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He glanced over at me, probably to make sure I didn’t mistake him for an ax murderer again. “But angelic DNA is dominant. Those traits can’t stay dormant forever.”

“What does that mean?”

He smirked. “It means you’re part angel, baby.”

I heard what he said, but the words didn’t register. They went right over my head. With the freaking halo I had, apparently. Angels. Demons. Magic—Source. I took a deep breath to try and stifle the panic.

“How does that even happen?” I twisted a strand of hair, not sure I wanted to know the answer.

“Well, when an angel and human love each other very much…”

Not those details. “I actually took sex ed, but thanks for being so willing to give me a refresher.” I rolled my eyes. “Aren’t angels supposed to be in heaven or something like that?”

He laughed softly, running his tongue along his molars. “Figures you’d bring that up. Heaven, hell. Good and evil. Those concepts are for mortals, not us.” He scrunched the hair on the crown of his head, pulling the unbridled strands out of his eyes with the hand that wasn’t driving. “The angels are in another realm, and they used to come to Earth on assignment. Some stayed for the mortals—those were our ancestors, and unlucky for them, they were totally star-crossed. It’s forbidden for an angel to get romantically involved with a human.”

My heart seemed to have inched up my throat, and I had to gulp it back down. “What happened to them—the angels that fell in love with mortals?”

“They were punished, banished.” Ryder shrugged. “No one really knows for sure.”

“Do angels not come here anymore, then?”

“Supposedly a few. But we never see them.”

It felt absurd to be having this conversation as the trees cleared and we sped past a liquor store, but at least the return to familiar civilization grounded me so I could ask the important questions. “What kind of assignments?”

“Someone’s suddenly curious.” Yeah, well it wasn’t often he willingly provided me info, so I was taking advantage of it. His smile had faded, but the left corner of his mouth still twitched up. “Deliver messages, provide strength and comfort, mete out judgement…”

“So, what does that make you then? My guardian angel?” It was supposed to come off funny and sarcastic, but it came out exactly how I felt: scared, overwhelmed, and done. Totally done. Doner than I was earlier—and I hadn’t thought that was possible.

Ryder shifted in his seat and hunched his shoulders. I could literally see him retreating into himself. “I don’t know what I am anymore.”

His emo response would’ve annoyed me more, but I sighed, because that made two of us.

If Ryder was right and I was Neph…Nephli…ugh, whatever it was, part-human part-angel, did that mean my parents were, too? Obviously, it would. But were both? Was one? Did the other know? Was my mom condemned for love? So many questions spiraled in my mind.

Something occurred to me. “Do the angels, do they ever…communicate in other ways with you?”

He raised a brow. “Like…”

“Like through sounds or your mind or I don’t know, handwritten letters?” I figured I’d make it as general as possible so as not to reveal myself, but my voice came out small, mouselike with embarrassment.

“No.”

Wow. Sharp and to the point and not even a breath between my last word and his. Any hope I had shattered, but I had to think the Voices would’ve said something if they were literal angels. A knot formed in my stomach and prickled my senses, irritating those vertical scars on my back. Maybe they did—at one point or another they’d mentioned powers and apocalypse and I’d been too scared and stubborn to listen, and…I would hear them out now if they just came back.

Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “Are you saying I’ve been surfing alongside these beings and serving them drip coffee this whole time without realizing it?”

He nodded.

I envisioned the impassive employee at the Boardwalk ticket booth counter, the girl with the choppy bangs in my class. The longboarder dude who paddled out next to me, the quadruple-shot-extra-foam-two-pumps-sugar-free-vanilla-latte drinker who never tipped. They had all seemed normal. Was it a mask?

“What are they doing here?” I caught myself. “What are we doing here?”

“Trying to get by, like the rest of humanity.” Why did he sound. So. Indifferent.

Meanwhile, I was on the verge of hyperventilation. “Sounds complicated when you’ve got monsters spawning out of nowhere. I’d say life is a bit more dangerous on your side of the tracks.”

“Demons,” Ryder corrected. “Which are really the tortured souls of corrupted angels. And they don’t spawn—they’re summoned, remember?”