And the parodical Angel returns. With less than satisfactory answers.

Grace tossed the book over the arm of the couch and groaned. She needed action, a mission, a purpose. As much as she loved reading and watching movies, the guilt over what had happened with Blackwing and the fear it sank into her bones wouldn't let her find any peace. She needed Nate. Why wasn't he there?

Selfish! She scratched the back of her hand as she flopped down on the pillows, trying to concentrate on the movie. Nope, her attention span had reached zero. She considered throwing something at the wall just to blow off some steam.

The ticking of the clock drilled into her head. The sound mixed with the lines of the movie as her vision blurred. A shadow hovered over her - it spoke, but she couldn't understand a word. She moved closer. The shadow only stepped back, dancing out of her reach. A loud knock snapped her back to consciousness.

Grace blinked. The sun had gone down, coating the room in semi-darkness. The TV still flickered, though another movie had started. Wow, she'd actually fallen asleep. Had she imagined the knock? Another pound answered her question. She rolled off the couch and dragged her feet to the door. For a second she hesitated, wondering who it could be, but shook the thought away. The Garden was safe.

Once she opened the door, the breath hitched in her throat. A mass of red roses with legs awaited on the other side. She stepped back and let Nate enter.

"Hi, honey. What were you doing?" He placed the huge bouquet on the kitchen counter.

Grace blinked, trying to drive the sleep out of her head. "When did you get back? And what's with the...?" She waved her hand in the direction of the flowers.

"A little apology for leaving you alone for so long." He rummaged through the cupboards in the small kitchen looking for a vase. "I hear you didn't take my absence too well."

She closed the door to the room and walked to the back of the couch. Why did Nate act like he owned the place, as if this was his house? And that comment stung a little. She'd missed him, but it wasn't like she couldn't live without him.

"I was mostly bored." She rounded the couch and sat, watching him fuss with the roses. "The flowers are really pretty."

"Pretty flowers for a pretty Angel." He smiled as he walked to her and sat on the coffee table, blocking her view of the TV. "How are you feeling? You seem a little off."

"I'm groggy, I just got up." Which was why she was acting like a socially challenged moron. She should've jumped in his arms when he'd appeared at her door with flowers. Of course, that would've meant squishing the flowers. He'd just called her pretty. It was the first compliment he'd ever paid her and all she could think about was Blackwing calling her beautiful. Ugh, get out of my head!

"I've missed you." Nate took her hand and brushed her knuckles with his lips.

She shivered. "I've missed you, too."

"I hope I won't have to leave without you again."

"How did the investigation go?" She hoped that his absence had at least been worth it.

He sighed and sat next to her on the couch. "Unfortunately, not as well as I would have liked. I've looked into what you told me. Checked to see if someone's after you."

Grace tightened her fingers around the corner of the couch cushion. "And?"

"You have no reason to worry. There's the big force of Demons after us all, but no one after you specifically."

"Really? What about Blackwing setting traps for me, or that Nexum trying to take me away?" She frowned, trying to fight the annoyance taking hold of her. It wasn't just her imagination.

"I don't know what got into those crazy Demons. If someone is trying to get to you, the order didn't come from a high place." Nate rubbed his forehead. "I'm very confused right now. I've pulled a lot of strings for this information, and it's not conclusive."

Not conclusive? So was someone after her or not? Or was it someone too unimportant to matter? She decided to bin the question and maybe bring it out later. "How about the Demon activity?" She hugged her knees.

"There's no increased Demon activity worldwide. Just in New York City. And it's apparently Blackwing's doing." Nate uttered the name as though it was a disgusting swearword.

Grace's jaw dropped. "Blackwing's doing? How much power does that guy hold over other Demons?"

Nate narrowed his eyes. "Blackwing's not a guy, Grace. He's a Demon. There's something I want you to remember." He hesitated for a moment and Grace wondered if he'd finally tell her about Blackwing being an Angel Slayer - better late than never. "Blackwing is not the most powerful Demon out there. But he is the most dangerous."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Demons have rules, just like Angels. Blackwing can be defeated in battle, but it's very difficult seeing as he is one of the few Demons who breaks their rules. He runs, doesn't always aim to kill, doesn't care if he wastes Negri, Nexi or any other devilish resource... And he messes with our minds. He lies with a smile on his face, taunts and scars beyond the surface." Nate ran his hand through his hair. Grace noticed he did it a lot when he was nervous. "I came close to killing him many times, but he somehow always managed to get to me, faze me and get away. If I had a choice, I'd rather not face him. Until a couple of weeks ago, it had been centuries since I'd last run into him on the job."

