Page 64 of Frosted Torment

Lex released me as Nakoma emerged from around the corner, carrying another duffle bag full of weapons. He had the long silver bow he used against Jax earlier draped over his shoulder.

“You’re pretty good with that thing,” I admitted as he stopped in front of me to hand Jossy the duffel bag.

“This is Lulu.” Nakoma swung the bow around to the front and caressed its sleek silver limb. “You were informed about angel wings. This beauty here allows me to pin them down.”

He brought the bow to his soft brown lips, placing a kiss on her, then winked at me. I watched his fingers glide over the bow with precision as he adjusted the grip and tested its pull.

“Pin the wings.” I repeated his words back to him, my face painted in horror. “Then do you bury them once they die?”

Nakoma closed his eyes and sighed before staring right into mine. “The dark angels are different, Noa. Some of them get buried, but most of them aren’t.”

My brows pinched together. “What do you do with them?” I asked.

Jossy passed a cylinder-shaped quiver to Nakoma, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange. Nakoma nodded, pulling out a single arrow before handing back the container.

“They’re used for the betterment of science,” Nakoma admitted as he inspected the arrow’s shaft.

A jolt of recognition ran through me. My gaze found Father O’Neil, remembering Ena’s words about a priest. He now highlighted different parts of the map, then went back to scribbling in his journal. I’d never known of such a combination for career choices; then again, I wasn’t sure how many priests knew about the angels.

Nakoma continued, “O’Neil and I created the arrows from the ground-up bones of the dark angels.”

Jossy patted my arm and lightly touched the tip of the arrow Nakoma held. “It’s a good thing to grind up their bones. Trust me. Because the darker we go, the stronger the bones become.”

“Gross,” I muttered with a shiver that ran across my skin.

My body tensed with unsettling thoughts as Nakoma handed Jossy the arrow. Instinctively, I shoved my hands into my pockets for comfort. What would keep a fallen angel from going completely dark?

Maybe finding someone to spend their life with, like Jossy had with Nakoma. Was it all about hope, or was it something else? Jossy pressed a minuscule lever at the base of the arrowhead. My eyes grew wider as three more blades sprang forth from its center, adding to the already daunting display of torture tactics.

“We still have our powers, and those can’t be taken away,”Jossy pointed out. “So if one of us turns dark, things become amplified.”

He handed the arrow to me, and I carefully removed my hands from my pockets to hold it. I inspected each side with its unusual etchings adorning every inch of the shaft’s surface. They reminded me of the ones on my bracelet.

I handed Jossy the arrow, asking, “Are the dark angels stronger than regular fallen ones?”

Jossy and Nakoma glanced at one another, then Nakoma turned to me with a sigh.

“Somewhat,” Nakoma stated. “The black magic of demons enhances their powers.”

“Which makes their bones great arrows,” Jossy added as he filled Nakoma’s quiver with more arrows.

“And what about Lulu? What is she made out of?” I inquired further.

“She,” Nakoma lifted Lulu, lining his fingers on the grip, “was crafted from an ancient Kauri tree long before the Church gifted her to me.”

Then, in one swift motion, he drew back the string with his right hand and anchored it against his cheek. Setting his middle finger at the corner of his mouth, he closed his left eye and pretended to shoot at a target.

I imagined him shooting arrows into Vincent and Vallen. And the moment he did, I’d have them both. I’d cut out their fake angel hearts and torch them while I sawed off their wings. Then I’d mount and display them on the walls of my living room like works of art.

I shut my eyes, imagining my plan when Jossy walked by andgrasped my wrist. “Why haven’t I seen this before?” he questioned while twirling my bracelet between his fingers.

“O’Neil!” Jossy yelled. “Come over here and take a look at this.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked as my heartbeat grew in my ears. “It was my mom’s. Besides, Lex saw it, and he didn’t think anything of it.”

O’Neil gave a weary rub of his eyes before pushing his glasses back into place on the bridge of his nose, leaning in for a closer look at the bracelet. “Ah, yes. I don’t know where he got it, but Vincent gave it to Sasha after your mother was born.”

“It looks like someone made this in a kindergarten pottery class,” I remarked, eyeing the bracelet with cynicism.

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