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“One of the Devil’s brood,” he answered.
“You belong to the biblical race of Nephilim. Your real father was an angel who fell from heaven. You’re half mortal.” The boy’s dark eyes lifted, meeting Chauncey’s. “Half fallen angel.”
“Are you—fallen?” he called out. “Your wings have been stripped, haven’t they?”
Taking my hand, he scribbled something on it before I thought to pull away. I looked down at the seven numbers in red ink on my palm and made a fist around them.
Hurhurhur
I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but something about Patch wasn’t right. Something about him wasn’t normal. Something wasn’t . . . safe.
Biggest dream?” I was proud of this one because I knew it would stump him. It required forethought. “Kiss you.”
“Say ‘provoking’ again. Your mouth looks provocative when you do.”
It was the shape of a splattered paint drop.
The truth was, I never felt completely alone. Right after my dad was shot to death in Portland while buying my mom’s birthday gift, a strange presence entered my life. Like someone was orbiting my world, watching from a distance.
Coach said, with slight irritation, “What qualities are you attracted to in a potential mate?”
Wat a weird thing to ask ur student
He’s joking, I told myself. No, he’s insane.
Lol
“He’s not good enough for you,” I said. She moaned. “Careful, you’ll only make me want him more.”
Lol
“My seat, if you don’t mind.”
“Looking good as always,” he said to me, taking his chair.
“We’re not—compatible.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw, a calculating gesture I’d grown accustomed to in only a few short days of knowing him. “We’re not?”
“I need you to exit the building immediately.”
Wut
He leaned across the table, raised his hand to my face, and brushed his thumb along one corner of my mouth. I pulled away, too late. He rubbed lip gloss between his thumb and forefinger. “You’d look better without it.”
“Careful,” he said in a low voice. “They might think we’re flirting.”
The first depicted a mob of horned demons ripping the wings off a screaming male angel. The next painting showed the wingless angel perched on a headstone, watching children play from a distance. In the third painting, the wingless angel stood close to the children, crooking a finger at one little green-eyed girl. In the final painting, the wingless angel drifted through the girl’s body like a ghost. The girl’s eyes were black, her smile was gone, and she’d sprouted horns like the demons from the first painting. A slivered moon hung above the paintings.
A shiny black motorcycle rested on its kickstand. He swung on and tipped his head at the seat behind him. “Hop on.”
“Boyfriend?” “No.” “You’re an attractive girl. I imagine there must be some interest from the opposite sex.”
This is just so weird to me
I stepped inside the room, but it lacked the familiar touch of comfort and safety. There was an underlying note of violation and menace.
“Saturday night Patch gave you a ride home from Delphic Seaport. And you invited him inside your house.” I fought to hold in a choke of protest. “How do you know about that?”
Yeah fr
“I don’t go out with strangers,” I said. “Good thing I do. I’ll pick you up at five.”
“Did you want to show her what happens when girls like her don’t keep their mouths shut? Did you think she deserved to get a little roughed up? I knew girls like Marcie when I went to school. They ask for it, don’t they? Was Marcie asking for it, Nora?
Wtf
Two thick gashes ran the length of it. They started near his kidneys and ended at his shoulder blades, widening to form an upside-down V.
Patch wasn’t the kind of guy mothers smiled on. He was the kind of guy they changed the house locks for.
“Two-point-two,” Patch said.
Lmfaoooo
Comparing this information with Patch’s scars, was it possible . . . could Patch be a fallen angel? Did he want to possess my body?
Girl
I crammed everything I’d read into a mental folder and filed it away. And stamped SCARY on the outside of the folder.
Lol
“He was wasted. Maybe—maybe he didn’t know what he was doing. Tomorrow he’s going to feel horrible.”
Excuse me
“Nora Grey,” she said, then immediately clamped her hands over her mouth.
Wtf
He’s following her. She doesn’t see him . . . but he’s right there. Why doesn’t she see him? Why isn’t she running? I can’t see his face, it’s in shadow. . . .” Dabria’s eyes flew open. She sucked in a quick, sharp breath. “Who?” Patch said. Dabria curled her hands against her mouth. She was trembling as she raised her eyes to Patch’s. “You,” she whispered.
Wat
“Go ahead,” he said quietly. “Keep in mind that people change, but the past doesn’t.”
“I was told there’s a story in The Book of Enoch. About a fallen angel who becomes human.”
“Do you want to possess my body?” “I want to do a lot of things to your body, but that’s not one of them.”
At the time, I was crazy about a human girl, and it seemed worth the risk.”
“He’s planning to use you as a sacrifice!” she erupted. “See that mark?” She thrust her finger at my wrist. “It means you’re a female descendant of a Nephil. And not just any Nephil, but Chauncey Langeais, Patch’s vassal.”
“Let’s be honest, Nora. You’ve got it bad for me.” His eyes held a lot of depth. “And I’ve got it bad for you.”
“Every year at the start of the Hebrew month of Cheshvan, he takes control of my body.
Before I had time to realize just how much this loss of control terrified me, a crushing pain spiked through my hand, and I realized Patch was using my fist to punch Jules.
Wtf
“What good is a body if I can’t have you?”
