I broke the kiss and recaptured his gaze. I smoothed my hand over his cheek and allowed myself one moment to enjoy the feeling of being loved again before I closed the iron cage around my heart for the last time. Tonight I felt as if I’d never be able to love again after being destroyed so utterly by it. One day, perhaps. But right now, no.

I untangled myself from Nathaniel’s arms and climbed out of his lap. I walked unsteadily over to the book, my limbs feeling as spongy as cake, and I put a hand on the supple leather cover. I looked back at him and he appeared as defeated as I felt. He’d just opened himself completely to me, revealed his feelings in the most vulnerable way, and I couldn’t … I just couldn’t.

“We have to destroy the book before it gets back into the wrong hands,” I said at last.

“I can’t destroy the book,” he replied. “What if we need it?”

“Then we have to hide it.”

“I’ll write a copy to keep for myself,” he said. “If the relic guardian was killed recently, then the archangel Michael will need a replacement. He’s the one in charge of choosing the guardians. That decision is not for me to make.”

“You will keep your copy safe?” I asked him.

“You know I will.”

I nodded, sure of my faith in him. I bit my lip and tried to push away the memory of his lips on mine, but it was fresh and merciless and I couldn’t let it consume my thoughts. As much as I wanted to return to his arms and drown in that love again, I couldn’t do that to him. Not any time in the near future. There was too much I needed to accomplish for me to get lost in love again. Love was where I’d made so many dire mistakes.

10

ALL NIGHT, I FELT SO ILL THAT MY HEAD ACHED, and when I woke I was sick again. Nathaniel was gone and I didn’t know where. I’d heard him leave just before dawn, probably to handle the responsibility of the grimoire and to gather supplies to make his copy, but deep down inside I feared it was because I’d hurt him. He had kissed me and I’d kissed him back in my moment of weakness, but I hadn’t reciprocated the feelings that had come with his kiss. In the end, remaining a platonic relationship was for the better. For both of us.

The midday sun was high, though the autumn air was ice cold. My nausea hadn’t subsided. Reapers did not just fall ill and a new fear hovered in the back of my mind, pressing against my iron will not even to consider it. I couldn’t be pregnant. I couldn’t allow it.

I didn’t know any angelic doctors, but I knew of a nurse named Constance who had saved a battlemate of mine from a wound he may not have survived on his own. I entered the Grim outside and leapt into the air to head for London, where I recalled the nurse lived. At this time of day I was certain I wasn’t likely to be followed by any demonic, but the Grim safely concealed my existence from humans.

Constance operated out of a small hovel in one of the poorer sides of London. The smell of garbage and human waste masked the scent of angelic reaper blood so she could work without attracting the demonic. I knocked and a reaper opened the door to greet me with her pearly pink gaze and blond hair.

“Hello,” she said pleasantly as she let me squeeze past. “What brings you here in the middle of the afternoon?”

I laid a hand over my abdomen. “I haven’t been feeling well—awful, actually. Bad enough that I’ve come knocking on your door. You’re very highly recommended among our kind. Would you mind taking a look?”

“Of course, child,” she said. Even though I was a hundred years old, I could sense Constance was at least another six hundred years older and to her, I was a child. She directed me to a straw-packed bed where I lay down while she examined me. “What’s your name?”

“I’m …” I thought quickly. If I was pregnant, then I would find myself in an extremely dangerous situation. I remembered the story Bastian told me about his mother and father. I couldn’t let the news travel through the angelic population. Questions would be asked. Solutions would be sought. “Katherine. My name is Katherine.”

She eyed me curiously. “Nausea, you say? That’s it?”

“I ache sometimes,” I said. “My sickness has only begun in the last week or so, but it won’t subside.”

“Well, there certainly is an explanation for your symptoms,” the nurse said. Her tone was far from grave as I’d anticipated.

“Which is?” I pressed her impatiently.

Constance’s smile was wide and beaming. “You’re going to be a mother.”

I felt as though my heart had stilled and my lungs had lost their need for air. I felt suspended a mile above the earth and while the nurse continued to speak, I could not hear her. I drew a long, quivering breath and when I exhaled, all I could say was, “Oh.”

“You understand how rare this is, don’t you?” she asked cheerfully. “Who is the lucky father?”

A demonic lord. My voice was flat when I spoke. “Someone I loved very much.”

“It is so rare for our kind to conceive,” the nurse said sadly, and then smiled. “The angels must have wanted you to have a child very much, particularly Gabriel. She is the angel who watches over mothers and their children. Perhaps she believes your child is destined for greatness.”

My palm moved to cover my belly. Destined for greatness … “How far along am I?”

“Several weeks, I’d say. If everything goes well, you’ll give birth in the spring.”