Page 33 of Wings of Torment
Her fingers lift and fall, one at a time, over the top of the lever until a few drops of water hit my knees. Instead of keeping the button pressed down, she’s only holding it for a second eachtime before letting go. More water falls onto me, and I can tell she knows because of the triumphant squeal of delight.
Then I hit something on the back of the boat and it jolts me forward. “Hey!” a gruff voice says from behind me. Two more boats slam into the side of me simultaneously, these driven by young angels who have zero intent to back off.
“Get him!” Hayliel shouts, careening for me with her jets hitting me in the chest. And at her command, the two boys press down their own buttons and spray me, too.
I’m helpless to do anything but sputter and laugh. There’s no denying that I’ve been bested. It’s clearly evident by my wet clothes.
The ride operator blows a whistle, signaling that it’s time for us to head back and let someone else out for a ride. It’s only then that the two young angels cease fire, choosing instead to race back to the makeshift dock.
“No hard feelings?” Hayliel asks, her tone worried, like maybe she actually thinks I’ll be mad at her for our little game of fun.
“It’s only a little water. I’ll dry off in no time.”
“Good. It’s nice to see you’re not a sore loser.” There’s a twinkle in her eye that brings a pang to my chest.
Hayliel is goodness personified. She’s a blazing fire in a sea of shadows, keeping the dark at bay. If others could only see her for what she is instead of what they want her to be, maybe she’d believe Raph and me when we tell her how amazing she is. Maybe she’d trust that she’s not the bad angel everyone wants her to be. But until then, until the moment she believes it herself, we’ll be right there with her, battling the darkness and stoking her flames.
We make it off the boats without trouble, though I couldn’t leave without giving her one last spray as she was getting out. Not that I meant to hit her quite so solidly, but I can’t denyI enjoyed it. The soft curls that once surrounded her face are heavy with water and stuck to her skin.
On impulse, I reach up to brush the strands away, intending to pull back the moment I’m done, but I can’t. Her skin is magnetic, drawing me in like a force field. My gaze travels down her cheek, her neck, until it rests in the same place my hand is. On her collarbone.
I’ve never noticed this part on an angel before, but now, staring at the delicate curve of her bone where it leads to the soft flesh of her neck, all I want to do is bend low and place my mouth there. When she doesn’t pull away, I wonder if maybe her thoughts are leading to the same spot mine are. And maybe, if I leaned in close and pressed a gentle kiss against her skin, she’d let me.
Before I can do anything, a cold shot of water hits us both as a kid spins in his boat with the water jets on full blast. Probably for the best, anyway. I know Raphael said we could share if she was willing, but we need to talk about it more. I’d be an asshole if I made a move the moment we were left alone together.
“There you guys are! And I see Theo even managed to get you all wet, didn’t he, little sunshine? Nice job,” Raphael says, grin growing wide.
Hayliel laughs in a surprised kind of way, like she can’t believe he just said that, but when she looks at me, her eyes are ablaze with what I can only assume is lust.
We move on through the carnival, passing more food vendors and games, following the flow of traffic toward whatever the angels are gathering for.
“What’s going on?” Hayliel asks, raising up on her toes in an attempt to see over the crowd.
It’s fucking adorable.
“There’s a race through the obstacle course. Winner gets to visit the Archangels’ Sanctuary and have a meal with them.”
Beside us is a large group of angels that look so much alike they have to be family. Despite the crowd and the sounds of the carnival, their conversation is unmistakable.
“I understand you don’t want to race, but this isn’t about you, Asmodel. This is about our family honor. We need you to win this. For us.”
I share a look with Raphael and Hayliel, who look just as disgusted as I am. Raphael would know just how close that conversation is to my grandparents, but Hayliel wouldn’t. She doesn’t know much about my life at home, how my parents died and my grandparents took care of me. Or, at least, their version of it. The older generation of angels live by different rules, and I stopped trying to gain their approval a long time ago.
The crowd grows thicker around us as angels head in to watch the show. It’s suffocating the way they pile in, shoulder-checking their way to the front without a care in the world. I send Raphael a look that I know he deciphers. This could turn into a riot, and we’ll be stuck in the middle.
With a calm smile on his face that I know isn’t genuine, he says, “Look. Why don’t we head over there?” He points to a large tent a little ways away. No one enters or exits, they’re just passing by on their way toward us and the race.
“Yes please,” Hayliel says, her eyes wary.
Raphael grabs both of our hands, tugging us toward the tent, and we only have to stop twice to get out of the way of some overzealous idiot before we’re free of the crowd.
“This is madness,” she says, watching the invigorated angels. “All of this to eat with the Archangels … but why?”
“You’d be surprised the lengths angels go to earn favor,” I tell her, voice solemn.
“This way!” Raph whispers from where he stands just inside the flap of the tent.
“Where is he …”
