Naomi spent the trip buzzing with excitement. Miriam had the book—would she try to use it as soon as she was home? Would she be able to puzzle together the notes and translations—would she be as excited to finally meet an angel as Naomi was to reveal herself? It was all she could do to keep from squealing from delight. It felt like it had been ages since she was able to really stretch her wings, and her shoulders itched with anticipation. Despite the rather rocky start, her plan was back on track and soon to be fulfilled.

Oh, she’s going to have so many questions, Naomi thought. It can’t hurt to tell her...almost everything, right? She glanced to Elijah in the front seat, but of course he was impossible to read. It’s not as if he’s ever been shy about revealing himself, even to humans. If Miriam asks, I won’t lie to her. She nodded to herself with conviction, only to come across a new worry. Oh no, but what if she asks about Gremory? Her seal was on the entrance to that club, and—

Miriam cleared her throat. “So, if you don’t mind me asking,” she said, and Naomi held her breath, “what is it you two do? Naomi, you said he’s your boss, but I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned your work.”

“Oh, no, I guess I didn’t.” Naomi looked to Elijah again; she hadn’t even begun to think of a passable backstory for her current self.

“I’m an anthropologist,” said Elijah without missing a beat. “I study people. Miss Yosef is my assistant.”

Miriam gave a quiet snort and then cleared her throat again as if to cover it up. “Oh, is that so? Any particular area of history?”

“No, not particularly.”

“Oh.” Miriam shrugged. “All right then.”

Naomi worried her fingers in her lap. “But you can see why it caught my attention then, right?” she said, trying to smooth over the awkwardness. “The book?”

“Yes, certainly,” said Miriam, though she continued to watch Elijah with what Naomi considered to be a very unwarranted level of distrust. “It’s a shame we weren’t able to get our hands on it. I sure hope Mr. Tripepi makes the most of it.”

“Oh...yes. Rather, we should hope he doesn’t.” It’s her prize, after all—I guess it makes sense that she wouldn’t want anyone to know she has it. She straightened up and brightened her tone. “But either way we really appreciate your help, Elijah. Lucky that you happened to be nearby. I’ll make it up to you.”

“That isn’t necessary,” he replied. “You’ve done plenty of fine work for me already.”

Miriam pulled a face but didn’t comment, and the conversation soon died out. Which was probably for the best.

As promised, Elijah dropped them off at the Public Garden. Miriam thanked him for the ride but her eagerness to be away from him was palpable, and Naomi leaned into the driver’s side window to try to smooth things over. “She’s really wonderful,” she whispered. “Perfect, even—you’ll see.”

“I’m sure she is,” he replied, though his thin smile failed to reassure. “Bring her to me when she’s ready.”

“O...Okay.” Though Naomi was well used to his peculiar manners, for the first time his pale eyes gave her a chill, and she backed away from the car. “See you later!”

Elijah drove away. He was barely out of sight before Miriam gave a great shudder. “Ugh! No offense, Naomi, but your boss gives me the willies.” She pulled the book out of the back of her pants and instead tucked it into the front of her jacket. “Walked all over my grave with those long legs of his.”

“He’s a great man,” Naomi said automatically. “I think you’d like him, if you...got to know him better. He knows so much.”

“If you say so.” Miriam gave herself one more shake and then started marching down the sidewalk. “In any case! Let’s get this back to the apartment before anything else goes wrong.” Her eyes gleamed. “Let’s see if we can’t summon an angel.”

“Y-Yes!” Naomi hurried into step alongside her. “I can’t wait.”

Miriam led them into her apartment, and though Naomi hadn’t thought to ask ahead, she was relieved to see that Odelia, the roommate, was not at home. They headed straight into Miriam’s bedroom, where Miriam immediately shed her jacket and cap; her brown curls almost seemed to stretch as they unfurled, as if grateful to be free. She hopped onto the bed, and Naomi joined her, her heart pounding.

Don’t get ahead of her, Naomi told herself, blushing a little as Miriam ran her fingers over the book’s cover reverently. Let her find it on her own. She ducked her head, smiling to herself. She’s going to be so surprised!

Miriam flipped through the pages, her eyes alight with fascination. Her fingertips danced over the different passages, and Naomi could see her lips even forming a few words now and again, among the Hebrew and Latin inscriptions. Much of the text she had included only to make the book longer, with long lists of mundane heavenly details and passages borrowed from other tomes. But as Miriam flipped to a particular page, her heart skipped. Gremory’s sigil glared up at her in slashes of dark ink.

“Gremory,” Miriam whispered, pointing to it, and Naomi’s mind went blank with panic. She lifted her head. “Do you know anything about this demon?”

“N-No!” Naomi squawked. Miriam’s eyebrows lifting made her sweat, and she fought to sound less suspicious. “Sorry, no. I don’t know anything about demons...other than they’re not to be trifled with.”

 Miriam frowned thoughtfully as she swirled her thumb around the curves in the sigil. “How strange, to have a whole page devoted to this one demon.” She flipped quickly back and forth through the pages. “Seems like the only demon mentioned at all. Why would that be?”

