Chapter Forty-one.

Michael's blood rushed into my mouth. I staggered from the force of its flow and the power of its images. I'd never known his blood to have such strength, but then I'd never procured it by violent means before.

Looking through Michael's eyes, I stood on the second floor landing of his house. A tall, elegantly curved grandfather clock stood next to me, and its hands met at twelve. I peered down the curved staircase and caught the tiniest glimpse of my parents and his parents in the entryway. They were talking in hushed tones-presumably so as not to awaken Michael-but I could hear them if I strained and ignored the ticking. Interestingly, though, the scene looked filmy, as if Michael's vision was hazy.

"What is it, Hananel? You look distraught," Michael's mom asked.

"Ellspeth is gone." My own eyes welled up with tears at the despair in my usually unflappable mother's voice.

"What do you mean 'gone'?" She sounded alarmed.

"I mean that she was supposed to be home by five, after she had coffee with her friend, Ruth. I'd given Ellspeth a special exemption from her grounding to meet with Ruth, since their friendship had been strained lately-" My mom's voice broke, and I saw my dad put his arm around her shoulder as she cried.

"It's all right, Hananel. What happened?" Michael's mom prompted her.

"Ellspeth didn't come home. I waited until six to contact Ruth, who claimed to be confused because she had dropped Ellspeth at our house. But Daniel and I didn't believe her, so we asked Ruth to come over. She was visibly nervous when she arrived; obviously she knew something. At first, she clung to her original story that she had brought Ellspeth home. We used the vestiges of our skills to find out more, but all Ruth knew was that Ellspeth had had some kind of fight with Michael. So, at Ellspeth's insistence, Ruth took her to the train station. Ruth didn't know where Ellspeth planned to go." Silently, I cheered on Ruth for keeping quiet about the flying. Even though my parents already knew about it, of course.

"But you're afraid that it's more than a teenage fight? You think that she left for other reasons?" Michael's mom asked.

"Yes, Sariel," my dad answered. "We talked to Ellspeth last night. We read her the pa.s.sage about the Nephilim and-"

"What?" Michael's dad practically yelled.

"Keep your voice down, Armaros," Michael's mom warned. Sariel? Armaros? Hadn't I seen those names in the Book of Enoch? Michael's parents must be "good" fallen angels too, as I'd suspected.

"You didn't tell her who she is, did you?" Armaros asked, his voice incredulous.

"Don't be ridiculous. Her ignorance is the only thing that has protected her so far. The same goes for Michael. You know that," my dad said. He was as angry as I'd ever heard him.

"Then why would you come so dangerously close to revealing the truth to her?"

"Her powers have started to emerge. The poor thing thought she was a vampire. We needed to give her just enough information to dissuade her of that misconception-and explaining the link between the fallen angels and vampires was the only way. We didn't tell her anything more." I knew that this last point wasn't exactly true, but I was glad Armaros didn't. He was fierce.

"Daniel, how could you be so foolish? We were meant to protect them longer, keep them unaware until they were ready. Until it was time." Armaros continued sparring with my dad.

"What were our choices, Armaros? To let her go on believing she was a vampire? And have Michael believe the same thing too? Such thinking would bring them precariously close to darkness. When Ezekiel or the others emerge, as they undoubtedly will, it would make Ellspeth and Michael easy prey for their dark purposes."

I felt something snap in Michael, almost like he'd woken up. And suddenly I saw the image more clearly, not through some bizarre haze. I guessed that the haze was the residue of Ezekiel's influence.

"You're right, Daniel. But while it is one thing for Ellspeth to be aware of her differences, it is quite another for her to even suspect who she is. You may have opened the door just enough to put Ellspeth and Michael in play, a.s.suming Ellspeth told him what she knows," Armarmos barked back at my dad. Then he said quietly, "You might have even triggered the end days."

"You don't think I know that, Armaros? Hananel and I tried so hard to make Ellspeth feel like a regular human-to align her with mankind when it's time and to stave off her powers and the clock. You don't think I've worried myself sick over when to tell her who she is? When to begin preparing her for the battle that rages beneath the surface in this naive world? We have walked a very fine line between keeping her safe and innocent and preparing her for war. How can we possibly know the best course for Ellspeth and Michael when we haven't seen their kind since-"

Armaros interrupted. With venom. "Since the beginning."

"Enough fighting," my mom interjected. "We don't know that either Ellspeth or Michael know anything of significance. We do know that Ellspeth is gone, and we need to find her. We have sent a gifted friend to track her down and bring her home, since obviously we cannot go ourselves-"

"Obviously," Michael's mom interrupted.

"And we were hoping that you might send one of your friends to do the same," my mom finished.

"We would be happy to do so, Hananel." Michael's mom paused and then said, "Thank goodness, Michael doesn't know anything."

"Nothing?" My mom sounded skeptical.

"He senses his powers, of course. But, otherwise, he seemed perfectly normal at dinner tonight. If a little subdued."

