The year is 1879. When thirteen-year-old Ruth Merritt Holbrook emerges from her family's burning estate, bloody and charred, but entirely numb--She makes headlines. Reporters believe she is deranged. They accuse her of having set the fire. All the h...
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"You are still in England."
This is the first thing he says to me when he sees me. This is, of course, after he has already barreled past the housekeeper, past an indignant Sariel, and up the stairs to my bedroom where I am sketching at my writing desk. Thankfully, I was clothed.
"Yes," I had said, "And you are standing, unannounced, in my bedroom."
I had not turned to look at him, but I knew in my soul that Leviathan Desmott was glaring at me.
"Merritt, I asked you to leave before—"
"Stop." The word tore from me, sharp and cutting.
This was the moment I had longed for, the moment I had been willing to venture out into the night to obtain. And now I was so bitterly afraid of it. I could not decide what was worse, him recognizing me for who I was or him not recognizing me at all. I thought of the blade strapped to my hip—it could all end now. Maybe I should do it before I even give him the chance to speak another word.
I closed the book I'd been sketching in and slowly stood up. I kept my back to him as I asked, "Why did you warn me about Lucius?"
"I told you, he would do terrible things to you—"
"But you have never shied away from terrible things before." The words came out as a breath, one exhale carrying words like leaves on the wind. The words, soft and fragile, hit him fully and he made a sound deep in his chest, a sort of pained groan.
He cleared his throat and said, "What?"
There were footsteps on the stairs, the distant sound of other people talking on the level below us. I spoke quickly, rushing to get the question out before I could be stopped. Before someone could interrupt us. "There have been other people—other girls before me who you could have saved and you chose not to. And what of the people you referenced in your letter, the others who Lucius suspected. Did they not heed your warnings or did those warnings never leave your lips?"
He hesitated. "I tried to warn them. I sent letters; I even visited a few of the people on his list. Merritt, you are not the only person he suspects. Since the day he heard there was even a chance of an angel coming to earth he's been—"
"Get out of my house."
I turned to see Gabriel's hand grab Leviathan's shoulder. The angel pulled him backward and Leviathan might have had a fair shot of fending him off if he hadn't caught sight of my face right at that very moment. I saw it happen—saw the look of outright horror that fell across his face. He knew me. Suddenly I was no stranger to him.
The noise that came from him was pained and feral. It registered as something akin to a laugh and a sob. A broken noise unlike any I'd heard. He looked at me, wide-eyed and frightened. This was my worst nightmare and wildest hope all delivered in one instant.