"Why hasn't anyone killed him?"

He shrugged. "Apparently, no one's been able to get the upper hand on him."

Grace waited, but he didn't elaborate. He stared into space, as though a distant memory played before his eyes. She had no idea what the purpose of Nate's story had been, but all he'd managed to do was give Blackwing a mystic air. She didn't want that, she wanted his image crushed, so the stupid fear would leave her. There was one thing he could say to make it better. She swallowed the bucket of sand that seemed stuck in her throat.

"These mind games of his... What exactly does he do?"

Nate turned to her, his eyes glazed over as though half of him lingered in the past. "He makes you believe whatever he wants. I won't lie to you, he is intelligent. More intelligent than anyone gives him credit for. He knows exactly what to say and when to say it to ensnare people. You saw him that night at Purgatory with those human girls. He doesn't need mind-control when he has a silk tongue."

She knew what he meant, but the simple thought of Blackwing's tongue made Grace shiver. She needed an assurance, not more doubt. "Can Demons mind-control Angels?"

Nate stared at her as though she'd just asked if he wanted a healthy serving of rat poison. "Grace, you already know this."

"I want to hear you say it." She tightened her hold on her knees.

He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "No, they can't. Only humans. Just like we can't scout them."

"We can. We just get in trouble when they catch us."

He looked at her for a while, and Grace pulled away, certain that a lecture on Angel-Demon ethics would follow. Instead, Nate relaxed against the couch and groaned. "It's been so long since I had someone to confide in, it's hard for me to do it. But now that I have you, I can finally be honest."

Be honest? Alarm bells rang like crazy inside her head. Blackwing's voice echoed around her. Angels can lie as long as they believe it's for the greater good. She waved her hand, trying to shoo the words away. "Of course you can."

"I'm worried. I'm really, really, really worried." He leaned forward, his face in his hands. "I've been out there for thousands of years, battling Demons, trying to make the world a better place. I've seen humans slaughter each other war after war. But all through this, I knew what was going on. I knew that everything happened for a reason and that everything led here. But now..."

Grace slid closer and placed her hand on his shoulder. The warmth radiating from his skin felt comforting. "Go ahead."

He took her hand and placed it on his cheek. "Now it's like the road is blocked and I don't understand a damn thing." He looked straight into her eyes. "I'm not in control anymore. And maybe, just maybe, I've got this all wrong and someone is after you. I couldn't bear it if I lost you. It's taken me a thousand years to fall in love. I can't lose the one thing that makes sense in my existence."

Grace wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. She couldn't believe this. Almighty Nate did have weaknesses. And it made her love him even more. He wasn't a stone block, even if he liked to act like it. She kept replaying his words inside her head while he held her, his hands in her waist-long hair.

"I met Luce at the Gate," Nate muttered. "She said she asked you to go out with her and Felicity, but you refused." He detached from her and held her at arm's length. "You usually love to go out. What's going on?"

Grace bit her lip. She was ashamed of her weakness, but he had opened up to her. She could trust him. "I did want to go out, but they had some work to do and wanted me to meet them there later."

"And? That sounds like a reasonable idea."

Ack! How was she going to explain this? The reluctance, fear, fascination... the last thing Nate needed to hear was that she'd become obsessed with Blackwing. She still wasn't sure if she was afraid of him or curious or wanted to kill him.

"I'm afraid to go out alone," she finally whispered, deciding to go with the feeling easiest to identify.

Nate leaned in closer. "What?"

"I'm afraid to go out alone." She cleared her throat. "I'm afraid I'll run into Blackwing again and he'll... hurt me." She'd wanted to say 'make me want him,' but she couldn't explain that to Nate. Maybe he wouldn't believe her. "Luce told me about the Angel Slayer thing."

"Oh, honey." He took her in his arms again and held her tight. "I know he's intimidating, and what I've just told you means you should be even warier of him, but don't be afraid. The whole Angels Slayer thing is just a silly myth. Blackwing doesn't hunt us down. He just tries to kill us like every other Demon out there."

"Well, I'm still scared." Not really, but the whole Angel Slayer thing had just become a lot more confusing. Blackwing seemed to be hunting her down. She cuddled up next to Nate.

