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I was being stalked.
He could either track me with magic, or he knew my daily routines. There was no other way he’d expect that I’d be in here.
There was only one person I could think to call. My hands shook as I dialed the number. It wasn’t one that was safe to save in my phone—in anyone’s phone, really.
An emergency call for the truly desperate.
It rang twice and then cut off.
“Gray.” The deep, familiar voice was relaxed. Comfortable.
I took a deep breath. My heart squeezed. “Hey, Dad.”
“What’s wrong?” my father asked.
“Why does everything always have to be a fucking problem call?” I groused.
“Because you only ever call me when you have a problem. As we discussed. Don’t hedge.”
“Damn. Fine. Someone is following me. I don’t know who he is or what he wants.”
“Has he spoken to you?”
“No.”
“Can you confirm what his magical lineage is?”
My gaze swept over the man’s strange outfit. “There aren’t any fae characteristics I can see. He looks like me—no physical magical markers. But I get the sense he’s immortal. Definitely not a human mage.”
You couldn’t judge someone’s magic based only on how they looked, however. Like me, for example. I looked human and, considering there were humans living in every Divine City, I could be.
That was the furthest from the truth, though.
“Description,” Dad stated.
“Brown skin. White hair… or is it gray? Silver, maybe? I haven’t stood next to him, but he’s well over six feet. Wearing a trench coat and sunglasses.”
“A trench coat?” Dad sounded disgusted.
“I know. He should be arrested for that alone.”
A pause and then, “Someone’s been killing students at a local university. Have you heard of it?”
That took an unexpected turn. Frowning, I answered, “Actually, yes. Just did. Why? What does that have to do with—”
“I’m saying that the only creature that would purposefully attack angels—”
This time I cut him off. “The victims were all angels? Like, angel angels?”
He sighed. “Yes, daughter of mine. Angels. Every city across the globe has crime, and even angels get caught in the crossfires. Even here, in D.C. I can’t say…”
For a moment, his voice blurred with my own vision.
Daughter of mine.
The words rang in my ears like a church organ, sending all thoughts to a screeching halt. He doesn’t call me that very often. He must be alone somewhere, unable to be overheard.
Gods, I missed him.
