Page 138 of The Phoenix

By her side, Oskar snorted short puffs of smoke. Many of his cousins were dead. She’d mourn them later. Now was for the living, the still standing and fighting.

The show-stopping bickering between Gahya and Gabriel gave her a much-needed break to recharge her witch battery. Bending forward, she rested both palms on her knees before she drew a deep breath. Ready, she jerked upright, flexing her fingers, limbering up to cast more spells.

But once she reloaded, the atmosphere crackled with energy. A hum of power raised the hair on her arms. She twisted left. Right. Where was it coming from?

When she saw, she gasped.

What the fuck?

Perched on a hillside was Roark, his fists balanced on the two curved karambit blades strapped at his hips. His lips curled into a snarl, dark clouds roiling behind him. The male was pissed, tempestuous waves of rage rolling off him, the air around him shimmering. His aura sparked with electricity as if he were plugged into a power line. While she watched along with everyone in the valley, he exploded into the sky, wings blazing from his spine.

Except these were not the ebony feathers of a raven.

Damn.

He streaked high into the clouds, disappearing but returning with a burst of speed, nothing more than a flaming streak bulleting toward the ground. He pulled to a stop at the last minute, almost leaving skid marks in the air. He hovered near the two immortals. Roark’s fiery wings heated the atmosphere while his booming voice thundered across the battlefield. “I am the Feard’s Ohngel, the fire-winged assassin of the OneCreator. This insanity stops now.”

Indigo fisted her hips, her feet planted on terra firma below her lover’s terrifying form. His muscular body was perfect as ever, but his enormous blazing wings threatened death to any challenger. She scratched her ear. “Ohngel?”

Her mind was sluggish. It couldn’t connect with his words or image. What was Roark up to? Why did he claim to be Ohngel?

Sonofabitch.

“Oskar, heel.”

Flashing to her side, the gryphon lowered to his belly, dipping his head. Using one of his haunches like a footstool, Indigo climbed onto his back, straddling his wide body. With a flick of her wrist, she conjured a harness. Gripping the reins, she snapped, “To Roark. Or whoever the fuck he is.”

Oskar took to the air with Indigo along for the ride. He beelined for Roark, angling his wings for a swift flight. When he slid to a halt in the sky, Indigo’s ass bounced, and she nearly lost her seat. With a tight grip on the lead, she pulled herself into place again.

Roark, or Ohngel, flung out an arm. With storm clouds gathered around him, blocking the sun, he clutched a bolt of jagged lightning.

As if just realizing she was here, he whipped his head toward her, his eyes chips of shattered gray glass. “Return to the ground, witch. I’m a little busy.”

She stroked Oskar’s neck, giving some thought to the directive. “No.”

“What? Do as I say. Now.” His glowing wings dipped and rose, angry like his command.

His voice rocked the air, causing Oskar to wobble backward. Indigo clucked to move close again. “That would be a hell no.”

“Saucy broad.”

“And you’re hot stuff. As secrets go, yours was a big one. Tell me how to protect your fucking, lying, tight ass.”

Gahya, deserting her ground troops, flew toward Roark, halting a mere ten feet away, her glinting silver feathers less spectacular than the prevaricating bastard’s.

While the two immortals faced off, Indigo’s snap feminine and witchy intuition told her a few things. First, Roark and Gahya of the unspectacular wings had had a thing. Since Roark looked at the Genitrix with disgust, their thing was a thing of the past. The ex-lover, however, stared at Roark as if he were on tonight’s menu. Second, the immortal, though gorgeous, lacked compassion. All in all, she was a bitch. And Indigo killed bitches for breakfast. Besides, the goddess was no warrior. She was a pampered, selfish female.

Ignoring Indigo as if she were invisible, Gahya spoke. “My love, how unexpected to see you.”

Roark shot a quick glance at Indigo. “Let me talk.”

“Sure, kinda-shifter, full-time fibber.” Indigo grasped Oskar’s reins, turning her beast to face the blonde immortal.

His eyes returned to Gahya. “Leave.”

She rubbed a seductive hand along the arch of one wing. “No. The OneCreator promised me a win. I earned it. I shall take it at the head of my creatures’ army. It is our due to subjugate the weaker humans.”

Roark held up a fist before Indigo could blurt something clever. “You should have read the fine print, Gahya. He promised a victory with Cerberus in the lead. He’s dead. You ignored the loophole.”

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