"He didn't mention a fight with Ellspeth?"

"No. But then, you know how teenagers are."

"Are you certain that he is uninformed?"

"Insofar as I can be certain of anything with the limitations of this mortal body."

"Perhaps you should check on him."

"Perhaps I should."

The stairs began to creak as Sariel walked up to Michael's bedroom. I watched through his eyes as he scurried back to his bedroom and threw himself under the covers. The wooden floorboards squeaked as she approached his bed and hovered over it for several minutes. Then she tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind her.

The image faded. I stood before Michael, staring into his waiting eyes. He looked almost sick as he antic.i.p.ated my judgment on the image he had summoned up for me.

"Do you believe me? Do you believe that Ezekiel doesn't have a hold on me any longer?"

I did. I knew he was telling the truth. In fact, I sensed the very moment when the cord between Michael and Ezekiel was cut-it was when my dad mentioned Ezekiel by name-and I knew that Michael came to Boston of his own volition. Not under Ezekiel's sway or for Ezekiel's purposes.

"I do, Michael."

"Thank G.o.d."

Michael wrapped his arms around me, and I let him. I didn't return the embrace. I wasn't ready. But I couldn't stay mad at him either. Through Ezekiel's eyes, I'd seen Ezekiel turn powerful, grown men and women into his followers. Into monsters. How did I expect Michael to resist?

"Ellie, I promise that I will never betray you again. We're in this together, against Ezekiel."

"I hope so, Michael." I really did. But how could I be certain that Michael wouldn't fall under Ezekiel's influence again? I knew Ezekiel would be a constant presence, in one form or another, and Michael seemed to be susceptible to Ezekiel in a way that I wasn't. I would have to be vigilant, to constantly a.s.sess Michael for any changes, by touch or by blood if necessary.

But for now, it was enough that Michael was back. And that I was no longer entirely alone.

Chapter Forty-two.

Hand in hand, we raced across the Harvard campus toward the square. The lights from the stores and restaurants and theater blinded my sensitive eyes after the dimness of the campus pathways. In the few seconds it took for them to adjust, Michael led me down into the murky tunnels of the T; the strange disorientation I'd experienced on the Harvard campus must have been an Ezekiel trick. I bristled at the thought of being underground-trapped-but with Ezekiel so near, we had no choice.

I had told Michael where we needed to go and how fast we needed to get there. To his credit, he didn't ask why. He just asked how he could help us reach Professor Barr.

At Michael's suggestion, I had tried to reach Professor Barr by phone first, without success. The time difference was working against us, so we decided the quickest-and perhaps only-way to reach him under the circ.u.mstances was to fly to London.

After quickly mapping out the necessary connections to get from the Harvard Square Station to Logan Airport, we stood on the train platform. Using Michael's cell, we booked seats on the British Airways flight to London. And then we waited. An ancient clock loomed over our heads and tapped out the minutes, as if reminding us how little time we had before the gate would close. I wished that we ourselves could fly to London, but neither of us knew whether we had the ability to fly such far distances.

Finally, finally, in the far distance, I heard the rumbling of the train. I thanked G.o.d. I didn't think my nerves could stand one more second of delay. One more second for Ezekiel to find us.

The crowds started to converge on the cramped platform as the train slowed down. As the doors opened, people jostled for spots in the already packed train car. I reached for Michael's hand to make sure we didn't lose each other. Before his hand gripped mine, I saw a familiar head of blond hair in the crowd pouring into the train.

I stopped. Was it Ezekiel?

I felt the warmth of Michael's hand in mine, and yet I still couldn't move. The man looked like he was about to hop on board, but was hesitating. Should we stay here-and risk missing our flight-or get on an enclosed subway car with Ezekiel for company?

Michael pulled me toward the open train doors. They had started to beep in antic.i.p.ation of closing. "Come on, Ellie. The doors are about to shut."

My body was rigid. Michael spun around and saw my expression. He followed my gaze and understood immediately the source of my fear.

"Ellie, it's not Ezekiel."

The man was facing the other way, so I couldn't see his features. But his hair so resembled Ezekiel's distinctive color and style, I didn't trust Michael. "How do you know?"

Rather than wasting precious time explaining, Michael released my hand, ran over to the man, and tapped him on the shoulder. When the man turned around, I saw the ruddy face of a young college student. Not Ezekiel.

Just before the doors slid shut, Michael dragged me on board. College students jammed the car, so we clutched onto the metal rings for support as the train lurched forward. I exhaled in relief and willed my heart to stop racing.

At the next stop, the Central Square Station, most of the students got off. A bench opened up. We grabbed it and settled in for the fifteen-minute ride to South Station, where we'd transfer to the bus for Logan.

We rode in silence. I became acutely aware of all that we hadn't talked about: the overheard conversations of our parents, my discussions with Professor McMaster, Michael's time alone with Ezekiel. The unspoken words hung between us, like a screen separating us. I didn't want to feel so detached from Michael, but I didn't know where to start. Or how to break through the divide.

