Page 13 of Wings of Death

Wings swoop above, and I jump as Finlay lands before me.

“Can we stop this shit for a second?” he says. “Don’t get me wrong. I am enjoying it, but shouldn’t we actually have each other’s backs? I am willing to call a truce if you are.”

Without thinking, I smack my fist into his face, and he stumbles back, grabbing his nose as blood drips from both nostrils.

“What the fuck, Zarla?”

Satisfaction courses through me and I brush my hands down the front of my robes. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did that hurt?”

He presses his lips together, his breathing heavy. “I get it. I shouldn’t have hit you earlier. Payback, right?”

“Something like that. Now leave.” I step around him and climb the steps to the porch.

I could make you pay for that. Shall I call upon my father?

I squeeze my eyes shut, taking a deep breath before I face him once more.Seriously? You’re going to play the daddy card again?

He laughs, clapping his hands together. “Damn, Zarla. When did you get so feisty? I like it.”

I open my mouth to reply when an angel lands behind Finlay in the yard about thirty feet away. And then another, and another. Watchers.

“Zarla, get back to Silanthia,” Finlay instructs as he pulls a sword from his belt.

My heart pounds as I assess the situation. Why are they here? Watchers are powerful and deadly angels from the Kingdom of Galespo, put on Earth to watch over guardians, seconds, and archangels, and to ensure we follow the ancient angel laws. What are they doinghere?

“State your purpose for this visit,” Finlay says, and I am thankful one of us knows what to do.

I reach for my daggers and hurry to his side. The watchers are all enormous males wearing black leathers and black hooded cloaks. The one in front is clearly in charge. He glares at us through dark eyes, his translucent wings dotted with the golden markings of the watchers, glowing in the darkness.

Fuck, Zarla. I told you to leave.

I’m not going anywhere. It’s my job to protect Kyle.

“Drop your weapons, and we will let you both live.” An unfamiliar accent laces his voice, and it’s rough, like he’s smoked ten packs of cigarettes a day for the last thirty years. Maybe he has.

I tighten my grip on my mother’s daggers, feeling their warmth.

“No,” Finlay says. “State your visit.”

The watcher in front smirks at us, his rotten teeth showing. “Zarla Quinn, the King of Silanthia’s daughter,” he says with piqued interest.

I panic.What do we do?

Shit, I don’t know. This doesn’t feel right. They shouldn’t be here.

And then the watcher charges forward, unsheathing his sword and bringing it down toward Finlay. Finlay unsheathes his own sword, swinging it up, and they clash together, the sound of metal on metal echoing through the still country air. I shuffle back as one watcher moves around him toward the house. What the hell?

And then I see the other heading for me. His eyes flicker down to my daggers and back to my face several times. I narrow my eyes at him as he moves closer, holding my daggers up in defence. He charges at me, and I spin out of the way, slicing his arm as I do. He doesn’t even flinch and charges once more. I duck down, sending a firm kick to his thigh, and he stumbles back. His expression hardens, and he grits his teeth.

“Give me the daggers, and I will let you live,” he warns.

Ignoring him, I rush forward and leap into the air, but before I can land my kick, he grabs my ankle and swings me around, sending me flying into the ground, where I land hard on my side. I wince as he approaches me. The other watcher is almost at the house now.

“Hey!” I shout, but he ignores me.

I think back to my training. Finlay is busy fighting the big one. He can’t help me. I have to stop them. I release my wings and surge forward, and then plunge my dagger into the watcher’s chest, moving so fast he doesn’t see me coming. His soul slowly drains from his body as he stares at me through wide eyes. I remove my dagger, and he falls face-first onto the lawn.

My hands are shaking and covered in blood. I have never killed anyone before, and my stomach turns at what I just had to do. I refocus my attention on the other watcher, who is moving up the porch steps. Don’t be sick, just focus. Kyle. I need to protect Kyle. I swoop up into the air and then come down fast, kicking the watcher in the head. He falls back and rolls down theporch steps and I land in front of him, blocking him from the house. I brace myself as he removes his sword.

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