Page 74 of Wings of Death

“You too,” he says.

Several watchers approach us, and I raise my hands and draw my powers. But it won’t work. It’s as if I’m still depleted.

I grab my daggers while the first two watchers rush me. Two more watchers attack Kyle, catching him off guard, and he isn’t able to use his powers in time.

I force my attention to my own battle as a tall watcher with thick arms hits me across the face.

“Not her face!” Finlay growls from somewhere behind them. “She is to be taken unharmed.”

I wipe my lip on the back of my hand and a familiar metallic taste forms in my mouth. Charging forward, I leap into the air and plant a firm kick to his chest, sending him flying back into the ground. The other watcher advances on me, cracking his knuckles as he glares at me, his eyes filled with pure hatred. He removes his hood, revealing a strikingly handsome face.

What is it with all these good-looking watchers?

I duck out of the way when he swings at me. So much for taking me unharmed.

I slice my dagger across his waist, and he grabs my wrist, yanking me toward him. He pulls the dagger from my hand and tosses it onto the grass, and I use my other one to stab him in the chest. He releases me, and I pull my dagger free as he drops to the ground.

My focus shifts to Kyle and find he’s handling himself well, having already taken down three watchers himself and is now fighting three more.

Two more watchers advance on me, circling as they look for an in. One is notably larger than the other.

I try to summon my powers, but it’s no use. I’m all out of juice. I grip my dagger tighter and charge forward, and then I kick my way up the chest of the larger one and flip in the air before landing on the smaller watcher’s back.

He reaches up to grab me, but I plunge my dagger into his neck. Using his enormous hand, he attempts to stop the bleeding, but it’s no use. He falls to his knees, which throws me off, and he face-plants into the ground. I release my wings to catch my fall and realise my mistake when I find the other watcher waiting for me.

He takes hold of my wing and yanks me to the ground. I scream. Pain cuts through my wing as I lay on the cool grass shaking.

Time seems to slow when another watcher knocks Kyle to the ground while the other kicks him. I scream for them to stop, but they don’t.

Finlay approaches me, and I back up. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to fly at this point.

I don’t have my daggers, and my powers are useless.

“You are strong, Zarla,” he states before crouching down to my level. “Kyle isn’t good enough for you. He is nothing. They will deal with him.”

The blood drains from my face when his words sink in. My heart hammers at the thought of losing him.

He reaches down and tucks my hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on the edge of my jaw. “You’re so beautiful.”

I shrug his hand off my face, and he smirks. My focus drops to his waist when he pulls a sword from his holster. I crease my brows as I stare at the ancient-looking blade. It’s long, made from some sort of steel I’ve never seen before. Intricate angels detail the handle all the way from the base to the top, with vibrant blue gemstones embedded amongst the angels. I can sense this blade is powerful.

He holds the sword near my head, and I tense as he starts speaking in another language. He’s summoning some sort of magic.

I back up a little farther, scanning the yard for Kyle and find him lying motionless across the yard. There are only three watchers left now, and they’re standing over Kyle with their swords drawn.

My eyes dart between Kyle and Finlay, trying desperately to think of a way out of this.

“Shit!” Finlay says, and I can see that whatever he’s trying to do with the sword isn’t working.

And then something strange happens.

Something is building inside me, and I realise it’s my powers regenerating. I glance at the sword, somehow knowing that it’s responsible, and my wing no longer hurts. I’ve healed myself. Seeing an opening, I leap to my feet, drawing my power into my palms before I blast Finlay. He drops the sword as he flies across the yard and lands hard on his back.

“Zarla…”The sword is calling to me.

I frown. How is that possible?

I snap out of my haze when a watcher grabs me around my waist.

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