“We leave in two minutes.” Bane said.
“Why leave now?” she whispered to Bane when the others headed to their rooms.
“We get there early, scope out the terrain. Come up with a contingency plan, in case shit goes sideways.”
Sound idea, but she was still on edge. “I can’t go through the conduits with you, so how am I—” The expression on his face gave her the answer. “I’m not staying here.”
“You’re staying to guard Daghony.”
“I’m not a nurse!”
Bane cocked his head and arched an eyebrow. “Are you refusing to care for him when he risked his life for you?”
She gritted her teeth to keep from strangling him. “I don’t know Daghony well, but I am certain his priority would be saving the Cruor.”
Bane nodded. “You’re right. He’d drag his overcooked ass out of bed and demand to go with us. That’s why you’re staying to make sure he stays put.”
Kush, Zed, Chay, and Rimmon lined up next to Bane, each laden with weapons. Kush had his tri-blade, Chay a single sword, while Rimmon had two blades strapped to his waist, and he’d finally covered his chest with a fitted white shirt. Zed had no weapons she could see. All were dressed similarly in fitted clothing with long sleeves. Zed and Bane favored long coats— black leather for Bane—while Zed favored some type of burlap cloak.
Razuel saluted them and walked into the shadows.
“Is he going ahead?” she asked.
“He’s drunk, Amaya.”
She took a quick head count. “Are five of you enough to infiltrate a Vegas hotel with lots of access points and lots of windows?” Killing Darklings in alleys and abandoned homes didn’t come close to what they were about to attempt.
“It will be,” Chay said as he and the rest of the UnHallowed strode into a corner at the back of the room and vanished into the shadows.
Amaya whipped around to Bane. Panic choked her. “What about Sam, Sammiél? Is he meeting you there?” Having the Archangel of Death on your team had to tip the odds in your favor.
“No.” He pulled on a pair of black leather gloves.
She spun away from him, only to be grabbed, and yanked back to him. He gripped her shoulders, holding her until she stopped struggling to free herself.
“I’m not flattered by your lack of faith.”
Faith? How could she have faith when slapped with reality? His hands dropped to his sides, but not before his fingers brushed her wings. She looked into his eyes, desperate to know his thoughts. He seemed calm enough, prepared for what he needed to do. Was that for her benefit?
“Stay here, Amaya. I’ll be back with the Cruor.” He swept past her, his leather coat flaring as he moved. The shadows reached for him.
“Good luck,” she blurted at the last second.
He paused, but didn’t turn around. “So, you believe in luck, but not in faith?” he threw over his shoulder.
“Faith hasn’t gotten me anywhere, but I have been lucky.” The last thing she saw was his smirk, then the shadows swallowed him.
She couldn’t explain the panic engulfing her. It was irrational, yet blooming in the center of her chest. Have faith he said. How to do that when the last time she had faith Braile left her?
“Get over it,” she mumbled, not quite sure which she meant, get over Braile or get over Bane. This was the second time he’d dumped her, left her by the wayside. There wouldn’t be a third.
Five UnHallowed went to battle one Demoni Lord. However badass Malphas was, he couldn’t defeat all of them.
Amaya made her way down the hallway to Daghony’s room. She’d keep him company until he was upright and the others returned. She halted in the doorway, surprised by Gadreel at his bedside. The glow from the bedside lamp cast him in stark relief. This seemed to be the first time she truly got a good look at him. The black leather covering him molded to every muscle and sinew. It resembled armor rather than a fashion faux pas. He stood over Daghony, watching with flat gunmetal eyes. He didn’t look up when she entered.
“Why are you here and not with the others?”
“I would if I could, but I can’t.” His attention remained on Daghony.
She didn’t understand what can’t meant. “They left a few minutes ago. You can catch up in the conduits.”
Aggression leeched from him. “Did you not hear me? I said, I can’t.”
“Okay. Why can’t you?”
Finally, his gaze left Daghony’s unconscious body to meet hers. “You have Braile’s grace, you should have all his memories.”
