An arm came over my chest and yanked me against a body. I twisted and jabbed an elbow into the attacker’s gut, then moved to grab my knife, but a sharp object poked the side of my neck, and as the one who held me turned us around together, I saw the mortals in the kitchen were sprawled on the floor. My mom, unconscious but breathing, lay next to a pair of the commander’s angels with twisted necks and broken wings. The keep door was open, and there stood Lord Raphael. In his hands, he carried his rotting wings.
Chapter 2
Michael wouldn’t know mercy if it broke his nose. Once-a-month meals kept me weak and reliant on my immortal strength for survival. Starvation also kept me from extending my healing powers to my wings, which he’d nailed to the wall across from my cell purely to torture me. Seeing as Michael wouldn’t give up the Marked girl and went as far as calling her his soul’s mate, I had relied on Lucifer to end her and prevent a catastrophe in the realm.
His control over the Marked girl meant he’d gained access to Michael, forcing me to make Lucifer an offer far more valuable than the pleasure of torturing the poor mortal and thereby torturing Michael. I’d need to deal with Lucifer once I returned to my Court.
Before I dealt with him, I needed to escape Michael’s keep. All these months, I bided my time, reserving my strength for the perfect opportunity. It came today when I wasn’t ready. I would’ve preferred at least another month of power reserves, but the soul of the soldier who fed me brushed mine right after Michael tore off my wings. As if Father chose that moment to give me the strength my brother had ripped from me.
Eventually, I would tell her what had happened that day. Not today. Today, we needed to escape. By feeding me more often than allowed, she put her life in danger. So here I was, standing in Michael’s kitchen, rotting wings in my hands, and a half-baked escape plan in my head.
“Bring that soldier,” I told Cayen, who held the girl captive under a knife. The second Michael found out Lucifer was in my Court, he’d fly after him. I would be surprised if he left his Court for longer than a few weeks since his soul’s mate lived here. But I had at least those few weeks to make it to my Court, find out what happened in my absence, assemble my males—if left with any—grow wings, and become a suitable match for my soul’s mate, and I had to do all this before Michael landed and wrecked my Court either in pursuit of Lucifer or just because he could.
Cayen, Job, and Galo, two of my battle angels Michael had placed on janitor duty, the girl, and I moved out of the kitchen and toward the healing baths, stopping first by the laundry room. There, the frightened staff lined themselves up against the walls. “You.” I pointed at the middle-aged woman. “Bring me a uniform.”
She scurried to the closets and opened them, searching the folded piles of white cloth.
“Today, mortal.”
She picked one and turned, attempting to approach me.
I raised a hand. “Leave it on the floor and assume your previous position.”
The woman dropped the clothes and rejoined the lineup.
Everyone in this place was a trained soldier. With that in mind, I kept an eye on the mortals as I walked across the room, dragging my wings on the floor. As I gathered the clothes, I sensed a body move, a mortal’s hand gripping a cold object.
“Drop the weapon,” I said, then swept up my wings from the floor.
Nothing happened.
“I will shatter your fist. Drop the weapon.”
A knife hit the floor. The man kicked it toward me so I wouldn’t have to ask. Good for him. I nodded and headed for the exit. A large sack caught my eye. I turned it over, dumping out the linens, and then placed my wings inside. Half the wings stuck out, but it would have to do. The laundry staff gagged, no doubt because of the odor my wings emitted. The stench didn’t offend me anymore.
We exited the laundry room and walked toward Michael’s baths. When I reached them, I touched the water and sucked up all the healing powers from them. I needed it for my journey, but I also took great pleasure in picturing Michael’s face when he realized his baths were now useless. If I weren’t in such a hurry, I’d drain the entire Command Fleet of all healing capabilities. Pity I didn’t have time, for I loved imagining Michael’s expression when he realized his mighty fleet had lost all access to the restorative capabilities that kept his soldiers and himself resilient.
Smiling, I marched past the baths and into the drain canal. Sooner or later, Michael would come and beg forgiveness. When his Court started dying of festering wounds and hunger, he’d come seeking help from the only Court in the realm that could heal them all.
We emerged from the canal at the back of the Court. A waterfall trickled down the mountain and into the sea hundreds of feet below. I spotted two abandoned fishing vessels bobbing in the waves.
“Leave the soldier in one vessel,” I said, handing Cayen the clean uniform from the laundry. Galo took my wings. My angels flew the captive soldier away and deposited her in one of the boats. I expected her to struggle, try to escape, or scream, but she looked up and bit her lip as if…as if she worried about me.
I might not have wings, mortal, but I’m still me. I jumped from the cliff, hit the water hard, and quickly adjusted my body to the below-zero temperatures. Emerging as if my lungs hadn’t ceased working from the impact and freezing water, I swam to the vessel and climbed aboard, but caught myself right before I tried shaking the water off wings no longer attached to my back. Instead of shaking those, I shook off my anger and dressed in a white uniform.
Cayen untied the transport vessel from the shore, and we set off.
“A watch?” I extended my hand.
Cayen handed me one, and I pressed the screw on the side, then slipped the watch into my pocket. “We have, at most, two minutes before the fleet comes this way.” Under normal circumstances, I could control the water to propel us forward, but Michel might feel my power pulse. Right now, I had an advantage, and by the time he found out I’d escaped, it would be too late. The wind would have to do, and controlling it required a tiny power pulse. I simply urged the already existing wind force to hit the vessel.
Predators—large fish and other monsters Michael kept around the House—bumped into the vessel. The vessel’s prow lifted, causing the girl to slide down the length of the boat and end up right between my legs on the other end. She tried moving, but I put a hand on her shoulder. “You may stay,” I said.
Wide, frightened, pretty dark-brown eyes that matched the color of her skin looked up at me. “Those things eat people.”
“I know.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“To my Court.”
“Why?”
“I need a hostage.” I wasn’t having the soul's mate conversation with her yet. I needed a stronger confirmation. A single brush wasn’t it. The cost of a miscalculation in these matters would be steep. Besides, I was unwashed, wingless, and weak. I wouldn’t mate with me either. Michael would pay for this.
Her gaze searched the sky, for the Command Fleet, no doubt.
I retrieved the watch. “Thirty seconds.”
“I’ll take the girl,” Cayen said.
I shook my head.
“My Lord, the hostage is a burden for you, and she can’t survive the waters.”