Every revelation in this chapter weaves light and shadow.  Both within the world and within those who carry Heaven's mark. What happens here isn't just about power; it's about purpose, about the unseen thread that ties the chosen together long before they meet.

Take a breath. The storm has quieted for now, but not all silence is peace.

Seth's head turned sharply toward the street. "We need to leave."

I followed his gaze. Across the road, lights flickered in the neighbor's windows. A shadow of someone pointing. Then, the rising wail of sirens.

"Wonderful," I muttered. "Because what we really needed after exorcising half of hell was a police report."

Father Martin moved fast for a man in his sixties. "My helpers are on their way. They will escort the family before the authorities arrive."

True to his word, two parish volunteers in brown coats hurried up the path, ushering the dazed parents and their children toward an old church van. The priest gave one last blessing to the cracked doorway and turned to us. "You must go before the firefighters arrive. They will not understand what they see here."

"Understatement of the century," Alec said, swatting at the faint crackles still dancing across his arm. His hair sparked blue, like a faulty neon sign refusing to die.

As we reached the cars, my stomach let out a growl so loud even the shadows turned to listen.
Jamey grinned. "Behold the mighty Max... slayer of demons, devourer of sandwiches, destroyer of peace and quiet."

I swatted at him, half-smiling. "Keep talking and I'll make you the main course." Lady Elsa chuckled softly. "We all need to recover, child. Power burns through the body quickly."

Jamey spread his hands. "Then allow me to fix that."

A faint shimmer of light rippled outward from him, subtle but warm. The exhaustion in my muscles eased. The dull ache in my temples cleared. Even Seth's posture loosened slightly, his shoulders uncoiling. But none of that fixed the real problem... hunger.

Adrian noticed. His gaze sharpened with curiosity. "So... you're not just the village clown. You're a conduit. Nice." He gave Jamey an approving thumbs-up.

Jamey puffed his chest out, feigning pride. "I'm multitalented. I heal, I hype, and occasionally I drive the getaway car."

Alec rolled his eyes. "Mostly he annoys everyone within a ten-mile radius."

"Teamwork," Jamey said, grinning. "Someone's got to keep the group from losing their minds."

Father Martin returned, dusting his hands. "It is done. The family is safe. But you cannot linger here. Take the side road toward St. Augustus's hostel. You may rest there for the night. There is also a small restaurant across the square. Tell them Father Martin sent you."

"That might be the holiest sentence I've ever heard," I said. "Come on. Before my stomach starts quoting Scripture."

Seth smirked as he opened the passenger door. "I'll drive, but I should probably call my accountant before you see a menu. Feeding you might bankrupt me."

As we pulled away, the fire trucks swept past in the opposite lane, red lights washing over our windshields like judgment and mercy all at once. The house behind us was already dark again, as though nothing had ever happened.

For a moment, none of us spoke. The adrenaline faded, leaving only hunger, fatigue, and a strange, shared quiet.

Jamey broke it first. "So, dinner before divine destiny?"

I leaned my head back against the seat. "Dinner first. Destiny can wait until after dessert."

The restaurant's warm lights spilled across our faces like borrowed peace. After a night of fire, demons, and collapsing walls, even the smell of grilled meat felt like grace.

As we parked, Gabriel gave a short goodbye from behind the wheel. No sermon. No farewell speech. Just a simple, steady look that said everything words could not. Then he drove off, his headlights disappearing into the quiet street.

Lady Elsa adjusted her shawl, her eyes warm but tired. "Someone's on their way to collect me," she said with a faint smile. "You youngsters deserve an evening to yourselves. Try not to burn anything down, or anyone up."

Seth inclined his head politely. "No promises."
She laughed softly, shaking her head as she turned away. "That's exactly what worries me."

We slid into a corner booth, exhaustion heavy enough to eat with a spoon. My stomach made a noise that could've summoned another exorcism.

