“I’m going to look for her,” I said.

  “I’ll come with you,” Jax said.

  “No, stay,” I told him, nodding at Faith, who sat with Raph in the corner. Faith had been strangely distant since Raph’s tears had brought her back. So far, he was the only one she’d really spoken to. I could tell it was screwing with Jax’s head, but the alpha needed a bit of uncertainty. Especially when it came to women.

  He nodded, and I slipped out in search of Gran. Or Luca’s guy tracking Gran. An hour later, I’d searched every inch of the Undergound, including the second warehouse connected to the first by a long, cold, soap-stained hallway.

  “Hey.”

  I smiled at Luis, who stood guard at the entrance to Luca’s private quarters.

  “Heard you had an unfortunate run-in with a biter last night,” I said.

  He smiled way too knowingly. “Yeah, just a flesh wound. Weirdest thing, though. Could have sworn I heard it call me delicious as it bit me.”

  I froze.

  Shit. He knew.

  I winced.

  “Sorry,” I began, but he waved me off.

  “Don’t worry about it. Your secret’s safe. Besides, Carlos wouldn’t care.”

  “Yeah, but others might.” I glanced behind me at the crowded common area. This time of day, outsiders stopped by on their way home from work. Bringing supplies. Seeing loved ones. Giving updates about the outside.

  Too many ears could overhear us right now.

  “Gem, everyone here accepts your family,” Luis said. “All of them.”

  “Yeah, I know that. I guess it’s hard for me to trust.”

  “You’re not the only one.”

  We’d come a long way from the shit-talking kid who’d helped kidnap me for Luca’s various pranks.

  “You need something?” he asked.

  “I’m looking for Gran,” I said. “Can’t seem to find her, and no one else has seen her either.”

  “Uhhh.” His expression suddenly became very guilty. And very uncomfortable.

  “Luis. If you know something,” I warned him.

  He mumbled something about it being awkward. My eyes narrowed.

  He sighed. “Come on. I’ll show you where she is.”

  I followed him through a series of hallways, ending up in one of the residential wings that I’d never been to before. The rooms were tiny. Not much more than supply closets, judging from the few I’d glimpsed as we walked.

  Luis stopped beside a closed door.

  “She’s in there?” I asked skeptically.

  “Just don’t open it until I leave.”

  What the…

  “How do you know she’s inside?” I asked.

  “This is my patrol area,” he said as if that explained it.

  Before I could ask more, he was striding off. Quickly.

  What the hell was he trying to avoid?

  I knocked once then pushed the door open. “Gran,” I called. “Are you—”

  “Ohhh.”

  At the sound of the moan, I froze.

  Through the small opening created by the half-open door, I caught sight of a familiar face. And his not-so-familiar naked body.

  Lester the vegan werewolf lay writhing around on a twin mattress.

  And I had a feeling he did not, in this very moment, have to pee.

  “What the actual fuck.”

  An array of disturbing emotions hit me. Panic. Disgust. Nausea.

  Overwhelmed with them all, I backed away, shielding my eyes and scrambling for safer ground. My shoulder bumped the wall behind me, and, eyes closed, I gripped it for support.

  “Gem? Shit, I’ve gotta go.”

  From inside the room, Gran’s voice cut through the roaring in my ears, but I kept going, stumbling sideways toward safety.

  Bitchnuggets.

  I would never, ever unsee that.

  And here I thought there hadn’t been anything grosser than walking in on my mother and Raph.

  Wrong.

  So, so wrong.

  “Gem…” Gran flew up behind me. Winded. And I knew from what.

  “My bad,” I said shakily. “Can’t talk now.”

  “Gem, wait,” she said, utterly breathless now. “I can’t keep up…and talk…and I’ve gotta explain.”

  “No, Gran, trust me. You don’t have to explain anything.”

  “Really? You don’t want to know how a June bug could possibly bring a full-grown man to completion? Because I’d definitely want to know if I was you—”

  “Gran, for the love of all that is holy, please stop talking.”

  “It defies science, really.” Her voice held a note of smugness now. “And you come from some extremely talented women if you know what I mean, so that says something. Adrik’s a real lucky—”

  “Gran, if you don’t stop, I’m going to throw up.”

  “I didn’t take you for a weak stomach.”

  “There’s nothing weak about my stomach,” I said. “Dead bodies? Demon guts? Give me either one. But please don’t ever let that happen again.”

  “You don’t get to dictate to me.” She flew around and ran square into my forehead.

  Scowling, I stopped walking and rubbed at the spot where she’d left a sting.

  “Listen here, grandchild. I’m a grown-ass woman insect. And if I want to pleasure a man, that’s damn well what I’ll do. Ain’t none of your business either. So take your judging ass somewhere else.”

  She stuck her nose in the air and huffed.

  I realized she was worried. And our conversation from the other day came back to me. About her wanting to move on. To maybe even be human again. Was this what had prompted that? Did she care for Lester?

  “I’m not judging,” I told her.

  “Like hell. I can hear it in your voice.”

  “I’m scarred. There’s a difference.”

  She didn’t answer, and I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. I’d been the one branded by that damaging sight, so I was not about to be the one to apologize for it.

