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praying for his immortal soul, and I went to her. I promised to remove José’s desire to gamble if Doña Rosa told a little white lie and delivered a gift for me.”
    The boy offered helpfully, “He appeared to Doña Rosa in church and made her believe she had a vision from God.” When Diago shifted his attention to the child, the boy’s cheeks reddened. “He let me watch,” he whispered, his fledgling confidence disappearing beneath Diago’s gaze.
    â€œI see.” Diago nodded in what he hoped was a reassuring manner, as he edged closer to his son.
    A tremulous smile returned to the boy’s mouth.
    He wants to be loved so badly . Diago saw the need in his son’s eyes and something tore inside his chest. If I can just get to him. He managed to take one more step closer before Miquel warned him with another shake of his head. Diago halted in his tracks.
    â€œA lesson to him.” Prieto pretended to ignore them and considered his next move. “He needs to understand the power of a true angel, one who is not sullied by mortal flesh.” He chose stones from his side of the board. “A lesson Miquel should heed since he refused to arrange a meeting between you and me.” Prieto spared Miquel a quick glare. “He wanted to check with Guillermo first. In the old days, a Nefil would have obeyed me without question, then informed Guillermo. Los Nefilim are becoming arrogant, it seems. What do you know about that, Diago?”
    â€œNothing. I stay out of their business.”
    â€œHmm. No pillow talk. That’s a shame.” Prieto dropped the marbles into their respective pits. “It’s a good thing most mortals still respect us. Those that don’t can be bought. I had to pay José for his help, but the expense was worth it. He proved quite clever for a mortal. He waited until his mother left to visit a friend. Then he just announced a phone call from you, and of course, Miquel, knowing how you hate the phone, assumed it was an emergency. José took him down quite skillfully. One punch to the face. Miquel never saw it coming.”
    The gouge in the wall by the phone. . .
    Miquel looked away, but not before Diago saw his shame. He had been caught off guard by a mortal. The error might have been forgivable in a younger Nefil, but for Miquel, the lapse in judgment was inexcusable.
    Prieto said, “He should have done as I asked.” He gestured at Miquel, who took a sharp short breath.
    A flash of silver light coursed beneath his skin and through his veins. A sigil spun just over his heart. It was an ugly creation made of jagged lines and serrated edges, like a circular saw blade. Diago recognized it immediately. It was a binding sigil. He knew from experience the agony of such a glyph. Disobedience caused the ward to clench a Nefil’s heart, and send electric shocks through the limbs.
    Diago took three steps toward Miquel before Prieto’s voice stopped him.
    â€œLeave him, Diago. I can make it worse.” Prieto clenched his fist. The sigil burned brighter. Miquel cried out.
    â€œAll right!” He halted and snapped the words like bullets. “Stop hurting him!”
    Prieto opened his hand. He’d made his point. The sigil disappeared.
    Diago’s apprehension receded marginally as Miquel took a deep breath. And what about my son? He backed up and examined the boy. No silver streaked his veins, nor had Prieto bound him with a sigil. The boy clenched the toy pony’s mane and regarded Diago with naked curiosity.
    Prieto missed nothing. His tone turned parental as he coaxed the youngster. “Greet your father, Rafael.”
    Rafael. The name went through Diago like a shock. Suddenly, he smelled the hard scent of tin—­ and carnations, she kept carnations by the bed —­and recalled Candela lazily tracing the scars on his chest. The golden snake had slid from her hair to coil over his heart, cool like