Page 101 of Even Angels fall
It’s fascinating to see how she seems to be impervious to his words.
If I didn’t know how fast she can react when I’m the one trying to get a rise out of her, I would truly believe that she can’t feel anything. But no, it’s just with the man in front of us.
It’s like she is Michaël-proof.
“I did force your hand with the useless, over-sensitive mongrel though,” he adds with his index and thumb holding his chin as if he was trying to make himself look pensive.
“He’s worth ten men like you,” Angélique spits back, and I realize that she’s far from being impervious to the venom her father keeps throwing her way. She’s just used to him insulting her. She can stomach anything when it’s about herself, but she can’t do it when it’s about the people she cares about.
“But your power hungry ass would never know since the only thing that matters to you is domination,” she continues. “Do they know how you speak of them when they’re not defending you?” She asks as she opens her arms and points at the men surrounding us. “Do they know that you only think of them as mindless cannon fodder? Or that you would gladly walk on any of them if it permitted you to stay in power for just one more day? One more minute?”
Some of the guards around us start looking at the people next to them with questions in their eyes, but no one moves.
It’s obvious that Michaël told them in advance that his daughter was a traitor, but it doesn’t change the fact that some of the guards are unsure what to do.
“Aren’t those big words in your mouth, daughter of mine?” Michaël finally asks when Angélique finishes talking. “You’re here with people I don’t think were our enemy after all. Trying to attack your own home, your own father… after I raised you, fed you, took care of you…” he lets his voice trail to underline what he is saying.
That’s when I realize one thing: Michaël has kept secret the fact that he was marrying Angélique off to me and he’s making it look like she purposefully left Versailles and turned her back on her own family.
I grab Angélique’s hand to stop her from talking some more, but all she does is look at our linked hands, and then at me and I only see understanding in her eyes.
She knows it’s useless to reason with her father, or his guards. They’re mostly brainwashed and nothing short of showing them we’re right will make them change their mind.
“What? nothing to add?” Michaël taunts us. “That’s what I thought. Take hold of them. Kill anyone who resists,” he adds before turning his back to us and walking to the side where, I can see now, there is a door to another room.
The coward isn’t even going to fight us.
There is a second of silence before a dagger flies and hits the door Michaël was trying to reach, the strength of the hit closing the door in the process.
“You’ve grown complacent in your training,” Michaël says without turning as he grabs the handle of the door.
“I did not,” Angélique answers as her father tries to open the door without avail.
Without giving him time to react, she runs in his direction and pandemonium starts in the room.
68
Angélique
Iknow all hell broke when I started running toward my father, but I couldn’t care less. Man after man tries to get in my way so that I don’t reach him, so that I don’t attack him.
But they’re nothing. They’re not trained the way I was.
Yes, my father is right; I neglected my training for the past couple of weeks, but that doesn’t make me less efficient.
It might even be the opposite.
For the past eight years, I’ve been isolated and turned into a well-oiled machine, ready to annihilate or destroy anything that was thrown in my way. My only solace was my friendship with Léandre, but this has changed.
Only two weeks were enough for me to see that life could be different, that I could meet more people and grow attached to them.
I might be here on behalf of Léandre, but I’m fighting for all of my new friends, even if Luc stayed in the truck and Cassiopé stayed with Léandre.
I’m fighting with only one dagger; we’re in too close quarters to think about using firearms, but everything passes in a blur. I don’t have time to think about who I’m hitting when my fist comes back bloody or when my dagger plunges into someone’s body. The only thing I know is that cream-colored pants and the light green shirts are no more. I’m covered in blood, and I know it’s mainly from my opponent, even if I’m not trying to kill anyone.
It’s not their fault if they’re idiots who believe in my father. I’ve seen the look in their eyes. I’ve seen the doubt, but it’s easier to believe him than me since I haven’t been in the public eye for a while.
Above the noise of the battle, I hear Elhyor shout at someone to go unlock the power room door. I turn my head in that direction, and of course half a dozen guards are in front of it preventing anyone from approaching even if the smoke emanating from it is getting thicker and thicker.