She stiffened. Asking how he knew this was as good as admitting the truth. She shifted through the memories of Braile she did have. There weren’t many. Of those she had access to, Gadreel was a clean-shaven, trimmed-hair, burly of build archangel with an easy laugh. He loved to fight, testing his skill he called it, against any brave enough to take up the challenge. Sammiél refused the bait. Michael was above such things. Kushiél lost, but took it in stride. Braile fought Gadreel to a draw, and that was only after the Archangel of Weapons had trained for millennia just for that battle.
“I met with Braile centuries after the fall. I wanted him to petition Father for a meeting. Not only for me, for all of us. Braile refused. It took me centuries to forgive him, though he was correct to refuse my request.”
“Why?” she asked.
“I wanted redemption to end my suffering, not because I had learned something.”
“How are you suffering?” she asked.
His gaze flinty, he snapped, “You think I enjoy dressing in leather covering every inch of my body?”
She shrugged. “I just want to know why you’re not with the UnHallowed. They need you. I can stay here and take care of Daghony.”
He was in her face, backing her up against the nearest wall without a single touch. “Do you think if I could, I wouldn’t be in Vegas with them, plotting Malphas’s imminent death?”
“Then why? What?” Amaya shoved him back. She didn’t like him so close to her. “What’s the reason?”
His eyes narrowed into thin slits. “No one has told you?”
Pissed, she held up one finger. “This is the first time you and I have met. No one has told me jack shit about you.”
He nodded, his gaze hooded. “I was the Archangel of Weapons. No weapon ever made is a mystery to me, can harm me. After the Great Betrayal, my flesh cannot touch any weapon without becoming a living weapon, bent on killing anything breathing in the most brutal way. Now do you understand why I can’t go with my brothers?”
The UnHallowed wasn’t looking for her sympathy and she had none to give. “Fine, since you’re useless to me, you can stay and take care of Daghony while I go help.”
She walked around him, close to the bed. Daghony’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. “You’re awake?” She dropped to a knee and clasped his hand to her chest.
“Where are they? My brothers, where?” he wheezed.
“Not your problem. You rest and let us handle everything.”
“Where?” he demanded and pushed onto his elbows. The skin around his elbows, shoulders, and abs cracked and oozed a grayish liquid. Gadreel rushed to Daghony’s other side and shoved him onto his back, and pinned him by the shoulders.
“Rest,” Gadreel demanded. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Daghony put up a brief struggle, then collapsed, unconscious again.
Gadreel met her gaze. “Go. I’ll watch him. I won’t let him hurt himself.”
Antsy to leave, Amaya rushed for the door, then paused. Daghony’s welfare was her responsibility. “Are you sure you can handle it?” she asked Gadreel.
“I can’t wield a weapon. Doesn’t mean I can’t care for an invalid.”
Amaya ran for her bedroom. She changed into her ninja outfit of black yoga pants and Under Armor compression tee, jackboots, and black hoodie, after she took a pair of scissors to the compression and hoodie to accommodate her wings. Then she strapped the weapon
s she’d trusted almost her entire life onto her body. She looked at the bed where she’d laid her new sword before getting a shower. It was gone, yet, she was certain it would show up when she needed it.
She smoothed her hair into a low ponytail, and climbed out of her window and onto the roof. There was only one person who could help her. Hopefully, she hadn’t gotten too far, and if she had, Amaya had an idea where she may be headed.
Amaya just had to fly to get to that person’s destination. “Birds do it and I will too.”
Without hesitation, she opened her wings and jumped.
37
The second time around, Amaya was proud to say she had improved or rather, she hadn’t fallen out of the sky. Thank whatever saint or sinner it was nighttime. She stayed relatively close to the ground and prayed to not draw the attention of the regular folk milling about. Midnight in the summer on a Saturday, the streets were full of people. All she needed was for one to glance up and see the human flying overhead.
Amaya followed the road away from the farm for ten miles before it came to a small town and the first state road. She made a right and headed for the interstate, which would take her back to Detroit. A single car, a red Mercedes, was parked at a gas station before the on-ramp. She circled, hoping for a graceful landing, only to crash into the dumpster next to the last pump.