“I, um. I have no idea.” Naomi drew her thumbnail to her teeth only to realize that might look even more suspicious, and she forced her hand back down. Why did I ever include this? What was I thinking?  She swallowed and looked away. “What about the summoning?”

“Mm! Right.” Miriam shook her head and continued her hunt through the book. “It’s not very long, is it? Probably for the best since it’s going to take a long time to translate—there are glyphs in here I don’t recognize at all let alone can read!” A smirk tugged her lips. “Too bad there isn’t a real Jordan Price I can ask. Now what happened to that...aha!”

Miriam opened to the book’s final section: the invocation rites. Naomi cast all other worries out of her head and sat up straighter, watching Miriam’s every move. Will she want to try it now? she wondered as Miriam traced her path through the text with her fingertips. I hope she’ll at least follow all the instructions—she has the candles, I’m sure she has chalk and—

“Blast!” Miriam scowled and shoved the book away from her. “It’s a damn fake.”

“Wh…” Naomi blinked, caught entirely off guard. “What?”

“It’s a fake!” Miriam exclaimed, throwing her arms up. “Or an amateur, or some half-baked English hobbyist! Look.” She drew the book back to her, pointing out the seal of summoning that Naomi had painstakingly inked. “You draw the circle to protect yourself during the invocation, and another circle around that, and in between you write out the angel’s corresponding Psalm. But this isn’t even the right verse!” She scowled again bitterly and began pointing out other labels and sigils. “And it has these seals that correspond to the Principalities that Poiel belongs to, and the zodiac and planet she rules under and all that, and those are right, so how could they miss something so obvious? And why is the pentagram inside the seal? That defeats the point of having the seal in the first place!”

She pushed the book away again, all but shaking with frustration. Naomi gaped and stuttered, her heart in her throat. “Well, of course—” She stopped, chewing her nails. Of course I didn’t put in the right verse! That would be so dangerous if this got into the wrong hands! “Well, you know the right verse, don’t you? Can’t you just...try it with that?”

“I have tried it,” Miriam said, though her anger was starting to give way to a more precarious emotion. “Not with Poiel, but other angels, before now. God damn it….”

Miriam flopped onto her back, her breath leaving her in a heavy sigh. “I should have known. It’s just another of Mr. Fairchild’s tricks after all.”

“But...no! It’s not, though.” Naomi drew the book closer to her; her hands were shook with the memories of so much time and care put into its construction. “I’m sure it’s...it’s close at least. Please don’t give up, Miriam.”

“Oh Naomi, I’m sorry.” Miriam pushed her glasses up so she could rub her eyes. “God, I’m so gullible. And we could have been in real trouble today, all for this...this forgery.” She let her hands fall to her stomach. “I shouldn’t have dragged you along like that.”

“But no, I…” Naomi scrambled after some explanation. She flipped through the pages, struggling to remember if she had included any buried hints that would at least encourage Miriam to make the attempt. At least if she believed she was doing the right ritual to summon an angel, that would be excuse enough for Naomi to make her entrance…

“Can you believe Joey Tripepi himself thought it was real, too?” Miriam continued, and she gave a short bark of laughter, even though her voice was already growing rough. “Maybe I’ll just mail it back to him. He can waste his time with it, then.”

Naomi cringed, but it already felt too late. She couldn’t think of what to say—she couldn’t find anything she’d already written that would help. The perfect, choreographed introduction her book was supposed to represent had already crashed into rubble. She looked back to Miriam lying on the bed, who suddenly appeared so devastated, so despondent, that it broke her heart twice over.

You could just tell her, Darby had suggested, but Naomi felt as if the entire world had shifted beneath her feet. She hadn’t prepared for this, and the unexpectedly fierce guilt she felt for having disappointed someone so much, and the panic of having to reveal herself unrehearsed. That had never worked in her favor before.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” Naomi stuttered out, and unable to do anything but follow blind instinct, she climbed off the bed. “I should go.”

“What?” Miriam fumbled her glasses back into place as she sat up. “You’re leaving?”

“Yes, I—I’m sorry. I don’t want to bother you.” With no clear idea of what she was talking about, she headed for the door. “I’ll come back another time, okay?”

“But…” Miriam crawled down the bed toward her. “You don’t have to—”

But Naomi couldn’t wait. It was challenge enough to breathe all of a sudden, and she fled from the apartment, passing a confused Odelia on the stairs on her way down. She burst out onto the sidewalk gasping and then kept going, suddenly nervous that Miriam with all her determination and grit might have followed her out.

Coward! she scolded herself as she rushed away from the building. Why couldn’t you have just told her? What will she think now? She chewed anxiously on her fingernails as Boston’s post-Church traffic rumbled on alongside. Oh, but she looked so upset! What if saying too much made it worse? What if she’d be mad I hid it from her. This was such a stupid idea to begin with!

Naomi glanced behind her, but seeing that Miriam wasn’t actually following her, she slowed to a halt. She even stayed there for a while, watching the building’s entrance to see if Miriam might barrel out of it. As the seconds ticked by and that become less and less likely, Naomi’s heart sank, and she scolded herself all over again for being disappointed when she was the one who had run away.