Finale

He’s on his way over any minute now.”
    When I spoke, my voice sounded hoarse and shaky. “We need to talk.”
    Vee didn’t miss a beat. “I’ll call Scott and cancel.” She slid the window all the way open to invite me in. “Tell me what’s on your mind, babe.”
    To her credit, Vee didn’t scream, sob hysterically, or flee from the room the moment I finished telling her the fantastical secrets I’d kept to myself the past six
months. She’d flinched once when I’d explained that Nephilim were the progeny of humans and fallen angels, but other than that, her expression had remained free of horror and disbelief.
She listened attentively as I described two warring races of immortals, Hank Millar’s role in everything, and how he’d dumped his baggage in my lap. She even managed to smile slightly
as I lifted the cloak on Patch and Scott’s true identities.
    When I finished, she merely cocked her head, scrutinizing me. After a moment, she said, “Well, that explains
a lot
.”
    It was my turn to blink. “Seriously? That’s all you have to say? You aren’t, I don’t know . . . stunned? Confused? Bewildered?
Hys
terical?
”
    Vee tapped her chin contemplatively. “I knew Patch was way too hard-core to be human.”
    I was starting to wonder if she’d even heard me say that
I
wasn’t human. “What about me? You’re completely cool with the idea that not only am I Nephilim, but
I’m supposed to be leading all the other Nephilim out there”—I thrust my finger at the window—“into war against fallen angels?
Fallen angels
, Vee. Like in the
Bible. Heaven’s banished evildoers.”
    “Actually, I think it’s pretty incredible.”
    I scratched my eyebrow. “I can’t believe you’re being so calm about this. I expected some kind of reaction. I expected an outburst. Based on past experience, I anticipated
flailing arms and a healthy dose of swearing, at the very least. I might as well be divulging this to a brick wall.”
    “Babe, you’re making me sound like a diva.”
    That brought a quirk to my lips. “You said it, not me.”
    “I just think it’s really weird that you said the easiest way to spot Nephilim is by their height, and you, my friend, aren’t extraordinarily tall,” said Vee. “Now
take me, for instance.
I’m
tall.”
    “I’m average height because Hank—”
    “Got it. You already explained that part about swearing an oath to become Nephilim while you were human, hence the average physique, but it still kind of sucks, right? I mean, what if the
Changeover Vow had made you tall? What if it had made you as tall as
me
?”
    I didn’t know where Vee was going with this, but I felt like she was missing the point. This wasn’t about how tall I was. This was about opening her mind to an immortal world that
wasn’t supposed to exist—and I’d just burst the secure little bubble she’d been living in.
    “Does your body heal rapidly now that you’re Nephilim?” Vee continued. “Because if you didn’t get that perk, you really got shortchanged.”
    I stiffened. “Vee, I didn’t tell you about our accelerated healing capabilities.”
    “Huh. I guess you didn’t.”
    “How could you possibly know, then?” I stared at Vee, revisiting every word of our conversation. I had definitely not told her. My brain seemed to struggle forward in slow motion.
And then, just like that, understanding came rushing at me much too fast to digest. I covered my mouth with my hand. “You . . . ?”
    Vee smirked. “I told you I was keeping secrets from you.”
    “But— It can’t be— It’s not—”
    “Possible? Yeah, that’s what I thought at first too. I thought I was going through some kind of whacked-up second menstruation thing. These past couple weeks I’ve been tired
and crampy and totally pissed off at the world. Then, a week ago, I cut my finger while slicing an apple. It healed so fast I almost thought I’d imagined seeing blood. More weird stuff
happened after that. In PE, I served the volleyball so hard it hit the back wall on the opposite side of the court. During weights, I had no problem lifting what the bulkiest guys in the class were
lifting. I hid it, of course, because I didn’t want to draw attention to myself until I figured out what was happening to my body. Trust me, Nora. I am one hundred percent Nephilim. Scott
caught on to it right away. He’s been teaching me the ropes and helping me cope with the idea that seventeen years ago, my