Page 64 of Angel Lost

Farrell clears his throat. “The fae are being targeted by the Angel King. They might be allies going forward.”

Kai stops mid-step. The manic energy vanishes. He turns, slow and deliberate, studying Farrell like he’s just seeing him for the first time.

It was a risk, Farrell bringing him here. The Angel King’s nephew. Farrell must believe Kai is allegiance. Must have some faith in the madman.

Then, like flipping a switch, Kai grins and fist-bumps Farrell. Behind him, the rebels seem to breathe again, a few even stepping forward to mutter condolences.

Meanwhile, they still eye me warily. Typical.

Kai doesn’t know Farrell’s little rebellion is the reason the fae are being targeted. Doesn’t know they go out disguised as fae. Not yet. That little nugget is still to come out…

“Let’s go,idiotas.”

We reach the edge of rebel territory and cross over, leaving Farrell’s men behind. I take point. Farrell falls to the back without a word—watching, guarding, commanding. We’re not so different.

The wind picks up, tearing the first leaves of fall from the trees, swirling dust and brittle stems in our path. The kids covered their tracks well, butI’d recognize my sister’s scent anywhere. I swear to Hades, once I find her safe, that girl is going to wish she’d never run.

I inhale deeply, following the faintest thread of familiarity. Walk forward. Nothing. Double back. Nothing. Move left, then right, each step sharper, more frantic.

Her scent just vanishes. Here one second. Gone the next.

I scuff the leaves from the track, crouching low, bringing my face closer to the earth.

“I lost them.” The words taste wrong. I never lose trails.Never.

Did they use a scent blocker? Why here? Why not earlier? I turn in a tight circle, frustration burning through me, then nearly trip over Zephyr.

The angel drifts past, hands hovering over the tree trunks, fingertips brushing the forest floor like he’s plucking at unseen threads.

“What are you doing,puta?”

He doesn’t answer. Just stands there, swaying slightly. A thin thread of drool spills from his slack lips, dripping down his chin.

“Is he high?” I snap.

Farrell scowls as I wave a hand in front of Zephyr’s unseeing eyes. “He’s found some new shit to abuse, hasn’t he?”

Zephyr blinks hard, like he’s shaking off a dream. Then he bends forward, hands braced on his knees, sucking in air like he’s run miles.

“Two adults met them here,” he rasps. “Two angels.”

My snarl rips through the trees as I grab his lapels, yanking him upright. “You better not be making this shit up. What else?”

“N-nothing.” His eyes flick to my hands, still dazed. “Gray robes. No insignia.”

I clench my fists tighter.

“Fucking angels.”

“Hey!” Zephyr bristles, jerking out of my grip like I burned him.

Lorelei wedges between us, palms flat against both our chests. “So you can see the past, Zephyr?”

He exhales sharply, straightening his lapels. “If an object chooses to show me, then sometimes.”

I narrow my eyes. “Clear as mud.”

“So that’s it?” Kai chirps. “Can we go now?”

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