Page 27 of Fallen Angels

“Now is not the time,” he says.

“Then when is the right fucking time?” I demand, glaring at him. “We need to free Morrigan! Her power combined with ours will be enough to allow us all to escape.”

Revenant shakes his head. “I can feel Pyre’s will within me, owing to the mark he left on me,” he starts and pulls up his shirtsleeve. The red sigil that bears Pyre’s signature continues to glow from his skin. “And now is not the time to attempt to free Morrigan. We need to flee this place and regroup.”

“And then?” I demand.

“First, we regroup, then we plan. Meet me at the rear of the palace, where it borders the forest.”

Revenant doesn’t say anything else and the two of us just stand there, glaring at one another for a few more seconds. Then he gives a quick nod to Eilish who tries to smile, but I can tell she’s worried for him. I want to slam my fists into something—namely Revenant’s smug face.

He turns around, heading back towards the doors to Variant’s bedchamber. His zombie soldiers await him at the door. He says something to them and the four of them disappear beyond the door. We hear a ruckus in the halls followed by the vampire’s deep laughter.

Cambion continues to keep watch over the garden from the terrace. “The guards are fleeing the garden,” he announces as he looks over at me. “If we’re going to make our move, we should do so now.”

I nod and approach the terrace. Cambion simply vanishes from sight, reappearing on the grass below. Flumph flies down and the two of them face us with hurried expressions. I grip Eilish’s arm and pull her into me. Anger must still be journeying through my veins because I pull her into me so hard, she yelps.

“Sorry,” I mutter. Then I close my eyes, imagine my shadows swirling around us and deliver us to the ground below.

My boots hit the grass with a quiet thud. Flumph floats over to Eilish’s shoulder, taking roost there, as we carefully navigate the gardens.

CHAPTER SIX

BARON

The Castle in the Sky

I hear the sound of thundering boots behind me as I move at a fast clip with a smile on my face. Perhaps this move was pure foolishness on my part, but I could think of no other way for all of us to escape this place, other than creating a diversion. And as Cambion and Dragan are well-recognized, I was the only one who could create said diversion. No one will be looking for Baron, as he’s believed to be six feet under. Furthermore, I have stealth on my side—I can’t say the same for the ragtag group. Were we all to remain together in our attempts to flee this place, we would stand out like demons in heaven.

With regard to my comment to Dragan about the time not being right to free Morrigan… I was bluffing.

Truth be told, I don’t like the thought of risking our asses for the Midnight Queen. If she’s truly been taken prisoner by Variant, then she wasn’t the all-powerful being we believed her to be. And that means we don’t need her. If, however, she isn’t at the behest of Variant, then attempting to free her would prove to be a wasted venture and one we can ill afford.

With regards to the message from Pyre’s spirits, I don’t put stock in Dragan’s belief he heard voices. Yes, yes, I quoted to him the message thatshadows could not be imprisoned. Then how could Inotbelieve in the voices when I heard the message? The truth of the matter is that I had simply been eavesdropping in Dragan’s mind—an enterprise not wholly difficult as the gargoyle was projecting his emotions as though they were words on a page. I just simply opted to read a line or two.

No, I hadn’t actually heard anything from Pyre’s spirits. Furthermore, I’m of the belief that since Pyre markedmewithhis sigil, and not Dragan, were they real, the spirits would have reached out to me, not to him.

Returning to the subject of Morrigan, I must confess I am quite underwhelmed by the notion of trying to make contact with her. Perhaps I’m merely bitter, but I believe she could have attempted to resuscitate me after I was stabbed by Variant, but she didn’t. As I understand from my spotty memories, Morrigan did nothing to resurrect me during, nor after my untimely death. Instead, she waited one hundred years to bring me be back, depositing me in a rough and ugly world of which I had no understanding. Morrigan had awakened me, had called on me to do her bidding. But that was merely the extent of her instruction and I was forthwith left to my own defenses.

And for what? To protect an angel-demon crossbreed?

“You roused me from the grave, then left me to my own defenses all this time,” I accuse her.

“You must understand the time wasn’t right, my Revenant,” Morrigan responds.

“Then the time is right now?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Then what is my purpose? What was the reason you brought me back from death?” I ask.

“You must protect the angel,” she responds. “She is not what you think she is. She’s the answer to unseating Variant and returning the balance to the realms.”

It was only the second time, in the course of my second life, that Morrigan spoke to me.

I shake off the memories because they cause me distress.

The sacred leader of the realms can keel over and die for all I care.

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