Page 131 of Even Angels fall
two: nothing is wrong with his wing and he healed perfectly;
three: all hell broke loose while we fought and there is not a square meter on theparvisthat isn’t covered with blood or body parts.
Sweat beads at my temple when I raise my head to face Michaël. He’s hovering over me, in full control of his wings, and pierces mine one after the other.
It sounded like the right idea to piss him off, to have them out, to taunt him with them, but now I’m starting to regret my decision.
I know how to fight, alright, but I should have taken into account the dead weight at my back, because as long as I don’t know how to use them properly, they’re a dead weight.
I’m starting to tire; I fumble under their weight and finally decide to retract them.
I might be the sloppy one in the end.
“I could do that all day,” he taunts from above as I parry a hit that would have definitely hurt my shoulder.
Obviously, he can do that all day; now that he’s not on the ground anymore, it looks like he’s using his whole body in a different way and my only way to fight is to defend myself. Even if I jump, I’m not going to be able to reach him because he’ll fly away, so it feels like he’s just waiting for me to tire.
I know I’m not going to hold my own for too long and yet I’m still fighting despite the fact my body is starting to function on fumes.
Where the hell is Elhyor?
I know it’s been more than an hour since he left. It’s longer than what we agreed, and I’m starting to lose hope.
Just when the thought crosses my mind, a huge roar resonates from across the bridge that leads to thequartier Saint Michel—the quarter of Saint Michel.That roar is followed by a mess of yells and screams for violence.
I don’t turn my head in the direction of the noise. I know Elhyor is coming. The extra noise is surprising, but I can’t let it pull my focus from Michaël.
I was taught better than that.
But it seems some people have grown complacent because I see Michaël flinch, and his eyes dart in the direction people are coming from. It lasts less than a second, but it’s all I need.
I jump, grab Michaël by his ankles, and pin him to the ground with my daggers.
The shock of what I just did registers in Michaël’s eyes before it turns into fury.
I jump out of his way and bellow to the sky, “NOW” and arrows rain on him. Remember those tearing arrows?
That is what is hitting him and forcing him to the ground, and I won’t lie—I’m looking at them, tearing at the skin and the feathers of his wings, with unabashed glee.
Am I an asshole?Maybe. But I don’t care. He deserves it.
“This is over,” I tell him. “I’m not your pawn anymore. No one will ever be your pawn anymore.”
I can see the pain on his contorted face. It’s obviously not because of my words, but I’m still satisfied.
He gives me a hard glare, but doesn’t answer me. I think it’s because he’s mad at being bested and because he knows I won’t let him survive, but I’m mistaken. I realize my mistake when I see him reach for his pocket.
With bloody fingers he reaches for his holo. In my luck, it doesn’t turn on because it doesn’t recognize his fingers because of all the blood.
I freeze.
I know what he is trying to do.
