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“Yeah, well,” Cade replied, rolling his shoulders in a deliberately casual shrug. “Join the club.”

Cassiel didn't look away from Cade, his gaze fixed and unwavering. “You walk with something unnatural inside you. I can feel it.”

“And what, you think you get to decide what's natural?” Cade shot back, his voice tight with barely contained anger. The markon his chest pulsed visibly through his shirt now, a dull red glow that matched the rising tension in the room.

Cassiel took a step forward, and I could feel the air pressure change, the temperature dropping several degrees in seconds. But I held my ground, moving more firmly between them, hand raised.

“Enough,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “I don't care what you are. I don't care why you're here. But you're gonna start giving me real answers, or we're done.”

Cassiel stopped, regarding me with those ancient eyes. For a moment, I thought he might simply push past me, or worse. But then something shifted in his expression—not softening exactly, but recalibrating.

“Very well,” he said finally. “What do you wish to know?”

“Everything,” I replied. “Starting with why you're really here.”

Cassiel's gaze moved between us, assessing. “I told you. I am here because of you, Sean. But also because of what is coming.”

“What, the apocalypse?” Cade asked, the sarcasm not quite masking his concern.

“Yes,” Cassiel replied simply.

The single word dropped like a stone into still water, sending ripples of disbelief and dread through me. “You've got to be kidding.”

“I do not 'kid,'” Cassiel said, the colloquialism sounding strange in his formal speech.

“Okay, so the world's ending. Again.” I ran a hand through my hair, trying to process. “What does that have to do with me being... whatever you claim I am?”

“Nephilim,” Cassiel supplied. “And everything. You are a bridge between worlds, Sean. Neither fully human nor fully angel. In the coming war, such beings will be... valuable.”

“Valuable how?” Cade asked, eyes narrowing.

“As vessels. As weapons. As keys to doors that should remain closed.” Cassiel's gaze fixed on me again. “Or as tools to ensure those doors stay shut.”

“Let them come,” I replied, though the bravado felt hollow. “We've dealt with worse.”

“Have you?” Cassiel asked, the question hanging in the air between us.

Before I could answer, the sound of approaching sirens cut through the tense silence. Someone must have heard the gunshot and called the cops.

“We need to go,” Cade said urgently, already moving toward the door.

I backed away from Cassiel, keeping my eyes on him as I retreated. “This conversation isn't over.”

“No,” Cassiel agreed. “It has barely begun.”

11

THREADS UNRAVELING

SEAN

Iwatched as Cade's fingers flew over the keyboard of his phone, typing up the last details of our encounter with whatever-the-hell Edward Hayes had become. His face was drawn with concentration, the blue light of the screen highlighting the dark circles under his eyes. Sterling would want everything: locations, times, descriptions, how the guy's eyes had burned from the inside out. The whole bloody mess.

“You still sending reports to Sterling?” I asked, leaning against the Impala's hood. “Thought you left the CITD life behind.”

Cade didn't look up from his phone. “Force of habit,” he replied with a shrug. “Sterling was a stickler for immediate reports. 'Details fade with time,'” he mimicked the older hunter's gruff tone perfectly.

“Yeah, but you're not his employee anymore,” I pointed out. “You're not anybody's employee. We're free agents now, remember?”