"Or I lose my retirement." "Which means?" Damn, he sounded like an idiot. "Which means—" "He'll lose the only chance he's got at livin' out his mortal life!" Gawan closed his eyes, muttered a fine Welsh curse or two, then opened his eyes again. "Godfrey, by Christ—" "Fine! I'm leaving. Just don't forget to tell the girl everything, lad. Everything!" Ellie's face had gone decidedly pasty. "There's more?" She clapped a hand over her forehead. "Oh, gosh, I can't believe I've possibly altered a retiring Angel's pending mortalism." Damnation, how he didn't want to tell her another bloody thing. He knew, though, with little thanks to Godfrey, that lace-wearing peahen, that she'd pester him until he did tell. " 'Tisn't your fault, Ell, and I vow to set things aright before long. We've nearly three weeks." She slid her hand over her eyes, then peeped through a crack made between two fingers. "Stop skirting, Conwyk. Tell me everything." She dropped her hand and narrowed her eyes. "And I mean it." He cleared his throat.