Finally, Michael tried. He looked at me, with a serious and sad expression, and asked, "Ellie, what are we?"

I hesitated. I wasn't certain of my conclusion at all, but he deserved to know the most logical a.s.sumption. "I think we're something called Nephilim. But I'm not really sure what that means."

Michael's lips formed the first of many questions, but my eyes suddenly grew heavy. I hadn't slept for nearly two days. He whispered, "It's all right, Ellie. Go to sleep. We have plenty of time to figure this all out. I'll stay awake so we don't miss our stop."

His arms enfolded me, and I returned the gesture. I hadn't hugged him since he returned to himself. And it felt good.

For the first time since I met Michael on Ransom Beach, I relaxed and closed my eyes. His arms and his rea.s.surances that we would uncover the mysteries of our beings together soothed me. I wanted to thank him, so I forced my eyes open a little.

My drowsy vision settled on a sweet-faced blond girl wearing a Harvard sweatshirt walking down the train car aisle. She resembled the helpful girl from the peaceful brick courtyard, the one who advised me to think about the questions. I thought she smiled at me. I started to smile back, but then a disturbing question crossed my mind. It wiped away all thoughts of sleep. With all the thousands of college students in Cambridge, what were the odds that I'd run into the same person twice within a few hours? Slim, very slim.

Chapter Forty-three.

My eyes flew open, and I looked at her a little closer. It was the girl from the Harvard courtyard. It couldn't be a coincidence.

I nudged Michael to watch the girl as she continued down the aisle in our direction. The train hurtled down the tracks, plunging the car deeper and deeper into the warren of underground T tunnels and making any immediate escape impossible. But the girl seemed impervious to the jolting of the train; she just walked serenely toward us.

As she approached our seat, the older man on the bench facing us got up. Even though the train hadn't slowed and we were nowhere near a station. She settled into the vacated seat and beamed that sweet smile at me.

"h.e.l.lo, Ellspeth."

I didn't think I'd told her my name during our brief discussion in the courtyard. And I certainly wouldn't have called myself Ellspeth even if I had. "How do you know my name?"

"Your parents sent me." From the conversation Michael had overheard, I knew that my parents had mentioned sending a "friend" to watch over me. But how did I know she wasn't a "friend" of Ezekiel's instead?

As if she knew I needed rea.s.surance, the girl said, "Your mother asked me to give you this, as a sign of my loyalty to you. And to Michael, of course." Although she referred to Michael as if he was an afterthought.

She put an object in my hand, and then closed my fist around it. I opened my fingers one by one, and discovered my mother's locket inside. I had never seen my mom without it. How had this girl gotten it from her? I guessed she could have taken it from my mom by force, even though my intuition told me otherwise.

To answer my unspoken question, the girl placed her hand over mine. I received a precise, vivid flash, as if she explicitly sent the image to me. It was a very different sensation than retrieving information from people's minds.

In the image, my mom and the girl stood in the entryway of our house. My mom unfastened her locket and gingerly placed it in the girl's waiting palm.

"Take care of Ellspeth for me, and bring her home. Give her this for me if she resists your good intentions." My mom smiled, and continued. "And knowing my strong-willed daughter, she may well resist."

"I will, Hananel."

The girl turned to leave, but my mom grabbed her by the arm before she went out the door. My mom gazed into the girl's eyes, as if she was speaking through them to me. "Please make Ellspeth understand that, by not rushing to her side, I'm not abandoning her. I'm trying to help her. And please tell her that there were reasons-vital reasons-why we didn't tell her who she is, or prepare her for what's to come."

"I promise, Hananel."

The image faded. I found myself back in the train car, clutching on to Michael's arm and staring into the face of an angel. For surely that is what she was. Her face had the same exquisite, timeless quality as did my parents. Or as my parents used to have, anyway.

I placed the locket around my neck. Sensing that her message was successfully received, the girl stretched out her hand to me. "Please come with me. We will get off at the next stop and fly somewhere safe."

I looked to Michael for agreement. He gave me a quick nod, so I took her hand and stood up. As did Michael. "Who are you?" I asked.

"I am Tamiel," she answered as we started walking through the car. "I am also one of the fallen, trying for grace. Like both sets of your parents."

We followed Tamiel to the closed train doors. As we listened to the train hurtle down the tracks, I whispered, "I have so many questions."

She smiled that sweet, calming smile I'd seen in the Harvard courtyard. "I know, Ellspeth. I sensed that when we met earlier. So I guided you to a place where you could have certain questions answered without any harm befalling you. But I was tasked to bring you to safety. Not to illuminate you fully. It isn't time yet."

"Please, Tamiel. What are we?"

A crash sounded in the adjoining car, and we all jumped. Tamiel grabbed our arms and said, "We need to get out of here."

"Why?"