Days of New: The Complete Collection (Serials 1-5) by Meg Collett Page B

Keeper.
    “So it wasn’t just a dream then?” Liam sighed.
    “No. It really happened.” Clark took a deep breath. He thought he was done speaking of Lucifer in present terms. Of course, he’d felt bad when he’d killed the angel; it’d been an accident. But now he had seen firsthand that Lucifer was something different, both in the dream with Camille and whatever had happened earlier today. Now he just regretted that he hadn’t intentionally pushed Lucifer into the fire. If he had, then he could’ve pushed harder. “I think it was Lucifer,” he finished.
    Liam blinked. To give the Keeper credit, he didn’t laugh outright. He understood Clark’s abilities too well, and he had too much respect for the angels for that. “By Lucifer, you mean…”
    “He’s alive. I know it. I feel it.”
    “Clark, this is crazy—”
    “I know, but listen. I found a burnt black feather on the roof.”
    “Zarachiel told me.”
    “Can you think of any other crispy-fried fallen angels?”
    “Maybe not, but Lucifer didn’t have wings.”
    Clark took a deep breath. He hadn’t told anyone this yet, hadn’t even really let himself consider it yet. “He does now,” he said, remembering the massive, terrifying black wings Lucifer had sported in his dream about Camille.
    Liam recoiled. With his sharper Nephil senses, Clark caught the first hint of fear from the Keeper, which meant he understood. “How do you know this?”
    “A dream I had.”
    Liam swore. “You’re saying that he was reborn somehow?”
    “That’s a good way to put it. I believe he’s coming after me. I think—no, I know —that he wants the magic.” The marks on Clark’s arms itched viciously. Looking down at them, the ink seemed to swim before his eyes, as if the language was speaking to him. Absentmindedly, he rubbed his hand across the marks on his left arm, and they quieted beneath his touch.
    “Christ, Clark.” Liam ran his broad hand over his face. He was a handsome guy with a square jaw and sharp eyes, but the Keeper’s duty aged young men into old ones with the blink of the eye. Clark already saw a sprinkle of gray along his temples. “This is bad.”
    “No shit.”
    The silence stretched out while Liam considered Clark’s revelation, the strain evident in his narrowed eyes. “Look, let’s keep this between ourselves for now, okay? I don’t want to freak people out too soon.”
    Clark snorted. “They should be freaked out. I’m scared shitless.”
    “We can bring in a few Descendants, but I don’t want this reaching the Nephilim. Uh…” Liam paused awkwardly, regarding Clark. “No offense or anything.”
    Clark waved off the remark. Honestly, he considered himself more Descendant than Nephil, and that was really saying something, because he’d hated the Descendants all his life. “Why don’t you want to tell the Nephilim?”
    “There’s too much tension. You saw Ezekiel. The guy hates you. And we’re walking a fine line here, having us all under one roof. I mean, hell, two years ago we would have shot a Nephil on sight. Now, we are expected to share our resources with them? It’s tough medicine to take, no matter how good Michaela’s intentions were.”
    “Why would telling them about Lucifer set them off?”
    “It just adds to the tension, makes everyone scared. We can’t afford that now when the Descendants blame the angels for everything and the Nephilim blame the Descendants for not taking Michaela’s side.”
    “Good point.” Clark thought for a minute. “Sophia’s sister—I mean, Maya—wants me to get her out of an arranged marriage with Ezekiel. That’s why she came here. I guess I probably shouldn’t bring that up either?”
    Liam sank to one of the chairs lining the edge of the gigantic meeting table. He had to be desperate for comfort because they were hell on the ass. His head dropped, sagging between his shoulders. For the first time, Clark realized how skinny the man had become. His broad