Grace and Glory Page 81

Fun times.

We arrived at the hotel, parking in the nearby garage. When we entered the hotel and I went to push up the sunglasses, Zayne took them from me.

“I think I’ll have better luck with them,” he said, hooking an arm of the sunglasses around the collar of his shirt.

“Probably.”

As we rode the elevator up to the thirteenth floor and walked the hall to the restaurant, I wasn’t at all worried about whether the Crone would be here. I had a feeling she knew exactly what day we’d return.

And wouldn’t you know, Rowena was behind the hostess’s table, and before either of us could speak, she stepped out behind it and said in the most annoyed voice possible, “This way, please.”

I raised a brow as my gaze swept the dimly lit interior. “You really love these little visits, don’t you?”

“I await them with bated breath,” she responded.

I smirked as Zayne’s brows lifted. “That’s right. You’ve never had the pleasure of being greeted by Rowena. She’s always so eager to see me here.”

“I can tell,” Zayne replied flatly.

Rowena said nothing as she led us past the partition wall. Like before, everything but the round table in the middle of the room had been removed. Only three chairs were positioned at the table, and the Crone sat this time facing us. The table was bare of plates and glasses, and I had a sudden feeling that after this meeting, the table and chairs would disappear.

And so would the Crone.

Her shirt was the brightest pink I’d ever seen, and something...glittered across the front of it.

“How old is she?” Zayne whispered to me.

“Older than you think I look,” the Crone answered. Apparently her hearing wasn’t affected by age. “Come. Sit with me,” she called, her head tilted toward Zayne.

As we got closer, there was no mistaking the look of awe that settled into the lined, deep brown skin as she stared up at Zayne.

And there was also no mistaking what was bedazzled across her shirt in purple crystals. DON’T FLIP MY WITCH SWITCH.

Nice.

Zayne pulled out the chair to the Crone’s left for me to sit. I murmured my thanks.

The Crone chuckled as she watched Zayne take the seat to her right. “A Fallen with manners?” The skin at the corners of her eyes creased even further. “Or a Fallen who is in love?”

“The latter would probably be a more accurate observation,” Zayne answered, and my heart did a little jig in my chest.

Her lips turned up in a smile as she leaned toward Zayne. “You are something I’d never seen before, unique before even now. A Warden who befriended demons, something that has always set you above others. You achieved restoration of your Glory, a nearly impossible feat, and you gave away heavenly acceptance for love. Now, a Fallen with heavenly fire coursing through your veins. I’ve waited a very long time to say this. You have always been undervalued and underrated, but that has changed.” Her gaze roamed over Zayne. “You’re magnificent.”

“I really like her,” Zayne said to me. “Should’ve come here sooner.”

The Crone batted her white-tipped eyelashes—actually fluttered them at Zayne. “You are always welcome.” She lifted a small hand, stopping short before touching his arm. “May I?”

Muscles tensed as Zayne nodded for her to continue. I didn’t think she would be stupid enough to try something, but then again, people were generally stupid.

The Crone placed her hand on his arm. Her eyes drifted shut for a moment. “Yes,” she said softly. “You are utterly unique.”

I rolled my eyes. “He’s going to end up with a huge ego if you keep this up.”

“But it is an ego well deserved,” the Crone replied, slipping her hand from Zayne’s skin. “Do you not agree?”

“I agree,” I muttered.

Zayne shot me a half grin. “We owe you a thank-you, Crone.”

“Is that so?” Bushy white brows lifted.

Zayne nodded. “You gave her the means to help me.”

“But those means did not come without strings,” the Crone reminded us.

“I know.” I lifted the baggie. “We have your feather.”

Her smile grew as she eyed the bag. “I knew you would not fail.” Those eyes, as sharp as anyone half her age—whatever that age was—rose to mine. “You feared that you would. No one would blame you for that. Either you restored him or ended him, and that is no action taken lightly.”

“No.” I placed the baggie on the table. “It wasn’t.”

“I like you,” the Crone said.

“As much as you like him?” I countered.

Her laugh was raspy. “I like both of you. Together. You’re two halves meant to be one. Always have been. Always will be.”

There was a skipping motion in my chest as she looked down at the feather. “It’s sad, is it not? What Gabriel plots to do to this world and to Heaven.”

I stilled. I’d never shared with her what Gabriel planned...or that he was the Harbinger, but I wasn’t exactly surprised that she knew. “I could think of a stronger adjective to describe what he plans, but yes.”

She nodded slowly. “I’ve lived a long time, but I never thought I’d live to see the end of days.”

My breath caught.

“We won’t allow that to happen,” Zayne spoke up.

“No, I do not think you two will,” she said, and confusion rose as she curled gnarled fingers around the top of the baggie. “Not now at least.”

I glanced at Zayne and saw that his perplexed expression most likely matched mine. “I’m not really tracking what you’re saying.”

Prev page Next page