Spinning around, I pushed—pushed hard with my legs as the circle completed. The light pulsed, streaming upward as I jumped through it, hitting the ground on my hands and knees just outside the circle as the light collapsed.

“God,” I whispered, pushing my braid back over my shoulder. That was...that was too close of a call.

I stood, turning back. I couldn’t see any signs of the light. I could barely make out the lump of his shirt in the encroaching shadows, but it was done.

The park lights flicked on as I stood there, chest rising and falling rapidly. My grace hummed in me, ramped up by my anxiety.

Please.

Please.

Please.

Lifting my gaze to the now dark sky, I strained to see anything. There was nothing. Not even a hint of a star. What if this didn’t work? What if I did something wrong? Was I supposed to dump the contents out first and then cut myself? I should’ve written the instructions down, because my memory—

I saw him only for a second before he dropped out of the sky, landing in a crouch mere feet from where I thought the circle started.

My heart stammered as he rose, his wings emanating a soft white glow as he spread them wide. Show-off. He’d changed into a faded pair of jeans. Where he got them, or better yet, who he borrowed them from, I decided I didn’t want to know.

At least right now.

From opposite sides of what I hoped was a functional trap, we stared at one another. Too many seconds ticked by unused. I needed to get him in the trap.

I stepped forward, only about a foot. “Miss me?”

His head tilted. “You did something. I know you did. I felt this uncontrollable urge to come here.”

“You weren’t watching me?”

He shook his head. “I can no longer watch you.”

Because he could no longer trust himself? There wasn’t time to figure that out. “Well, I didn’t want to walk the streets looking for you.”

“I told you to stay away from me. That I would hurt you,” he said, voice a low rumble. “And yet, you did something to bring me to you. I’m beginning to believe you have a death wish.”

“You think you can kill me?” I summoned my grace, and it responded in a rush. The corners of my eyes turned white as whitish-gold light spilled out from my shoulder, swirling down my arm. The hilt of the Sword of Michael formed against my palm, warm and welcomed. The flaming blade erupted, crackling and hissing. “Then come and get me, Fallen.”

For a heart-stopping moment, I didn’t think he would rise to the challenge. That he’d refuse, and while that could be further proof that he was still in there, I didn’t need Zayne rearing his head right now. I needed the Fallen.