"You shouldn't be. And you know why?" He smiled down at her. "Because you can kick his ass all over the place."

Grace giggled. "You cursed. Twice."

"What can I say?" He sighed over-dramatically. "You rub off on me."

Grace smiled to herself and lay over on his lap. It was great to finally see Nate more relaxed. He grabbed a pillow and put it under her head. It was very comfortable and she had a perfect view of the TV. The Fellowship of the Ring trekked on wild terrain toward Mordor. She loved this movie.

"What are you watching? Why are those people so short?" Nate asked, his tone full of disbelief.

Grace laughed. "It's a fantasy movie. The short people are called Hobbits."

"Fantasy?" He shook his head, though he looked amused. "Humans don't even know half of their own world, and they feel the need to invent others. So...um, what's going on here?"

Thrilled that Nate wasn't leaving or asking her to quit watching silly movies, Grace began to explain the plot of the story. He caught on fairly quickly and settled in to watch, stroking her temples. The touch was soothing, and her lids felt heavier by the second. The green hills and forests disappeared inside a black void.

When she tried to move, water appeared under her feet and she seemed to be floating on it. Giggling at the thought, she skipped forward, each touch of her toes leaving behind a water ring. In the distance, Nate smiled at her, his wings out, glowing bluish in the darkness.

Anticipation and happiness filled her to the brim and she quickened her pace. The faster she tried to go, the slower she seemed to move. Nate had his sword out. Black blood kept dripping from the hilt to the tip. She hurried, no longer skipping, but running. Her feet slipped. She looked down. A scream died in her throat.

The water had disappeared, leaving a mountain of heads under her feet, all still bleeding, empty dead eyes wide open. A shriek escaped. Arms flailing wildly, she charged up the skull hill, toward Nate. He laughed. Beckoned her to come, but floated back, further and further.

The mass of pale, rubbery heads beneath her tumbled into an avalanche and buried her. She tried to scream again. Thick, sticky blood blocked her airways and she couldn't even tell if it dripped from the dead or was her own. Her heart beat so fast, it seemed about to explode. She reached out her hands, but her fingers found only empty air. Sobs escaped her chest. Where was Nate?

Dead flesh covered her head, suffocating her. Someone grabbed her hand and pulled her through the bloated heads. Fresh air hit her face and she could breathe again. She looked up.

Blackwing stared at her, his grip tight. Flames burned in his chocolate-brown eyes.

She woke with a scream. Someone held her shoulders, immobilizing her thrashing body.

"Relax, honey," Nate whispered in her ear. "You just had a nightmare."

"There was so much blood," she whimpered, hugging his forearm. "And you wouldn't come."

Nate tightened his hold on her. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. No one is going to hurt you."

She took in big breaths while he rocked her in his arms. Her pulse slowed, but she still couldn't get the images out of her head. Nate rubbed her arms, whispering calming words.

"I just wanted to get to you," she whispered. Why did Blackwing have to appear? "But there were so many bodies, I couldn't get past them."

"We've had so much activity lately and it all involved killing. It's understandable that you would dream something like that." He pulled her to his chest and rested his chin on top of her head. "Maybe you need a change in scenery. Killing Demons is not all Angels can do to prevent them from spreading their plague. We should do something else." He kissed her on the forehead.

"Something else? Like what?" She looked at him curiously.

"It's a surprise. I think you'll like it." He winked and stood, still holding her in his arms. "About the me-drifting-out-of-your-reach thing... I promise I won't leave you alone this long again. Poor baby, you look so tired. Try to get some sleep."

She tried to smile, but couldn't. The dream still lingered on the outskirts of her mind, and she didn't want to risk returning to that scary place.

Nate laid her on the couch, kissed her on the forehead and headed for the door. Grace watched him and, with every step he took, fear grabbed hold of her. She let out an involuntary sob when his hand touched the door handle.

He turned to her at once. "What's wrong?"

"Stay with me." The words were out before she could stop them. She wanted him to stay, but shouldn't have asked. Angels never did anything like that unless they were married.

He sighed. "Grace, you know-"

"Please. I'm afraid I'll have a nightmare again."

Nate let go of the handle and walked back to the couch. He picked her up and took her to the bedroom. "I can't leave you like this." He shook his head, though he was smiling. "The things I do for you."