“What the—” Scarla didn’t rush right over. She took her time as Amaya grabbed onto the metal lid and hauled herself upright. She flexed her shoulders. The wings felt okay. She twisted around for a glance.
“They’re fine. Are you following me?” Hands on hips, Scarla’s foot tapped out a tune.
“Yeah. I need your help.” Amaya dusted herself off.
Scarla took Amaya’s hand and squeezed. “What’s happened? Who else is hurt?”
“No. No. It’s nothing like that.” Amaya shook her head. “Everyone’s fine, and we have to keep them that way. That’s why I need your help.”
Scarla folded her arms and rocked back on her heels. “Get to the point. What’s going on?”
“The Cruor is in Vegas, but its only there during the daytime. The UnHallowed are going to get it.”
“During daylight!” Scarla shouted.
“Exactly. They left me here to guard Daghony, but Gadreel is there watching over him. I need to be in Vegas to help. Problem is, it’s twenty-nine hours away by car. I figure flying myself there will cut that in half, still, that’s almost fifteen hours of me flapping my wings when I need to be there by daylight, which is in six hours.”
Scarla’s mouth hung open. “Oh fuck! What am I supposed to do? I don’t own a plane.” She threw her hands up.
“Someone like you has got to know someone who has one.” Amaya had pinned her hope on this. It had to work or else...
Scarla inhaled a sharp breath. Amaya braced for the reaming, but Scarla got this wide-eyed look as if someone had just shoved an ice cube into her bra. “I do know someone…Damn it, it’s gonna cost me.”
The Learjet came into view as Scarla and Amaya cleared the last checkpoint. Amaya hid in the back seat, which wasn’t easy considering her wings. Luckily, Scarla had a blanket in the back for Amaya to cover up and pretend she was asleep.
“All right. Dimi’s pilot knows you’re flying to Vegas. Flight time is four hours. That’s plenty of time before sunrise. After that, you’re on your own.”
Amaya sat up and yanked the blanket away. “Good. Thanks. I appreciate all your help. One other thing.” She pointed at her wings. “What am I supposed to do about these?”
Scarla twisted her body around as much as the bucket seat allowed and sneered, “Do I have wings to know the answer to that stupid question?”
“Well, how does Kush, Dag, and the rest hide their wings?”
“I. Don’t. Know. It was never a question I asked,” Scarla gritted between clenched teeth.
Amaya flopped back into the seat. She couldn’t get on the plane with a set of wings.
“And here comes the pilot,” Scarla snapped. Sure enough, the pilot had walked down the stairs and headed toward the car. “W-what are we gonna say?” she mumbled as the pilot stopped by her window.
Amaya didn’t have a clue.
The pilot tapped on the window. Scarla plastered on a smile and rolled it down. “Hi there!”
“Good evening, Ms. Weston. I’m Captain Davis. Is there any luggage you need loaded?”
“No luggage, and I’m not the one flying today.”
Captain Davis ducked and peered into the car. “Whoa. What’s with the wings and strange eyes?”
“Cosplay,” Amaya blurted. “There’s a convention in Vegas I just have to get to.”
The pilot nodded. “Oh. Yeah, my kid is into that.”
Scarla shot Amaya a look that said, Wow. That bullshit actually worked? as the pilot walked around the car. Amaya hopped out before he got to her door.
He stared at the wings, his mouth slightly parted. “Did you build it yourself or did you hire someone? Because they did a fabulous job.”
If I say I built them myself, he’ll want details. If I say I hired someone, he’ll want a name and contact information. “It was a gift from my father. His last gift, that’s why I don’t want to take them off.”
Sorrow flashed across his face and guilt stabbed her. She hated lying but had no choice. She had to get to Vegas. “He really wanted me to enjoy the convention. I wish he were here to enjoy it with me, but…” Her throat burned as if she’d gargled with acid.
The pilot gently patted her shoulder. “Let’s get you to Vegas.”
