Wings of Redemption by Sarah Gilman

I want it for me.” She ran her fingers over some white roses—wet from a recent shower—lining the path. “The first picture I ever took was in elementary school, with a pink camera Mom had gotten me for my birthday. A friend was moving away, so I took her picture. I hate the passage of time. Hate how flowers like these will drop their petals before long. I take photos to hold on to things I can’t actually hold on to. Like you.”
    “Saffron.”
    “I’m just saying it like it is. I’ve never met a man whose company I’ve enjoyed like this.”
    “Our time together has meant that much to you?”
    She swallowed. “Yes. Four days is not enough. This, meaning you and me, could have been…”
    He stared straight ahead and his throat worked. “Yes, it could have been something incredible. If things were very, very different.”
    “Why can’t—”
    “Saffron. Don’t.”
    She pressed her lips together and held her chin high.
    A shadow broke free of the others and careened around them in a circle. Saffron gasped and froze.
    “It’s all right,” Kes said, his tone strange—thick, chilly, monotone. “A friend of mine wants to meet you.”
    An archangel with wings as dark as the midnight sky swooped over the path and landed. Black hair matched his feathers, giving him an imposing vibe that made Saffron tense. However, he smiled and the warmth in the expression reached his eyes. “Hello, Saffron Morin.”
    “Saffron, this is Rave.”
    “Hello.” She held out her hand.
    The archangel’s fingers closed over hers and a similar pressure wrapped around her skull. What the hell?
    “Excuse me a moment,” she said. “I don’t feel well.”
    You’re fine, Saffron. This will only take a moment if you don’t fight me.
    Her jaw dropped. The archangel’s voice rang in her mind without the slightest movement from his lips. A mind reader! The idea made her nauseous. What an invasion of privacy.
    “Uh, that’s impressive, but please stay out of my head.”
    You may recall Virgil asking you some questions about your family and their property? You weren’t willing to be forthright with answers, so here I am.
    Her heart shot into her throat. Damn it, a mind reader could pull information out of her head that would put her parents in danger, especially in Virgil’s hands. “Get away from me. Kes, let’s go.”
    Kestrel gripped her arms from behind, holding her in place.
    “Kes?”
    He said nothing and kept his gaze on Rave.
    She struggled, but his grip only tightened. “ Kes. ”
    Kestrel shut his eyes. “Don’t.”
    Rave stood directly in front of her. His voice filled her head. Let’s talk about the mansion’s security.
    The prompt automatically turned her thoughts in that direction, unveiling crucial information in seconds. Rave smiled.
    She glared over her shoulder at Kestrel. “You son of a bitch. Crisse de tabarnak de calisse! ”
    He met her gaze, his mouth set in a thin, unapologetic line.
    Focus, Saffron. How do your parents spend their evenings?
    She tried to think of other things, but her thoughts jerked around in her head as if Rave were physically riffling through them. He must have been doing just that, considering the look of concentration on his face, and that she thought of details she’d never normally notice, such as squeaky floorboards. Everything important rose to the surface, including the fact that her mother was home recovering from pneumonia and her father had canceled his weekend plans to be home for her.
    The blind spots in the security camera coverage.
    The security codes.
    She stomped on Kestrel’s foot, squirmed, elbowed his ribs, twisted, but he didn’t budge. He tightened his grip.
    “Hey,” Rave said. “Your parents deserve to die.”
    She spat in his face.
    Rave gripped her jaw with one hand and stared into her eyes. The pressure in her head increased and images appeared. Vivid, gory images. Two lifeless, face-down bodies on a river bank. Two mutilated backs where wings