Wake

Chapter 32

Lucie

"I'm just saying—"

"No," said Vinny for the five hundredth time.

"But maybe he's—"

"No, Lucie. Nothing about my dad's ever going to change," he hissed at me, half turned away, towards the dim corridor. From its direction came warbled voices, likely Caprice's and Zev's. Nura was sitting idly in a pew a few feet from us. "I know him better than you do, so trust me."

I frowned. "You didn't give the man a chance."

"He doesn't deserve one."

His slim, fragile shoulders were rigid as he folded his arms, his hair almost white in the low lighting of the chapel. I couldn't see where he was looking, but he was turned towards the stained glass window that hung above the baptism pool, the delicate eyes of Mary and baby Jesus scrutinizing us.

I almost opened my mouth to try to convince him again, but something told me he wasn't going to let up. So I just sighed and said, "So it worked. Our plan."

Finally, Vinny glanced over his shoulder at me, his arms slipping to his sides. "Maybe. What if I put too much in him? Zev said he hasn't woken up yet."

"No, Vince," I said, and offered him my most genuine of smiles, because all I said was the truth, "you did just fine. Perfect. As soon as he wakes up, we'll call down the Order and he'll be back to us in no time—"

"But he won't be an angel anymore," Vinny replied, and then he turned, fully, into the stream of the light from the windows. It caught in his eyes, turning their gold flecks to lit embers. I noticed for the first time that there was a scrape on his cheek, still sticky with blood.

"It's been so long," Vinny went on, suddenly balancing himself against the pew, as if suffering from a sudden fatigue. "It's been so long since he's been human. Since we've both been human at the same time."

"Your cut," I said.

He looked up at me. "What?"

"Are you hurt? Did Cian do that?"

He eyed me for a moment longer, then lifted a few fingers to the cut I'd pointed out, just below his right eye. He exhaled, eyes flitting half-closed for a moment. "Oh," he murmured. "Yeah, but it's fine."

"Are you fine?" I pressed, letting my eyes trace the rest of him, his jagged collarbones, the outline of cheeks beginning to sink in. I'd always noticed he'd looked tired—sick, even, but I hadn't thought about it, hadn't noticed just how bad it was. He was like a leaf, barely tethered to its branch. One whisper and I'd blow him away.

"What?" Vinny said again, stunned. "Of course I'm fine."

"But you just, you look—"

I was cut off by a loud wail from down the hallway, incomprehensible at first, then merging itself into words: "Blondie! Your brother's awake!"

Vinny had already forgotten our previous conversation; he was up, sprinting down the hall. Nura and I shared a wary look before following him, at a much more steady pace.

Within me was a mix of feelings as I made my way down the corridor, towards the room we'd brought Cian to. I wanted to be happy, wanted to be excited—after all, it felt like eternity since I'd seen Cian, talked to Cian, and his absence was an incessant ache in my chest, corporeal or not. But there was something else—a looming discomfort, a shadow before my eyes. The loss of his wings had hurt him enough. Was he truly ready to be human, after all this time?