“What do you mean that’s not enough blood!” Taige slammed Aiden into the bookshelf. Books, shelves, everything collapsed onto the Spaun. Aiden scrambled to get away, but Taige snatched him up and pinned him to the wall.
Aiden yanked free. He straightened his clothes and raked his hands through his disheveled hair. He strutted over to the pail and dipped a finger inside. His tongue snaked out to lick it clean. “A virgin Pina Colada has more punch than what’s in this pail.”
“How is that possible? She’s brat of an archangel. Seed of one of their loins. That’s the only way her blood could even smell like this. It should be potent enough!” He blistered Aiden’s ear.
“Don’t know. Are you sure she’s half archangel?”
Taige gripped the back of Aiden’s head and almost shoved it into the pail. “Can’t you smell it?
Aiden took a deep sniff and nodded. “Yeah. I suppose. I can’t explain why it’s so weak. The last drop of an archangel’s blood is what it took to close the portal. Her blood is so diluted we probably need to bring her here and squeeze every drop out of every organ.”
“I did,” Taige snarled, and spun away to pound both fists into a wall. “She was practically dead when I left her at the hospital.”
“Practically dead is not dead. We need the last drop.” Aiden dipped his entire hand into the pail. This time his tongue forked and cleaned every drop from his skin.
“Fine,” Taige snapped as he adjusted his clothes and smoothed his hair in the same manner as Aiden. “I know Malphas has the Cruor. It’ll take time to find it, but find it we will, after we find her.” He dipped his finger into the pail and licked it clean.
“Should be easy as it was before, especially with all this blood, which we no longer need.” Glee danced in Aiden’s eyes and Taige didn’t have to guess what he wanted. “Can I?” Aiden clapped and his tongue unfurled to dangle halfway down his chest.
“No! It may not be strong enough to open the portal, but there is another spell it may be suitable for. Even without the Halfling, all is not lost.”
Aiden retracted his tongue and pouted. He was smart enough to keep the rest of his disappointment to himself. “What is our next move?”
Taige sighed. “We go to Vegas, find what clues we can and then search the rest of Malphas’s strongholds. We will succeed,” he said more to himself than to Aiden.
Aiden bowed low in supplication,
an honor the Spaun had never given Taige. The act elevated Taige to leader instead of co-conspirator. Two Spaun whose loyalty belonged to different Demoni Lords were now bonded in a silent pledge only death could break. Strangeness swept over Taige, the sensation so foreign it took him a moment to identify it. Ownership.
Taige shed the façade cloaking his true form and accepted the gift bestowed. He’d just acquired his first slave.
38
With a hard tip of her wings, Amaya banked to the left then circled the rooftop for the third time. Strong winds slammed into her, tossing her around. She managed to keep flying and spotted four cameras covering every access point and a fifth facing the helipad. The tiny blinking red lights on top of the devices made it easy. If she was right, they were all pointed in the same direction, at the center.
The winds died down for a moment and she glided to an awkward landing behind a pair of gigantic air conditioning units on the south side of the roof. She ducked low behind the structure. It would be her luck to have the cameras sweep the entire roof the moment she landed.
A vacay in Vegas had always been on her bucket list. Hit the casinos, win some money, catch a show, people watch, celebrity hunt. Hiding on a rooftop with a pair of wings attached to her back never entered the fantasy.
What a way to spend her first day in Vegas. Cool air washed over her, totally unexpected. In her mind, Vegas equaled the desert which equaled hot. She thought the average temperature never went below eighty, yet here she was shivering.
Where were the UnHallowed? With a four-hour advantage, they had to be here, somewhere. She assessed the large vent next to her. Fitting in it wouldn’t be a problem, until it narrowed and she got stuck. The unpleasant, but hilarious image of the fire department freeing her from the duct made her snort and quickly sober.
Malphas demon, Demoni—whatever—had to know the UnHallowed wouldn’t let him keep the portal to Hell. The entire rooftop scenario was the most bullshit trap she’d ever seen. A toddler could’ve staged this better, but what choice did she or the UnHallowed have?
Only One I Want (UnHallowed Series Book 2) Page 22
