“He doesn’t want me that way,” Emma said. “So it doesn’t matter. I just—” She broke off. She didn’t know what else to say or how to say it. There was never going to be another Julian for her.
Don’t think that way. Just because you can’t imagine loving anyone else doesn’t mean that you won’t. But the soft inner voice of her father didn’t reassure her this time.
“I just don’t know why it’s illegal,” she finished, though that had not been what she had meant to say. “It doesn’t make any sense. Julian and I have done everything together, for years, we’ve lived and nearly died for each other, how could there be anyone else better for me than him? Anyone else better—” She broke off again.
“Emma, please don’t think like this. It doesn’t matter why it’s illegal. It just matters that it is. The Law is hard, but it is the Law.”
“A bad law is no law,” Emma countered, swinging a hard right onto Pico Boulevard. Pico ran almost the full length of metropolitan Los Angeles—it was swanky, gritty, dangerous, abandoned, and industrial by turns. Here between the freeway and the ocean it was full of small businesses and restaurants.
“That motto has not served the Blackthorns well,” Cristina murmured, and Emma was about to ask her what she meant when Cristina sat up straight. “Here,” she said, pointing. “Sterling’s here. I just saw him go into that building.”
On the south side of the road was a low, sloping brown-painted building, windowless, with a single door and a sign proclaiming NO ONE UNDER 21 ALLOWED.
“Looks friendly,” Emma muttered, and pulled over to park.
They got out of the car and went to collect their weapons. They already bore glamour runes, and the few pedestrians passing by—hardly anyone walked in L.A., and while there were plenty of cars around, there were very few people—looked through them as if they weren’t there. A girl with bright green hair glanced at Emma as she passed by, but didn’t stop.
“You’re right,” Emma said as they buckled on their seraph blades. Each blade had a small hook that allowed it to be affixed to a weapons belt and removed with a quick downward jerk of the hand. “About Julian. I know you are.”
Cristina gave her a quick, one-armed hug. “And you will do the right thing. I know you will.”
Emma was already scanning the building, looking for entrances. There were no windows that she could see, but a narrow alley snaked around the back of the bar, partially blocked by an overgrown patch of needle grass. She gestured toward it, and she and Cristina slipped silently through the low, dusty vegetation that grew—barely—in the polluted air.
The sun was setting, and it was dark in the alley behind the bar. A row of chained-together trash cans were propped under a barred and boarded-up window.
“I can get the bars off, if I climb up there,” Emma whispered, indicating the trash cans.
“Okay, wait.” Cristina pulled out her stele. “Runes.”
Cristina’s runes were careful, precise, and beautiful. Emma could feel the power of a strength rune jolt through her like a kick of caffeine. It wasn’t like having Julian put runes on her—that felt as if his strength were flowing into her, doubling her own.
Cristina turned around, shrugging her jacket down, presenting the line of her bare shoulder to Emma. She handed the stele to Emma, who began to draw—two overlapping Soundless runes, Sure-Strike, Flexibility.
“Please don’t think I’m angry,” Cristina said, facing the opposite wall. “I worry for you, is all. You are so strong, Emma. You are strong down to your bones. People live through heartbreak, and you are strong enough to live through it many times. But Julian is not someone who can just touch your heart. He can touch your soul. And there is a difference between having your heart break and having your soul shatter.”
The stele faltered in Emma’s hand. “I thought the Angel had a plan.”
“He does. But please don’t love him, Emma.” Cristina’s voice broke. “Please.”
There was a catch in Emma’s throat when she spoke. “Who broke your heart?”
Cristina turned around, shrugging her jacket back on. Her brown eyes were serious. “You told me a secret, so I will tell you a secret. I was in love with Diego, and I thought he was in love with me. But it was all a lie. I thought his brother was my best friend, but that was a lie too. That is why I ran away. Why I came here.” She looked away. “I lost them both. My best friend and my best love, on the same day. It was hard for me to believe that Raziel had a plan then.”
My best friend and my best love.
Cristina took the stele and slid it back into her belt.
“I’m not the one who’s strong, Tina. That’s you.”
Cristina gave her a quick smile and held out her hand. “Go.”
Grabbing Cristina’s hand, Emma pushed off to propel herself upward. Her boots hit the top of the trash cans, making the chain rattle. She grabbed the bars of the window and pulled, liking the bite of the metal into her palms.
The bars pulled free of the soft stucco with a shower of tiny pebbles. Emma handed the metal grid down, and Cristina tossed it into the grass. Emma reached a hand down, and a second later Cristina was beside her and they were both peering into a smudged window at a dirty back kitchen. Water was running in a massive metal sink full of glasses.