Page 105 of Even Angels fall
I turn very slowly, so the asshole now at my back doesn’t make a hole in my body. I would like to stay alive.Thank you very much.
It’s like Elhyor was waiting on me because as soon as I’m facing him I hear him say, “Now.” It’s barely above a whisper, but the bat-shifters all around the corridor don’t need more. Inan instant, the men disappear and piles of clothes scatter around where they used to be, and bats appear, all flying away.
I launch myself to the ground and stay as flat as I can without moving.
And maybe my foot rips to the back and breaks the knee of the asshole who was holding a gun to my back—it’s pure coincidence.
Maybe.
I’m about to hit the man in the face when he bends to grab his knee when there is a loud noise. Like thunder.
The air grows hot—hotter than what the smoke had managed so far—and then there’s another noise that sounds like something very heavy has hit a wall.
When I turn my eyes in the direction that it came from, I can see that it’s notsomething,butsomeone.
And that someone is my husband in all his glorious, scaly form.
And glorious he is.
At first sight, I think black is the only color he is made of, but as I look closer, I can see there is a silver sheen to his scales that reminds me of his blond-white hair.
He takes up the width of the corridor and that’s with his wings tucked against his side. His head is bent under the ceiling and the last thing I see is him tucking his head back before the ceiling erupts in flame.
Before I can react or think, I see Elhyor take two of his fallen men in the claws of one paw and the other coming my way.
I jump to the side and throw on my shoulders the only other of his men still on the ground. He grunts at the impact and even if he’s heavy as fuck—and I too would very much like to grunt—I’m glad to hear he’s still alive.
The next second I’m holding onto Elhyor’s claws like my life depends on it—and it might very well—and he takes flight through the ceiling, surrounded by bats.
71
Elhyor
Did I just destroy a historic monument? Yes.
Should I care? Also yes. This building is a thousand years old, and it had survived until now, so yes, I should care.
But do I really care? No.
No, because we’re out and even if they shift, birds can’t outfly bats and even less a dragon.
Do I want to go back and burn the castle to the ground? Yes. Definitely.
But am I going to do it? No. If Brice and my men are somewhere in this castle, I don’t want to take the risk of burning everything and them at the same time.
We need to regroup and plan.
We need to find a way to get my friends back, but we can’t do it the way we are now. It would be suicide.
I know Brice and the others are resilient. If they’re still alive, they’ll survive whatever Michaël and his goons throw at them.
It’s going to be hard, I know it, but we’ll get them out.
I just have to hope Luc escaped before Michaël trapped us inside.
The kid knows to go back to Notre Dame if anything happens, and we’re going to need him and his brain to study all the documents on Angélique’s media key if we want to find where all my men are.
I beat my wings faster to avoid the bullets from the firearms Michaël’s men have started to use as soon as I took flight; It’s not for myself—they feel like mosquito bites in that form—but I don’t want Sam, Eric, Gaspard and Angélique getting hit by any of those while I’m carrying them.
