Page 35 of Fallen Angels

Cambion stands over me with my shirt in his hand. He dips it into a hollowed-out piece of tree trunk he’s magicked into abowl. In the bowl is enchanted water that’s been given healing powers. As to whether the water will have any effect on my wound…? Who’s to say?

He runs the shirt over my torso, dripping the water over my wound in his attempt to clean it. It burns like all the fucking demons of hell. A slew of uncultured words drifts from my lips as I bare my fangs at the elf. Cambion, of course, ignores me with the same impassiveness that he ignores everyone.

I’ve mastered a similar cold indifference.

Regardless, I’m about to punch his skull into powder if he doesn’t stop touching me. I try to push him away, but my arms won’t move. The fucker must have cast a spell to keep me still. “Okay, enough,” I snarl as Cambion smears a poultice over the deep wound on my arm.

“I’m the only one keeping the bloody thing from becoming infected,” he spits back at me.

“At this point, I’d fucking rather die.”

“Well, lucky for you, you’re immortal and can’t die,” Cambion responds in that familiar teacher speaking down to a student tone of his that makes everyone want to take his head off.

Where the fuck is Pyre?I wonder.

“I don’t have anything to sew you up with, so binds will have to do,” Cambion announces.

“Binds? What binds?” I insist. I hate anyone fussing over me. It’s irritating and it’s even more irritating that it’s Cambion. At least if it were Eilish, I could hope to get a peek at her cleavage or her shapely ass.

“Whatever clothing we can spare,” Cambion responds as he turns to look at the rest of our group. “That means start donating.”

Dragan grumbles something unintelligible but strips off his black tunic and tosses it at Cambion. Flumph lifts his shirt as well, but the gargoyle stays his hand. “No one wants to see that.”

“Well, fuck you too, big fuckin’ ape!” the sprite says as he flies over to Eilish. She grips the hemline of her long, satin gown and rips it past the slit that ends at her knees. She rips it upward until we’re all endowed with the sight of her milky thighs. Then she rips the fabric sideways, thus making her long gown short. Noticeably short, in fact.

Her hands tremble slightly as she hands the fabric to Cambion, who makes it quite obvious he’s trying to avoid looking at her long, toned legs. If not for the intense pain and weakness I feel, I would toss her to the ground and fiercely satisfy her every need.

Cambion shakes his head as though he can read my thoughts. He drops the donated fabric to the side, before selecting the satin from Eilish’s gown and ripping it into a four-inch piece. Then he rips a piece of Dragan’s shirt and soaks it in the water bowl. He wrings the shirt out and wraps it around my arm, carefully tying it into a knobby knot at my side. He covers the material with the strip of Eilish’s dress and then uses the remaining satin for one more go-around.

The elf stands and then looks down at me before he nods, satisfied with his work. I want to snap at him, to tell him this act of kindness doesn’t redeem the fact that he got us captured by our enemy, but I don’t. For some reason, I sympathize with Cambion.

Each and every one of us has at least one act of pure stupidity tainting our pasts. Acts that remind us not to fuck up again. If not for trusting the Midnight Queen, I would never have allowed myself to be betrayed. As far as I’m concerned, Morrigan guided us through the oath and we followed obediently, claimingthe thrones and our powers without question. The balance was restored, yes, but at what cost?

The more time I’ve had to think about it, the more I’ve realized our chief mistake was that unquestioning loyalty we placed in Morrigan. It was my own stupid trust that got me, er Baron, killed.

And I will never trust anyone again.

Everyone is capable of betrayal.

CHAPTER EIGHT

BARON

The Forest in the Sky

I feel something—a slight hitch in the energy of the forest. I roll into a fighting crouch, before I forget my injury and simply collapse against the ground. I look up to see Pyre standing just out of sight. He’s slightly hidden between two immense oak trees, maybe twenty feet into the distance.

He reveals himself slowly, looking over at Dragan for a moment and I notice the gargoyle’s stiff.

“It is time you left this place,” Pyre says, looking at each of us in turn.

He raises his hands and chants in a voice too deep to be natural. The trees shrink from his power as energy crackles in the air and emerge as lightning. Bright green light tears open the veil between this land and the next. The portal appears as a circle, the perimeter comprised of various colors of light. The circle floats in the air, perhaps four feet off the ground, and within it, we can see the landscape of another location. Pyre bids us to step through.

Dragan glances back at Eilish, where she stands near me. Meanwhile, Flumph and Cambion enter the circle and disappear. Eilish hesitates.

“Eilish,” Dragan says as he bids her to approach him.

“I want to make sure Revenant,” she starts as she glances back at me. Her eyes are wide pools of concern. They incite something deep within me that’s both resentful and angry. I don’t want her pity nor her concern.

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