Page 129 of Forging Darkness

What have I done?

Chapter Forty-Two

Idon’t know why I feel compelled to talk to Silver, but I can’t get it out of my head. It’s been two days since I blasted her with enough angel-fire to burn whatever remnants of the Fallen were left in her. She’s been questioned multiple times by the Council and is being kept under lock and key.

She refuses to see Steel, but has spent time with Greyson and Sterling, who came back from their visits saying she seemed withdrawn and stoic—a far cry from the older sister they remember from their childhood or even the snarky Forsaken she once was. Eloise and Laurent have hardly left her side, but the youngest set of twins haven’t been to see her yet.

Word of her transformation was supposed to be kept hidden, but from the unabashed stares of the angel-born at the compound, it’s clear the news leaked. Just this morning a woman stopped me in the halls and shoved pictures of her daughter in front of my face, begging me to turn her back into a Nephilim. I mumbled apologies and condolences and fled as soon as I could.

I don’t regret what I did for Silver, but I should have thought through the consequences of my actions beforehand. If word continues to spread, Nephilim from around the globe will want their loved ones restored to them. I don’t fault them for that, but I still don’t know enough about what actually happened with Steel and Silver to know if it’s something I can do over and over again. I used angel-fire against so many other Forsaken in the arena at Whitehold, and they had all burnt to ash.

You realize, this changes everything.

When I finally had the time alone to ask Steel about his experience as a Forsaken, he didn’t have the answers I was looking for. When Legion took control of Steel’s body, his awareness had been pushed into darkness. He admitted he couldn’t remember much.

My working hypothesis is that I can only help Forsaken who’ve retained some of their autonomy after the merge, but I need more information about how often that actually happens. Which means I need to talk to Silver.

I tiptoe down the corridor. The chilled stone beneath my feet makes me wish I’d thrown on some sandals. The winter in Egypt is nowhere near the frigid temperatures of Colorado or Canada, but the air still carries a snap of cold, especially at night.

I was focused more on staying quiet than my attire when I snuck out of the room I share with Ash. The Council won’t let anyone but themselves and family see Silver—something I’m more than a bit peeved about—so nighttime is my best chance to slip in and see her. Ash would never turn me in, but I want her to have plausible deniability if I get caught.

I come to a corner and press my back to the wall to peer around the edge. When I see the coast is clear, I resume my hurried shuffles. The compound never fully shuts down. Activity occurs around-the-clock, which helps my plans this evening. No one is going to think too much of me padding through the guest suite hallway at night. But surveillance is twenty-four hours a day and I’d rather not run into anyone. My cover story, in case I get stopped, is that I’m looking for food.

Up ahead, Silver’s door comes into view. It’s easy to identify because there’s a giant Nephilim standing in front of it. Dressed in fatigues, his beefy arms are crossed over his chest as he stands with his feet shoulder-width apart. He has a wicked curved sword hanging at his hip and guns holstered under each arm. As I approach, his whole persona screams “Don’t even try because if you do I’ll rip your arms from their sockets and use them to beat you to death.”

My throat dries when I stop in front of him. He looks down his nose at me. I’m no shrinking wallflower, but I hesitate. This guy might have a clean foot of height on me.

My grand plan is to talk my way past this giant. If that doesn’t work, I’m going to have to knock him out and drag his body into the supply closet down the hall. Thorne showed me some pretty effective ways to put someone temporarily down, a few of which he even tried out on me. I didn’t enjoy those experiences. I hope it doesn’t come to that, but this door is the only way in or out of the rooms beyond. I already checked the exterior of the rectangular visitors’ dorm, and the windows into Silver’s rooms are sealed.

The Council has her locked up tightly in their own version of a gilded cage. I can’t imagine she’s taking it any better than I did.

“So . . .” I begin. “Malachi sent me to check on Silver.”

Lie. Big, fat lie.

The guard takes me in from top to bottom, his eyebrow lifting when he gets to my bare feet. I’m in leggings and an oversized t-shirt, but lack of shoes when conducting official business is kinda weird. Total rookie mistake right there.

“Is that so?” he drawls.

“Yes,” I say and then clear my throat. “They’re worried about some of the effects after the procedure I performed on her. You know, the one that turned her from a Forsaken back into a Nephilim.” I wait a beat, hoping to spot a spark of interest, but go on when he remains a statue. “I need to phase into the spirit realm to check her aura.”

That sounds convincing-ish. Admittedly, lying isn’t my forte. I’m much better at fleeing and hiding, but I dug deep for that performance and think I kind of nailed it.

“I don’t think so. Move along.”

I wrinkle my nose, annoyed. “Listen, I need to have a little chat with her, okay? You can let me in, or I’m going to let myself in.”

He immediately pulls his sword from its sheath.

Oh, shoot.

I stumble back a step just as the door flies open.

“What’s going on?” Eloise peeks around the body blocking her view and sees me. “Emberly, what are you doing here?”

The first tingles of a headache start. I bring my hand to my temple to rub the spot, my shoulders slumping. I could have taken the large Neph—maybe—but there’s no way I’m going to try to knock out Steel’s mom.

“I need to talk to Silver.”

---