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“Myla? Are you there?” Cissy’s voice quickly accelerates from downright scared to super hysterical.
At this point, Lincoln leans his head closer to mine so we can both hear the conversation. Some of the tension loosens from my shoulders. I won’t lie; it helps to have Lincoln’s strength and warmth a little closer. I’m on a freaked-out phone call … in a foggy Goth sort-of graveyard ... after seeing a reenactment of an entire army of angels getting transformed into stone (among other scary things). If I still had a binky and a blanket, I’d want those close too.
A few yards away, Obsidian and Happy wait semi-patiently. The two of them make quite a pair. There’s the towering seraphim in his dark metal armor. Triple wings arch slightly behind his back. Beside Obsidian, there stands a twelv
