World After (Penryn & the End of Days 2)

“Why is it that everyone else can look like they’re part of a zombie hunting party, but I still have to worry about fashion?”

He won’t stop snickering. “You look like a leopard-spotted Shar-Pei. ”

I think those are the little pug-like dogs drowning in massive folds of skin. “You’re scarring me, you know. It could haunt me for the rest of my life to be called a wrinkly little dog at the tender age of seventeen. ”

“Yup. A sensitive girl. That just defines you, Penryn. ” The firelight softens his features and warms his skin. “But if you must have an ego boost for your tender side, I will admit that you looked great with wings. ” Raffe says this last part in a wistful voice.

I suddenly feel awkward. “Thanks… I think. ”

“You don’t want to look great with wings?”

“I’m just scared this may be a setup for me being the butt of a so-called joke, like, um, how I may look like a wrinkly dog with wings but I have a nice personality or something. ” I look up at the ceiling as I think about it. “Okay, that didn’t come out funny at all, so it would have been a really bad joke. ”

“Oh, don’t worry. You’re safe,” he says in a reassuring voice. “I’d never tell you that you have a nice personality. ”

I give him a dirty look and he chuckles at his own teasing comment.

And just like that, he’s back to the same Raffe I got to know on the road.

WE HEAT water on the gas stove, which still works as long as you light it with a match. Then we sit by the fireplace, drinking hot water from mugs while I tell him what I’ve been up to since we last saw each other. The warmth feels so good I want to curl up and fall asleep.

“Where is my sword?”

I take a deep breath. I haven’t mentioned the sword dreams. It would feel a little too much like admitting I snooped into his life. “I had to leave it in a pile of stuff on Pier 39 in San Francisco when I got caught. ”

“You left her?”

I nod. “I had no choice. ”

“She wasn’t made to be alone. ”

“I guess no

ne of us are. ”

Our eyes meet and an electric tingle runs through me.

“She missed you,” I say in a whisper.

“Did she?” His voice is a soft caress. His gaze into my eyes is so intense that I swear he sees straight into my soul.

“Yes. ” Warmth flushes my cheeks. I… “She thought about you all the time. ”

The candlelight flickers a soft glow along his jawline, along his lips. “I hated losing her. ” His voice is a low growl. “I hadn’t realized just how attached I’d gotten. ” He reaches and moves a strand of wet hair out of my face. “How dangerously addictive she could be. ”

His gaze pins me to my spot and I can’t move, can’t breathe.

“Maybe a girl needs to hear that. Maybe she wants to be with you, too. ” The words come out in a rushed whisper.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He shakes his head. “It can’t be. ”

“Why?”

“Rules. Custom. Danger. It’s dangerous to be with me. ”

“It’s dangerous to be without you. ” I nudge closer to the fire.

He reaches out and adjusts my blanket around my shoulders. “That doesn’t change the rules, though. ”

I close my eyes and feel the warmth of his fingers brushing my neck. “Who cares about the rules? It’s the end of the world, remember?”

“Rules are important to us. Angels are a warrior race. ”

“I noticed. But what does that have to do with it?”

“The only way to keep a society of killers together for eons is to have a strict chain of command and zero tolerance for breach of rules. Otherwise, we all would have slaughtered each other a long time ago. ”

“Even if the rules make no sense?”

“Sometimes they make sense. ” He grins. “But that’s beside the point. The point is to have warriors follow their orders, not to judge them. ”

“What if it keeps you from things and people you care about?”

“Especially then. That’s often the most effective punishment. Death is not much of a threat to a true warrior. But take away your Daughter of Man, your children, your friends, your sword—these are true punishments. ”

I can’t help myself. I lean close to him so that my face is just a kiss away. “We’re really scary, aren’t we?”

He looks at my lips almost involuntarily. But he doesn’t back off or lean forward one millimeter. He arches his brow at me. “Daughters of Men are truly dangerous. Not to mention truly annoying. ” He shrugs. “In a yappy, occasionally cute kind of way. ”

I lean back. “I’m beginning to understand why your sword left you. ” Ouch. That came out wrong. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”