Jamey leaned back with a smirk. "Our fearless leader, banisher of demons, consumer of entire menus."
I gave him a look. "Careful. I'm still deciding whether you count as poultry or red meat."

When the waiter came, I didn't bother with the menu. "Three steak platters, two chicken wings platters, grilled fish, fries, rice, vegetables, and cheesecake for later."

Jamey raised a brow. "For later? You planning a sequel to dinner?"

Alec chuckled. "She's just reminding the universe she's still human."

Seth's smirk softened as he leaned back. "And that's exactly why I adore her."
I rolled my eyes, but my chest warmed all the same. "Flattery won't get you dessert."

The waiter took the rest of their dessert orders and disappeared, leaving the seven of us in the soft hum of clinking plates and murmured prayers.

Elizabeth, quiet until now, set down her glass and smiled faintly. "You all laugh like people who forgot what danger feels like."

Jamey grinned. "We just laugh louder so it can't find us."

Her smile lingered, gentler this time. "Then maybe I should learn to do the same."

Seth's voice softened. "You already have. You're still here."

Adrian leaned forward, eyes glinting beneath the mellow light. "So this is you," he said, studying us like scripture. "The ones I've been drawn to."

Seth toyed with his fork, tapping it against the edge of his plate like a man testing patience more than hunger. "Drawn how?"

Adrian steepled his fingers. "When the sky broke that day, I saw it. A tear between worlds. I felt it pulling me, but it wasn't only me. There were others, distant but real, caught in the same current. I couldn't see who they were, but I know they felt it too. The pull toward you and to each other."

I turned the fork in my hand before setting it aside. "You couldn't cross?"

He shook his head. "No. My body refused. But my soul leaned toward it. Like a tide drawn to a greater current."

Alec leaned back, arms crossed. "Maybe it wasn't chance we met him. Call it fate."

Samantha looked up from her phone, eyes thoughtful. "I agree. I think the reason Adrian couldn't cross before was that it wasn't his time to meet us."

Samuel glanced up from his screen, nodding. "Yeah. And given how Adrian walked into our lives, his timing was a blessing. Especially how he made that gunman confess who sent them."

Adrian smiled faintly. "I'm glad you said it."

Samuel pointed at Samantha. "Great. It's her fault then. She starts one conversation about fate, and suddenly we're adopting poets."

Jamey leaned in, smirking. "Hey, as long as the next recruit isn't another broody lightning bolt, I'm good."

"Careful, conduit," I said dryly. "You're replaceable."

He grinned wider. "Sure. But no one amplifies your temper like I do."

Adrian chuckled, watching us with that distant calm. "You're an odd group," he said. "Powerful. Unpolished. But right."

Seth reached across the table, brushing his fingers against mine. "Then you're one of us now."

Adrian nodded. "That's what I was hoping you'd say."

Our food arrived then, sizzling and perfect. Plates clattered down, the table glowing with color and warmth.

We ate in reverent silence at first, as if food itself was sacred. Then came the hums of satisfaction, the sighs, the teasing. For a moment, it felt like we had stepped out of battle and into the ordinary world again.

Jamey leaned back, patting his stomach. "You know," he said, glancing at Seth, "I could get used to this. Getting fed at your expense might be my new spiritual calling."

Seth didn't even look up. "Oh, I'm sure Heaven will invoice me for you eventually."

The table broke into quiet laughter.

Adrian watched between bites, thoughtful. When Jamey leaned back again with a satisfied groan, Adrian's lips twitched. "I was wondering what could shut you up."

Jamey grinned without missing a beat. "Food's a sacred art, my friend. You'd know if you spent less time perfecting that tragic haircut."

Adrian choked mid-bite, coughing hard enough to make his eyes water. Seth leaned over and patted his back, maybe a little too firmly. "Easy there," he said. "We're supposed to exorcise demons, not summon them with bad jokes."

For a rare moment, it felt like belonging had a flavor.

Outside, sirens wailed faintly in the distance. Inside, there was only warmth, food, and the soft hum of something like peace. For now, at least, I'd recovered from the Scripture's storm, its echo still lingered somewhere deep, waiting, but it no longer owned my breath.

