“Something’s wrong,” I said. Story of my life.
Warrick used the sleeve of his brown leather jacket to rub away the dust from the warehouse window. “You’re right. It shouldn’t be taking him this long.” He looked over at me, bright green eyes illuminated from the moonlight shining outside.
“Do you think something happened to him?” he asked.
I stared through the murky glass and put my hands on my hips. My thumb ran up and down the hilt of the hatchet attached to my waist.
“Maybe,” I answered truthfully. “Seph knows the risks better than us. He also knows we can’t find him if he’s in trouble.”
Warrick hesitated, then said, “Dro could.”
I shot him a dark glance. Yes, my adopted sister could find our resident Seraphim warrior by using supernatural skills that continued to confuse, amaze, and terrify me. But I wasn’t going to ask her to do that. Not even for Sephiel. It was too dangerous, especially now.
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