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“So where’d you come from anyway, Sunshine?” Elijah asks.
The nickname makes my cheeks heat every time—there’s something about the way it rolls off his tongue that sends pleasure shooting deep into the pit of my stomach, like when I read romance novels.
“Dallas,” I say simply. “I came from Dallas. Thought you’d have figured that out by now.”
He chuckles. “And she’ssassy, too. Just assumed you were being shy and stubborn yesterday, but it seems kitty’s got claws.”
“And I’ll scratch your eyes out with them if you get too close,” I deadpan. It’s not a lie, either; I slept with a knife under my pillow last night. But he hasn’t shown any interest in hurting me, and for that, I’m grateful.
And…
…well, he’s interesting.
It isn’t all that bad having a traveling companion when you’ve never had the pleasure of a stranger’s company.
“Okay,” he says. “If you won’t tell me where you’re from, how about a little about yourself?” He gestures at Gran’s violin, which I still carry on my other shoulder. I haven’t dared to open up the case to see if the instrument is damaged—after our tussle yesterday, I’m certain something has gone wrong, even if it’s just a broken string. “For instance, do you know how to play that fiddle?”
“No, I’m just carrying it around for fun,” I say with a roll of my eyes.
He sighs and I smirk, glancing over at him.
“Yeah, I know how to play it. Not as well as my Gran, but well enough.”
“Sounds like you two are close.”
I nod. Eventalkingabout her makes me miss her more, but I feel compelled to tell him about her—about both of them. Like talking about Gran and Pa will make them more real, more safe, to be surrounded with my good will.
“We are,” I say. “She’s a—well, shewas—a concert violinist, before the Convergence. But she was raised on Texas fiddle.”
Elijah grins. “So she’s a real fun lady.”
“She really is,” I smile back.
“And your grandfather? What about him?”
“What do you mean?” I frown.
“Like—what did he do before the Convergence? I always love hearing stories from old veterans. Just…imagining what the world was like before all this.” He gestures up at the Celestial Curtain, flickering that unsettling shade of red.
“Oh,” I say. “Uh. Well, funny enough, he was a Professor of Divinity at UNT. So he was already kind of in the angel business by the time they came around.”
“And did he think they were real?”
I glance over at him. I’ve been told not to talk about these things, but now that I’ve let it slip that Pa studied Divinity, it feels like I’m already too far gone. And besides—what is Elijah going to do about it?
Turns out it feelsdamn goodto be able to talk to someone who isn’t my grandparents.
“No,” I say decisively. “He thought they were imposters.”
“Do you still believe in God?”
I glare at him. “Invasive much?”
He raises his hands. “Hey—sorry,” he says. “You may have noticed I’m not much for politeness. Wasn’t raised that way.”
“How is it thatI’mthe more polite of the two of us?” I say. “I was raised by two people who never let me outside.”
“And I was raised by wolves,” Elijah pauses. “Wait—they never let you outside?”
