Page 35 of Angel Lost

We reach a pair of huge metal gates set in yet more white stone. The arch of the gateway must be three stories high. At least. I squint up. Do they all wear sunglasses? A smile tugs at the corner of my lips as I picture priests all adorned in white with massive black shades.

Kai reaches past me and yanks on a rope. I crane my neck back as a chime rings out from the largest bell I have ever seen.

“Couldn’t just have a buzzer like normal people?” I mutter, shaking my head as the vibration finally dies away to nothing.

The corner of Kai’s mouth twitches. He stiffens, standing straighter, his grip tightening again. Through the gate, a trio of hooded priests walk smartly toward us, two in gray robes and the final one all in white.

Only a few feet from the gate they halt, bowing low to Kai, who inclines his head slightly. The white-robed priest mutters a few words, and the giant gate creaks open. I watch, my heart in my mouth. It’s like a horror movie, except far, far brighter. That almost makes it worse.

The three priests glide forward as one. Kai brushes his thumb over the soft skin of my inner arm one last time, then shoves me at the priests. I stumble.

“Interested to see how this one compares,” he barks. “Keep me updated. I might watch the final test. She’s my source at the moment. Try not to let her kill herself.”

The priests incline their heads, not once uttering a sound. With that, Kai steps back and the gate shuts with a clang of finality. Shit. He’s not coming. He’s got to keep up appearances. That’s it, right? I didn’t imagine him trying to soothe me. The decorations on his collar don’t mean anything. But…he’s the stepson of the king’s sister. He’s a prince. Everything is about appearances. I chew the inside of my cheek and eye the priests.

Without a word they glide back along the path toward the turreted buildings of the Sanctoria. When I don’t immediately follow, the smallest of the three halts and glances over his shoulder. Under the hood I glimpse big bushy eyebrows and a face full of wrinkles. An intricate tattoo winds down his neck under his robe.

A mage, not an angel. Interesting.

Something oddly familiar sparkles in his eyes. He beckons, crooking one finger, then moves quickly after the others.

The hall is plain. Far plainer than I’d expected. At various points there are enclaves and stained glass depicting the goddesses, the Fates, and hundreds of minor deities. My gaze skips to the front, where the priests stand around a small fountain.

“Proceed, child, quickly,” the mage commands.

Child? I’m twenty. I stomp forward, my black combat boots scuffing the white floor. The head priest, the one in white, glares at the marks.

They pull their hoods down. One mage and two angels. I study each of them in turn. The pale, almost translucent skin of the two angels, along with their hard eyes and downturned mouths, does not give me a good feeling. My gut is screaming to get out.

“Lorelei Bal,” the mage says, his tone gruff but not unkind. “Interesting that we meet again.”

I stiffen. It can’t be. The only time I’ve met a mage before…

“I oversaw your awakening,” he continues, and my jaw drops. “You didn’t show as an aether then. But then, from memory, neither were you a demon-vampire cross.”

He peers closer.

“I…uh…”

“Spit it out, girl. We have testing to do,” the priest in white snaps.

“My magic was suppressed. Overprotective parent figure.” It’s kinda true.

The mage frowns. Please don’t let him remember I was an orphan. He sticks his tongue into his cheek, his back to the others, before grunting. “Makes sense. Right, let’s begin.”

Shit. Already? I tug cautiously on the slave bond. Almost instantly the dark, oppressive presence inside my head grows, expands. My vision blurs, tiny lights dancing in front of my eyes, and my power rushes from me, commandeered by the boys.

“Are you quite well, Miss Bal?” the angel in gray asks, his tone bored.

“I’m fine, just…on my period.” He flinches like I said something dirty. “How long until His Majesty arrives?”

The priest snorts. “Oh no, girl. His Majesty won’t personally be here for the preliminary tests. You start now.” He clicks his fingers and a small hada scurries forward, clapping bands of a dark crystal on both my wrists. “To prevent you using other elements, and to measure your aether,” he offers by way of explanation.

The bands sit cool against my sweaty skin, and I’m aware of a nasty, gnawing emptiness inside me. Without my other elements, and the boys pulling my aether, I’m seriously weak, stumbling as I follow the impatient angels behind a dark shroud of a curtain and into an antechamber.

Technology is everywhere. Giant screens dominate one wall, and cameras track my every move. In the center of the room, a pedestal holds a small electronic device—waiting. I’m ordered to complete the test in thirty minutes.

Silently, I cross the room, the priests’ eyes drilling into my back. The moment my foot brushes the plinth, a klaxon blares and a luminous purple timer flares to life, floating in the air, counting down the seconds I have left.

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