sitting in front of her.
“You didn’t think you were finished,” he asks, that little smile never budging. “Did you?”
Chapter Two
Miriam sits at her favorite café, surrounded by heedless patrons, and cannot look away from Gabriel’s eyes. He sits there, so pleased with his joke, his humble little disguise. The sounds, the people, the smells in the café, they must still exist, but they seem to vanish as she feels herself falling into the deadly depth of his gaze. There’s something awful about the fact that he can sit there in front of so many witnesses while they all remain unaware, utterly oblivious to the implications, the terror and potential that sits so unassumingly at the table for two near the counter.
“We are trying to help you,” he says. “We are trying to make this simple.”
Even in the midst of a panic attack, Miriam is able to fight back a wave of hysterical laughter. How could he possibly imagine that anything she’s accomplished the past six months was simple?
He turns his curious, terrifying gaze to the plates where her and Emmett’s food sits half eaten and nudges the silverware so that they lay perfectly parallel, twitches Emmett’s plate to center it between the unused fork and knife, and brushes the crumbs off the table. The world’s scariest perfectionist.
“We are trying to help you,” he repeats, his eyes hooded as he adjusts the angle of Emmett’s drink in relation to the plate. He glances up and nails her with a look that sends ice to her stomach. “But there is only so much we can do.”
Miriam lowers her gaze in sudden shame and nods. Are there rules to how much angelscan interfere? Do they chafe?
“I’m sorry that I failed you,” she says in a small voice. She’s never had a conversation with an angel before. Raphael didn’t allow for the space that words need. Gabriel is a little different, still terrifying, but perhaps more used to dealing with humans. She wants to say so much more. To beg for forgiveness, to find out if Mo, her twin brother, is still in trouble. She wants him to say clearly, once and for all, what she is supposed to do. If Gabriel can read her thoughts, he doesn’t show it.
Just tell me
, she thinks, risking a look at him, but those words don’t come.
The angel waves away her apology and shakes his head in mock dismay. There are a few streaks of gray in his dull brown hair, but as Miriam studies him, trying so hard to remember everything he says, every little thing about him, she realizes the strands aren’t gray—they glint with a metallic shine. The little creases by his eyes, the thin lines that bracket his mouth, none of them sit quite right. It’s a costume and she shivers, not wanting to see what lies beneath. His dismay, the attempts to guide and help, maybe those are fake too.
Miriam waits for more, the
what
, the
why
.
“You are easily distracted,” he scolds, his narrow hands folded on the perfectly set table in front of him. “You must concentrate.”
As if to punctuate his words, the bell tied to the door of the café rings. Her eyes shift off Gabriel for a second as she sees Emmett step into the restaurant.
“What am I supposed to do? What’s my new mission?” she asks quickly, before he can disappear. There, she’s managed to ask an angel a question. But it’s too late. Gabriel is already rising, slipping out of the seat and away from the table so smoothly that Emmett hasn’t even realized there was someone in his seat. “Don’t leave me without instructions. Please. I’ll do whatyou say.”
Gabriel turns and smiles at her, a beautiful, radiant smile, and her eyes widen in hope. But then Emmett is there, pulling out his chair and saying something she can’t hear. Gabriel slips away, blending in with the crowd waiting to order at the counter, and even though she never takes her eyes off him, somewhere between sliding through the small cluster of customers near the cashier, he’s gone. She blinks quickly.
“You didn’t think you were finished,” he asks, that little smile never budging. “Did you?”
Chapter Two
Miriam sits at her favorite café, surrounded by heedless patrons, and cannot look away from Gabriel’s eyes. He sits there, so pleased with his joke, his humble little disguise. The sounds, the people, the smells in the café, they must still exist, but they seem to vanish as she feels herself falling into the deadly depth of his gaze. There’s something awful about the fact that he can sit there in front of so many witnesses while they all remain unaware, utterly oblivious to the implications, the terror and potential that sits so unassumingly at the table for two near the counter.
“We are trying to help you,” he says. “We are trying to make this simple.”
Even in the midst of a panic attack, Miriam is able to fight back a wave of hysterical laughter. How could he possibly imagine that anything she’s accomplished the past six months was simple?
He turns his curious, terrifying gaze to the plates where her and Emmett’s food sits half eaten and nudges the silverware so that they lay perfectly parallel, twitches Emmett’s plate to center it between the unused fork and knife, and brushes the crumbs off the table. The world’s scariest perfectionist.
“We are trying to help you,” he repeats, his eyes hooded as he adjusts the angle of Emmett’s drink in relation to the plate. He glances up and nails her with a look that sends ice to her stomach. “But there is only so much we can do.”
Miriam lowers her gaze in sudden shame and nods. Are there rules to how much angelscan interfere? Do they chafe?
“I’m sorry that I failed you,” she says in a small voice. She’s never had a conversation with an angel before. Raphael didn’t allow for the space that words need. Gabriel is a little different, still terrifying, but perhaps more used to dealing with humans. She wants to say so much more. To beg for forgiveness, to find out if Mo, her twin brother, is still in trouble. She wants him to say clearly, once and for all, what she is supposed to do. If Gabriel can read her thoughts, he doesn’t show it.
Just tell me
, she thinks, risking a look at him, but those words don’t come.
The angel waves away her apology and shakes his head in mock dismay. There are a few streaks of gray in his dull brown hair, but as Miriam studies him, trying so hard to remember everything he says, every little thing about him, she realizes the strands aren’t gray—they glint with a metallic shine. The little creases by his eyes, the thin lines that bracket his mouth, none of them sit quite right. It’s a costume and she shivers, not wanting to see what lies beneath. His dismay, the attempts to guide and help, maybe those are fake too.
Miriam waits for more, the
what
, the
why
.
“You are easily distracted,” he scolds, his narrow hands folded on the perfectly set table in front of him. “You must concentrate.”
As if to punctuate his words, the bell tied to the door of the café rings. Her eyes shift off Gabriel for a second as she sees Emmett step into the restaurant.
“What am I supposed to do? What’s my new mission?” she asks quickly, before he can disappear. There, she’s managed to ask an angel a question. But it’s too late. Gabriel is already rising, slipping out of the seat and away from the table so smoothly that Emmett hasn’t even realized there was someone in his seat. “Don’t leave me without instructions. Please. I’ll do whatyou say.”
Gabriel turns and smiles at her, a beautiful, radiant smile, and her eyes widen in hope. But then Emmett is there, pulling out his chair and saying something she can’t hear. Gabriel slips away, blending in with the crowd waiting to order at the counter, and even though she never takes her eyes off him, somewhere between sliding through the small cluster of customers near the cashier, he’s gone. She blinks quickly.
Similar Books
