“Don’t know.” She glanced over at Annie. “First time.”
“What?” Claire could almost hear the steam building in her friend’s head. “What?”
“Annie.” Eric laid his hand on her arm. She ignored him, staring at Claire.
“I said, it is my first time.”
“You—you put—” She was so angry she could barely string two words together. Claire found it oddly fascinating, since Annie was never at a loss for words. “You risked your life for that—that—”
“Angel.”
“He’s a selfish bastard, using you like—like a—”
“Zach didn’t know.” Setting the soup down, she took both Annie’s hands. “I helped him, knowing it could cost my life, because I understand the anguish, the absolute helplessness he felt. I couldn’t walk away from it. I couldn’t, Annie.”
“You gave away part of yourself—I saw it.” Tears choked her voice.
“I gave him my grace. What connected me to Heaven. It allowed him to return—just long enough, so he can fall.”
“You mean—he falls. Literally.”
“Yes.”
“Holy shit.”
Laughter burst out of Claire. It felt good. She felt good. For the first time, she understood what people meant when they said they were at peace.
“You don’t need to stay, Annie. It could be a long wait.”
“I’ll go if you do—we can rest, come back—”
“I made a promise. I have to be here for him. He’s going to need someone to ease him into life as a mortal.”
Annie pulled her hands free.
“For how long.”
“As long as he needs me. Eric, please take her out of this cold. I can see how much she’s hurting, and stubborn doesn’t cure that.” She cradled her friend’s cheek. “I love you for wanting to protect me, to stand by me even when I make foolish mistakes. Now go home.”
“I won’t leave you here alone,” Annie whispered.
“I won’t be alone.” Claire glanced over at the house. Where Simon stood. After helping her sit, he retreated, not saying a word, and looking at her only when he thought she didn’t notice. “Please, sweetheart. I won’t have you getting sick on top of everything else you suffered today.”
Nodding, Annie leaned in, kissed her cheek. “Watching you out here, the real you, that was beyond awesome. You looked like the angel I always pictured in my head. How did it feel?”
“Liberating. Thank you, my friend.”
Annie hugged her, groaning as Eric lifted her in his arms. “What you did was a good thing, Claire,” he said. “I felt his anguish, when you touched him. And I understand what it’s like to live with that.”
She swallowed, tears stinging her eyes, as she watched Eric carry Annie to the car. They loved, so much, it just radiated from them. She looked forward to being a part of their lives, sharing in the joy of their love.
Sighing, she wiped her eyes, picked up her soup. And heard Simon approach.
“You don’t need to stay.”
She nearly spilled her soup when he spoke. “He will need to be blessed.”
Carefully setting the container on the grass, she looked up at him. “How do you know?”
“I read.”
She bit her lip on a smile.
“Please, stop—my ears are bleeding.”
His lips twitched. “I read a lot.”
“Tell me.”
Still staring past her, he swallowed. “What you did here—it shouldn’t have been possible. You—changed his essence. You—”
“Freed him.” She swallowed, afraid of his response to her next words. “Please sit. I’m tired of talking to your knees.”
He did. Out of arm’s reach. The reason hurt her heart.
“I will bless him, because he will be an innocent. Then I want nothing more to do with him. Or with you.” He finally looked at her, his clear green eyes so cold she wanted to retreat. “Are we clear?”
“Absolutely.”
To give herself a distraction from the grief threatening to gnaw straight through her, she picked up her soup, methodically drank it. She told herself she would need the energy, but the action gave her an excuse to keep from looking at Simon. His animosity scraped across her skin, slid into her already aching heart.
Once she finished, she had nothing else to do to keep herself occupied. With a sigh, she pulled the blanket tighter against the cooling air, rubbed at the leather band on her wrist, and settled in to wait.
*
The sun was setting when Zachariah fell.
Claire stood, shedding the blanket and Annie’s jacket. The cold wind bit her through the thin lace of her camisole.