Dillon. Well, not a completely blown cover, then. At least they weren't letting another mortal in on the secrets of magic. Skulduggery was fairly sure they were already breaking some sort of record in that department.
But he didn't answer Gabe right away, and there were several reasons for that. The first one was that he hadn't been called Dillon in almost four hundred years. He hadn't actually told Gabe that was his given name, either, which doubled the jarring effect. That would have been enough for Skulduggery to process, though, if it weren't for Gabe himself.
Or herself.
Before, he'd only caught a glimpse in his rearview mirror. Rationally, with how many versions of the Archangel Gabriel portrayed him as a beautiful woman, Skulduggery knew this could not have been Gabe's first time wearing the skin.
It still stunned him into silence. How could it not? Gabe was someone Skulduggery had admitted feelings for, someone he had a tested and proven metaphysical connection with, and that someone was now a gorgeous woman. Gorgeous only in that particular way of an angel's, effortlessly beautiful to the point where it was really unfair. She had two dimples in her cheeks, made no effort to dim her smile, and it left Skulduggery utterly unable to so much as defend the dignity of the wig.
"Desmond Edgley," Des added on to Gabe's quick introduction, and shook Kelly's hand with a smile. "Pleased to meet you. Is that the abused womens' shelter just a few streets over?"
Skulduggery used that conversation to try and put the pieces of his mind back together. Kelly knew a fraction of the truth, it seemed, so he'd have to be careful there. Des knew more of the truth, but not all of it. Keeping their levels of knowledge separate would have been second nature if Skulduggery were still in possession of all his mental faculties, but as it was, he could barely keep from staring at Gabe. Focusing on what he said next was proving to be difficult. "What was the trouble? Has she hurt anyone?"
no subject
But he didn't answer Gabe right away, and there were several reasons for that. The first one was that he hadn't been called Dillon in almost four hundred years. He hadn't actually told Gabe that was his given name, either, which doubled the jarring effect. That would have been enough for Skulduggery to process, though, if it weren't for Gabe himself.
Or herself.
Before, he'd only caught a glimpse in his rearview mirror. Rationally, with how many versions of the Archangel Gabriel portrayed him as a beautiful woman, Skulduggery knew this could not have been Gabe's first time wearing the skin.
It still stunned him into silence. How could it not? Gabe was someone Skulduggery had admitted feelings for, someone he had a tested and proven metaphysical connection with, and that someone was now a gorgeous woman. Gorgeous only in that particular way of an angel's, effortlessly beautiful to the point where it was really unfair. She had two dimples in her cheeks, made no effort to dim her smile, and it left Skulduggery utterly unable to so much as defend the dignity of the wig.
"Desmond Edgley," Des added on to Gabe's quick introduction, and shook Kelly's hand with a smile. "Pleased to meet you. Is that the abused womens' shelter just a few streets over?"
Skulduggery used that conversation to try and put the pieces of his mind back together. Kelly knew a fraction of the truth, it seemed, so he'd have to be careful there. Des knew more of the truth, but not all of it. Keeping their levels of knowledge separate would have been second nature if Skulduggery were still in possession of all his mental faculties, but as it was, he could barely keep from staring at Gabe. Focusing on what he said next was proving to be difficult. "What was the trouble? Has she hurt anyone?"