it is to be us. But first, do you know who the Archangels are?"

I nodded. "Somewhat. They're, like, God's right-hand men."

"Yeah. Sort of. Well, there are seven of them—Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, Uriel, Selaphiel, Raguel, and Barachiel. Each one has a different function, a different story behind them, a different reason for being." She took a deep breath. "Hundreds, if not thousands, of years ago, seven humans were selected to be blessed by the Angels to help rid the world of demons and make it a safe for humans. They were called Guardians.

"Each generation has a Guardian, someone who trains from the time they walk to the age of ten. We study angelology, demonology, religious texts, and, most important, the stories of our Angels, as well as the journals from our ancestors. We train to use different weapons, fighting stances, and more. At ten, we become sworn in at the position, and we apprentice under the Guardian before us until we turn eighteen, and then the torch is passed to us, and we get our Guardian marks." She stuck her left arm out and turned it over. Etched into her skin in what looked like white ink was a pattern of swirls and lines that covered the majority of it.

"My Angel is Raguel, the angel of fairness, justice, and harmony," she continued, putting her arm back onto her lap. She spoke his name with reverence and awe. "He is known for casting demons and wicked spirits into Hell and basically keeps the fallen angels and demon in check. That job, to some degree, is passed on to me and my family.

"Now, the Angels made sure we were equipped to do the jobs they blessed us to do. Forged by their hands are the First Blades, which are a series of weapons meant directly for our lines. They can't be destroyed, and they hold all kind of hidden abilities." She grabbed the dagger. "This is mine—along with sending demons straight to Hell, this little baby acts as a demonic compass. It points me in the direction of the nearest demon. See how it's pointed where Elias and Luca are?"

I nodded.

Guardians. Angels. Raguel. She believed I belonged to this group of families descended from Archangels. "So do you have powers?" I asked. "And what do you do exactly?" Besides murdering demons.

"I banish demons to Hell, or I destroy them completely, erasing every shard of them to exist," she answered. The electricity crackled louder. She didn't seem to notice. "That's what I do, and I'm damn good at it. The best of my line since the first one. Most people can only send a demon back to the Underworld, where it takes them years to get their body back together, but they'll return to Earth eventually if they wish. Since Raguel cast people back into Hell, I was given the gift of being able to kill them completely. Less cool, but my power is electricity."

I remained quiet. My head was starting to hurt from the overload of information. We couldn't even kill demons. The most I could do if I got the one-up on Mother was to banish her back to the Underworld, if that was even where she was. Unless we used Honor.

A light bulb turned on in my head. Honor was a key component to this. If she was the only one that could kill them, then she would have to be there when we defeated Mother.

The light bulb immediately dimmed. Mother said she had to 'rise.' In order for her to rise, someone had to be dead, which was what we were trying to prevent.

Honor reached over and put her hand on my knee. "It's a lot to take in, especially when you haven't grown up with it," she said gently. She was going for comforting, but Honor didn't seem to have a comfort bone in her body. Her touch was as electric as her whip. "But you and Athena are the Lost Two."

Great.

"About three generations ago, two Guardians disappeared on a random Tuesday, never to appear again. No one could find them, and they searched for years. Even the connection between Guardians disappeared. It was like they had been snatched from the Earth and pulled to some other dimension.

"They left behind spouses and children. The spouses, afraid to lose their kids, hid the books, the weapons, and everything. They decided to pretend the Guardians didn't exist anymore. From then on, the angel Gabriel's line was lost. Until now: he has you and Athena, and if we can keep you two alive, you'll be sworn in as Guardians, too."

Me and Athena.

Well, it certainly wasn't the weirdest thing to happen to me. Or the most dangerous.

I inhaled slowly. Exhaled even more slowly. My fingers curled around my t-shirt. The angel Gabriel. I had a book with his name on it, along with a list of names. A list of family members, starting from the first Guardian, a man named Gabriel. She was telling me the truth. "So I have powers?" More importantly, I had a duty to protect humankind.

Honor shrugged. "Depends. The last few generations didn't."

I snorted. "Sweet, so I'm from a blessed line of human protectors, and I don't get the cool stuff."

"You get a First Blade,�� she offered, an amused look on her face. "Sabers are really easy to learn to fight with, too."

I appreciated her optimism, but I had other things on my mind. I had to tell Athena. I also had to contact the only other person who would believe me—my grandmother.

All those times my father had called her crazy, forbade us from seeing her, and she had been right. Athena's father—we had written him off as crazy. They both knew about the line of Guardians in their way. I owed them both an apology.

Okay, so call your grandmother first, I told myself, putting this together. I would figure out what else she knew, if she knew anything else, and then I would call my cousin. It was time the two of us talked anyway. It was no longer about protecting ourselves. We were on the same side, and we needed to combine the information and figure out how to move from there. If we did have powers, then it had to help us somehow in defeating Mother. As soon as we could figure out what it was, we could train to use it.

We needed another Guardian but maybe if we found the journal it could help us.

"Anything else you need to know, ask your First Blade if you can find it," Honor instructed. She stuck her hand out, and the dagger flew from the table and into her hand. "I know it sounds crazy, but there's something in them that allows a direct connection to our ancestors. Sometimes they answer." She stood, looking at her watch.

I wanted to know more, though I sensed she had nothing else to say. I stood, too, trying not to look as desperate as I felt. She had given me something to think about, but what good would it do if I couldn't figure out how to master my powers (if I had them) in time? Or if I couldn't find my First Blade or learn to use it? What if the ancestors were angry with me for being weak and silly and wouldn't answer my questions?

Honor must've saw the desperation in my face anyway because she pulled me into another hug, careful not to cut me with the dagger. "You know, I never had a chance to see Gabriel's journals or meet any of his descendants, but my uncle told me about his Guardians. They're both extremely powerful. You have nothing to worry about." She released me, back to the bubbly person I had saw walk in. "Looks like the boys are still talking."

I smiled at her, still worried. Extreme power was what I was worried about. It could go wrong so quickly. "Are you and Elias dating?" I asked, changing the subject. I was curious how that worked—how could we be dating demons, even in love with them as those two so obviously were, and still protect humans from them? Wouldn't that make our ancestors unhappy?

She giggled. "He's my soulmate," she responded, "and we have sex at least four times a week, twice a day when it's not too hot outside, but, no, we're not dating."

"Well, why not?" I definitely wanted to date Luca. I didn't know if he was my soulmate or not yet, but if he was, I would definitely want to date him.

She looked toward the hallway, then leaned toward my ear with a whisper. "We got married two weeks ago." She reached into her shirt and pulled out a beautiful set of gold rings on a chain before slipping it back underneath her shirt. "The world seems like it's ending, and we have hope you two will figure it out, but just in case—I wanted his last name if something happened to either one of us. Keep it a secret, though, okay?"

I nodded. Two voices emerged from the hallway.

Elias appeared first. He didn't look irritated. He didn't look anything. Nice to meet you, he said, and it took me a second to realize it wasn't in my head. He could read minds? I can mimic people's powers, he explained.

Ah. Another realization dawned on me—it wasn't Sebastian there that day of the attack. It had to have been Elias, especially since Honor said she had been protecting me.

Smart.

Luca looked surly. "Well, it's been great seeing you guys. Congratulations on the marriage. Nice to get an invite. When the world is saved, we'll throw you guys a party." He was ushering them out the door.

Honor laughed. "See you at the end of the world," she said as way of good-bye.

He closed the door on them, locked it, and then turned to me. "So, are you hungry?"

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