Radiant by Cynthia Hand Read Free Book Online

someone’s-dancing-on-my-grave sensation.
    “So you were a Watcher,” I say slowly, trying to keep my voice casual.
    His eyes flash at the word.
    “Clara,” Angela mutters. “Enough with the Spanish Inquisition.”
    I meet Phen’s dark eyes, hold his gaze.
    “What do you know about Watchers?” he asks.
    “I’ve read The Book of Enoch .”
    He sighs. “Inaccurate.”
    “Okay, set the record straight. You were there, right?”
    Silence. I wonder if I’ve gone too far, if I’ve foolishly cheesed off somebody who’s going to turn out to be a Black Wing and squish me like a grape.
    “Originally it wasn’t a bad thing, to be a Watcher,” he says. “All the term means is that we were sent to watch over the humans, teach them. Some of us did more than watch, obviously.” He looks away. “Some of us fell in love with them.”
    Angela shoots me a glare that would melt steel. I ignore her. “So you’re not evil, is that what you’re saying?”
    He meets my eyes again. “I’m ambivalent. I refuse to fight on either side.”
    “You’re neutral,” Angela pipes up. “Like Switzerland.”
    “Yes.” He turns to her with an amused expression, pats her on the knee affectionately. “Exactly like Switzerland.”
     
    “You were rude to him,” Angela says to me when we’re back in the spare room at Rosa’s house. She scowls into the mirror and takes off her necklace, starts brushing out her hair.
    “I just asked him some questions, Ange. Relax.”
    “You interrogated him.”
    “I don’t know him.”
    “Yeah, well, I do. I’ve known him for years. He’s not evil, Clara. I know there’s all that crap about him being an ambivalent, but that only means he doesn’t want to fight. He’s above that.”
    I sit down on the bed, kick off my shoes. “Right. Above it.” I don’t understand how she could be okay with this when she’s so gung-ho about her own duty, her purpose, her bright white wings that mean that she’s so pure of heart, so committed to the side of good. Why wouldn’t she hold Phen to the same standard?
    “He’s a good guy,” she says, grabbing a handful of hair and starting to braid it.
    “He’s not a guy at all.”
    “Look, I don’t need you to protect me, Clara,” she says. “I met him in a church, remember? Hallowed ground and all that? If he was evil he wouldn’t have been able to go in there, right?”
    “Okay,” I admit grudgingly.
    “So let’s drop it. I don’t want to fight.” She finishes braiding one side and starts braiding the other. I go to the sink to wash my face. I’m brushing my teeth when she appears in the mirror behind me.
    “I thought you’d like him,” she says, and I don’t have to be an empath to know that she’s disappointed in my reaction. She likes Phen. More than likes him. She wants me to like him, too. She wants me to see what she sees in him.
    I lean over and spit into the sink. “I didn’t say I don’t like him. I said I don’t know him.”
    “Okay, so get to know him. Come hang out with us tomorrow. We’re going to Vatican City. Embrace the tourist thing, like you said.”
    Her eyes meet mine in the mirror, hopeful.
    I’m a softie. That, and I really do want to see St. Peter’s Basilica. “Okay, fine.”
    “Really? You’ll come with us?”
    “What, you want me to pinkie swear?”
    “You’ll like him,” she says. “You’ll see.”
    “All right. Hey, wait.” I catch her by the shoulders before she buzzes out of the room. “You haven’t told him about me, have you? About me being a . . . T-person . About my dad?”
    “No,” she says, frowning. “We haven’t talked about that kind of thing much this time.”
    “Well, don’t. I know you trust him or whatever, but that’s my private stuff, okay?”
    “Okay,” she says with a dismissive shake of her head.
    “Promise me.” I look into her eyes.
    She smirks. “What, do you want me to pinkie swear?”
    “Yep.” I hold up my hand, pinkie raised. She grins and