The Rosewood Table lived up to its name. I was one satisfied customer, and as we left, the scent of cinnamon, butter, and old miracles lingered in the air. When we finally stepped out into the night, full and heavy-eyed, Father Martin was already waiting.

"You'll rest across the street," Father Martin said, pointing to the stone building behind him. "They're expecting you. Tomorrow, we'll move the family somewhere safe."

I nodded, yawning. "Perfect. Somewhere with breakfast and less haunted wallpaper."

Jamey laughed softly. "We just ate half the menu and you're already thinking about breakfast. You're hopeless."

"Correction," I murmured, pushing open the hostel door. "Efficiently hungry."

We found our rooms along the second floor of the hostel. The walls were thin but clean, the kind of place that promised a night's rest if you didn't ask for much more. Jamey whistled his approval from the hall before tossing a lazy goodnight through our open door. Alec grumbled something about the beds creaking, the Sams simply vanished into their rooms, and Adrian gave a quiet nod before closing his.

Inside, the hush was almost sacred. For the first time in what felt like days, no alarms, no walking dead, no screams. Just silence and the faint hum of the city outside.

I showered fast, the hot water striking my sore muscles like forgiveness.

When I stepped out, a neat pile of clothing waited on the chair. New jeans, a soft shirt, even a pair of boots that looked my size. The scent of soap still lingered in the air, clean and human. Seth sat on the bed, towel draped around his neck, his phone beside him, that quiet smirk tugging at his lips, the one that meant he'd worked another of his midnight miracles.

"Express delivery?" I asked, drying my hair.

He tilted his head, eyes gleaming. "For everyone. I dropped the rest off while you were showering. Jamey's thrilled that Alec doesn't have to reek of boogeyman anymore."

I laughed. "Did he actually say that?"

"Word for word. Alec nearly threw a boot at him."

"Good," I muttered. "He earned that smell."

Seth chuckled, stood up, then reached out and gently pressed his thumbs against the back of my neck. His hands were warm, practiced, tracing circles that made my thoughts blur into something soft.

"What do you think of Adrian?" he asked quietly, voice low and steady.

I arched my back, welcoming the strokes. "I was wondering when you'd ask." I turned around to face him and reached for him to brush my fingertips across his cheek. "You already knew our circle would grow. Heaven wouldn't send someone with dark intent, not after everything. I trust that much. The rest... can wait."

He leaned forward, the scent of soap and something faintly electric between us. "That's why I'm glad you're the one leading," he murmured. "You trust where I'd question."

"Maybe that's why we work," I whispered back.

Seth smiled, then gently nudged me toward the bed, sliding in beside me. His arm slipped around my waist, pulling me close. "Or maybe it's because Jamey's amplifying trick hasn't worn off yet," he muttered against my hair. "Because right now, exhaustion's got nothing on you."

I laughed, low and breathless, turning into his warmth. "Then don't waste the miracle."

The light clicked off. The room breathed with us. And for that single, fleeting night, the world was quiet enough to let love feel holy again.

Morning came quietly, washed in pale light and the faint sound of city traffic. We met in the hostel foyer where Father Martin waited with a grateful smile.

"I moved the family at dawn," he said, adjusting his collar. "A temporary home until we can make other arrangements. They're safe now."

I nodded. "I'm heading home to recharge. Spiritually, emotionally... and mostly to survive Jamey's absence in silence."

Father Martin gave a tired smile. "Then you've earned every inch of that peace, my child. Even saints need somewhere soft to fall."

"She always gets the blessings. I save the world too, you know. Mostly from her temper." Jamey stops dead in his tracks but its Alec that took the cake when he stepped past Father Martin, adjusting his jacket, straightening his collar. "With luck, Father, we won't meet again. No offense, it just means we've met our yearly quota of near-death experiences."

That earned a faint chuckle before we parted ways.