  “Do you like him?” I asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Do you like him, Gran? Does he make you happy? You’ve clearly been spending a lot of time together.”

  She hesitated, and I could feel the change come over her. Like she hadn’t wanted to admit these answers before. No wonder she’d been sneaking off. She was moving on from my grandfather, all while trying to hold onto the last thing he’d given her—her physical form—and that couldn’t be easy.

  “Gran, it’s okay if you do. In fact, I think it’s great,” I told her. “You deserve to be happy.”

  “He makes me laugh,” she said finally. “And his eating habits aside, he’s fun. Besides, he’s got a huge—”

  “Okay.”

  I took a step back, once again trying not to barf all over my shoes.

  “Well, you asked,” she muttered.

  “Gran, I need to ask you a favor.”

  “You want me to tell you my secret, don’t you? It’s all in the wrist, honey—”

  “No! In fact, I’ll do anything you want so that I don’t ever have to hear any of your secrets again.”

  “Well, what the hell is it then?”

  “It’s…well, it’s about your physical state. Gran, I don’t want to push you, but how do you feel about being something other than a June bug?”

  “You mean, taking my body back?” she asked.

  “Eventually, yes. But first, I’d like you to take mine.”

  “Well, now, I’m not sure how Lester will feel about that.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gran was in. I was a little relieved, mostly terrified. Putting her in danger was the last thing I wanted, but hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that. Her level of excitement for the mission was a whole thing, but I couldn’t think of another way. And besides, like everyone else had pointed out, we wouldn’t get this done without risking each and every one of us. As much as I hated that fact, I couldn’t do this alone. I had to ask for help. And there was no one I trusted more than Gran.

  Well, maybe a certain Nephilim lying unconscious on the other side of this warehouse, but I’d purposely shoved all thought of Adrik and his deteriorating state from my mind. I couldn’t worry about him and plan a war. Which meant I couldn’t let myself feel the fear and pain of possibly losing him. I had to act as if this was going to work. Juice was right. I had to pick my line, and I couldn’t do that with fear in the way. So, I’d stayed away from him and spent all my waking hours putting every part of this plan into place.

  Now, there was only one piece left.

  That night, after the triplets were snoring soundly, I spoke to Raph and my mother.

  “I hate to ask,” I began. “But there’s no other way.”

  “Gem, whatever you need,” my mother assured me.

  But I wasn’t worried about her willingness to help. I looked at Raph.

  “You need more,” he said knowingly.

  “It’s been a day, and Faith seems fine,” I said.

  “Was there ever any doubt?”

  Of course, Raph would be insulted by something like that.

  “I needed to know if we could use it,” I said. “On a larger scale.”

  “And?” my mother pressed. “Will it work?”

  “I spoke to John, and we think so. But only if Raph can make more,” I said.

  He put an arm around my mother. “If Cora can help me,” he said quietly.

  My mom looked up at him, affection clear in her expression.

  For once, I didn’t feel a surge of anger at seeing it.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “How much do you need?” my mother asked.

  “As much as you can make.” I explained my idea, and even Raph admitted it was a good one.

  “We’ll do our best,” she assured me.

  I started to leave, my head full of all of the details yet to nail down. But Raph stopped me. “Here.” He pressed a small vial into my palm. “It’s a single dose.”

  I looked down at it and then up at him.

  “For Adrik,” he added.

  I bit my lip. “I should give it to John. To put toward the big batch.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll make enough for the others. I swear it,” he added when I tried to argue.

  My heart thudded. “Will it work?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “My strength still hasn’t returned. It might be enough but—”

  “But it might not,” I finished for him.

  He looked away.

  I squeezed the vial. “Thank you. For everything.”

  I shot him a tight smile and then slipped out.

  Twenty minutes later, the details were as settled as they’d ever be.

  Tomorrow, we’d see if it was enough.

  And now, the vial was burning a hole in my pocket. I’d put it off, overcome with fear. Faith had asked why I didn’t use it on Adrik before her, and I hadn’t lied when I told her I owed it to her first. But the other truth, the scary one, was that if I did this and it didn’t work, that meant it would all come down to my big plan. To Raguel. To using him to heal Adrik.

  I wasn’t sure I could handle that.

  Failure was a very real option.

  Even with a plan, it was still a bunch of supernaturals—strong, sure, but mortal at the end of the day—against an all-powerful, immortal Nephilim.

  The vial warmed in my palm as I found my way back to Adrik’s room and pushed open the door.

  Inside, a low lamp burned, casting a yellow glow over the walls. On the bed, Adrik lay eerily still, the silence in the room a chaos all its own. I shut the door behind me, looking down at the Archangel of Death. So quiet. So vulnerable. His handsome face was shadowed by the lamplight, casting his angles into starker contrast.

  For the first time, I realized his stubble hadn’t grown since he’d fallen into this coma.

  “Of all the weird things to notice,” I muttered to myself and then shoved the thoughts aside as I held up the vial.

  Inside was a single teardrop.

  “This is going to work,” I said out loud.

  The room had no answer for me.

