Page 19 of Trick Of Light

“Certainly not,” Raphael agreed with the coachman, easing me back, away from his whip.

“What are you even doing here? I thought kyries were barred from—no, we’ll get to the bottom of this.” He started waving his hands toward the sky.

I had no idea what was happening, but Raphael looked resigned, not frightened.

“What’s going on, Raph?”

“This,” he said, pointing up, where suddenly I saw winged men and women in the air above us. “We’re not far from the hall, so the guards are patrolling, just like you warders.”

The difference being, of course, that we didn’t have wings.

They landed, dropping from their height on straight legs just like Raphael normally did, and faced us and the man. There were seven in all, four male and three female, all in Roman-inspired armor, each with a shining gold cuirass, helmet, and swords at their sides. Their white-feathered wings, now folded behind them, were glorious, rising a couple of feet over their heads and dragging on the ground as they walked. In flight, they were immense, easily a fourteen-foot wingspan, and they caught the light and looked as though the edges of each feather were dipped in gold.

The coachman took a step back from the angel who moved closer to him. She was beautiful, a vision of deep sepia skin, flashing green eyes, and dark brown hair that fell to the middle of her back in heavy braids. I doubted I’d ever seen a more stunning woman, but she was an angel, so that was part of it.

“What is your issue, friend?” she asked the coachman.

He pointed at us, and when she turned, Raphael didn’t bow or greet her or do anything but smile.

I heard her sharp indrawn breath. “Ah, so Anahel’s pet has returned.”

“Greetings, Evangeline,” Raphael murmured.

Instant scowl from her. “You’ve been gone a long time. He’ll be surprised.”

“Doubtful. When have you known him to be so?”

“Yes,” she agreed after a moment. “What brings you?”

“I’m here to see him and drop off some friends. I have a favor to ask of him, and of you, actually.”

“Me?”

“I would ask you to scry for me upon your great mirror of the heavens and find me a witch.”

She squinted but moved forward, startling the gathered crowd by stepping into Raphael’s space and putting her hands on his face. “Why don’t you fly? Are they broken?”

He scoffed. “Broken. How?”

“Then show us.”

I caught my breath, and when he looked at me, her hands fell away. There was no way to contain my excitement. I’d begged him for months to show me after Marcus told me that Raphael had wings. But, he said, he couldn’t show them to me in our home in Potrero Hill. He couldn’t, in fact, show them to me anywhere on the earthly plane. But now, here, apparently he could, and I more than wanted to see.

“You better not be scared,” he warned me, his tone almost harsh, but I heard the hesitance too. He was worried.

“Nothing about you would ever frighten me,” I promised as he took off his hoodie, then the T-shirt underneath.

“While you parley with this dreg, my grievance goes unheard,” the man with the whip barked at the angel.

When she turned to him, he visibly flinched, simply from the fierceness of her gaze. I understood. If she’d been looking at me like that, I’d probably be concerned as well.

“You take issue with the only kyrie the angel Anahel, ruler of the third heaven, calls friend,” she told him. “Best you drive on and not invite his wrath.”

He glanced at Raphael and then quickly returned to his coach. He was gone in moments, the crowd parting to allow his escape.

“Jackson,” Raphael whispered, and I watched, holding my breath, as enormous wings erupted from his shoulder blades and unfurled, even more beautiful than the others’ because they were his. Their coloring was mesmerizing, same as that of a male blackbird—glossy jet black, deep midnight blue, and shimmery forest green.

“Oh, Raph,” I barely got out, wanting to reach out and touch them, and him, but not daring to. I wouldn’t be able to stop once I started. “They’re so beautiful.”