  I gripped the vial gently, heart pounding in my own ears. Uncapping the container, I poured the tear into Adrik’s mouth and waited.

  And waited.

  And waited.

  The silence stretched until it became a roar in my head.

  Still, Adrik didn’t move.

  When I’d all but given up, Adrik’s eyes fluttered, and my breath caught. Gripping his shoulders, I leaned in, smiling through watery eyes as he finally looked up at me.

  “It worked,” I said, my voice cracking in relief.

  Love, pure and overflowing, erupted from some long-buried and sealed tomb in my heart.

  But Adrik’s expression made me pause.

  A pit formed in my stomach, chasing away the relief.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “It’s coming,” he said. His voice was deeper than I’d ever heard and hard as stone. The words were a force I couldn’t push away. Like they were only using him as a vessel to get to me.

  “Adrik? What’s coming?”

  “You won’t beat him. You can’t.”

  My throat closed as I realized what he meant. Who he meant.

  “I will,” I said, both determined and terrified of what he’d just said. Was it a prediction? Was he seeing something I couldn’t change? “I have to. I won’t let you die. Not for me. Not now, not ever.”

  “There’s some of what you need inside you already but more still is required.”

  I shook my head. “You’re not making sense. What—”

  “Take mine,” he said, his voice losing some of its power now. As if whatever had taken over was leaving now. “Take mine and use it to save them.”

  “I’m going to save you,” I began, but the power hit me, ripping me off my feet.

  I flew backward, off the bed, and across the room, slamming my shoulders into the wall with enough force to knock the wind from my lungs.

  I gasped, reeling and panicked and ready to hit back at whatever that was. But by the time I climbed to my feet, the energy had vanished.

  “Adrik.”

  I raced back to Adrik, dropping down beside him and shaking his shoulders. His eyes had fallen closed again, and he didn’t move or respond.

  “Adrik, wake up,” I said.

  Nothing.

  “Don’t. I can do this,” I said, desperation leaking into every word I spoke.

  My heart raced. Panic gripped me.

  I fumbled for a pulse, and when I found it, I exhaled, shoulders sagging.

  The tear hadn’t been enough.

  Not really.

  And now, whatever divinity or oracle Adrik had channeled was convinced I was going to fail.

  Defeat wormed its way into my chest, tightening my muscles until my stomach roiled with fear. My shoulders ached from where they’d hit the wall, almost as if something had scratched the skin. Wincing, I ran my hand over my shoulder blades but found the skin smooth and unbroken.

  Curling in against Adrik’s hard body, I lay beside him and let sleep suffocate the uncertainty, at least for a little while.

  Morning brought a backache and a migraine that made it hard to get out of bed. A knock at the door startled me, and I looked up to see Milo pushing the door open.

  “Rise and shine, gorgeous. Time to kick some Nephilim ass.”

  I groaned, sinking back into the safety of the mattress.

  Milo frowned, stepping into the room and studying me closer. “You okay? You look like shit.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “Sorry, but I’m just saying…you need some coffee or what?”

  “I need a miracle.” I sighed. “But coffee wouldn’t hurt either.”

  I got up, wincing at the stiffness in my back.

  “G, talk to me. You’re moving like you got hit by a truck.”

  “Maybe I did.”

  His expression turned wary. And concerned.

  “Should I be worried?”

  “We should all be worried.”

  “G, you’re freaking me the fuck out.”

  “Adrik woke up last night,” I said quietly, and Milo’s eyes widened. “Raph gave me another tear, and I’d hoped it would bring him back.”

  Milo looked at Adrik’s comatose form expectantly.

  “Did he—”

  I shook my head. “It didn’t last.”

  “G, I’m sorry.”

  “It got real weird after that.”

  “Weird like death-sex with a Nephilim or like you’re trying to navigate a consensual relationship with a coma patient?”

  I decided to ignore both parts of that question. But one thing was certain; I couldn’t stay in this room any longer. Not when it seemed to echo with the prediction of my failure.

  Grabbing my jacket, I headed for the door. “Come on. I’ll tell you everything while we get that coffee.”

  By the time we snagged coffee and breakfast, I’d finished telling Milo about the body-slamming ghost, and my backache had receded into an annoying throb.

  “I don’t think whatever he saw is unchangeable,” Milo said between bites of an egg biscuit.

  “You’re just saying that so I don’t freak out.”

  “Yes,” he admitted. “But any witch, warlock, and oracle will tell you that free will is a bitch. No future is set in stone because our choices are constantly fracturing the timeline, right?”

  “You’re right,” I agreed.

  “Okay, so it was more of a warning. So that we don’t get overconfident and let our guard down. And now we won’t. So, we’re going to win.”

  I gave him a dubious look.

  “By giving you that warning, that voice or spirit or whatever just made sure we do win this thing.”

  He smiled as if he’d just fixed everything.

  “I’m not sure your reverse psychology is entirely accurate,” I said.

  “Of course it is. I trick myself into doing shit all the time with this method.”

  “You’re the weirdest best friend I’ve ever had.”

  “You’re welcome.” He stood up, gathering his trash. “Now, come on. It’s time to ride or die.”

  I gave him a look.

  “What? That’s what they say, right?”