Page 30 of Wings of Torment
There’s irritation in his gaze, which doesn’t really surprise me, but it pisses me off. Particularly when I see the way Hayliel stiffens at his presence. I don’t know their history, but it’s clear to anyone with a pair of eyes thatsomethingwent down between them. Why else would his cool indifference bother her so much? Whatever it is, neither one seems ready to let go.
I’m not sure how much more of this I can take, but I keep my mouth shut for now, not wanting to ruin the last few days I have with her before the break.
“Theo, can I speak with you?” Other than a quick glance in Hayliel’s direction, he barely acknowledges her.
My agitation grows, but I try to tamp it down.Don’t be an ass and make a scene. Not here.It works, though I’m half tempted to tell him to fuck off, but his request has my curiosity piqued. There’s no hiding the fact that Ezekiel dislikes me, so something has to be up for him to seek me out.
I follow him for a few paces, leaving Hayliel behind with a rather pissed off Raphael.Have restraint, Raph.
“Are you heading home for the break or staying on campus?”
That’s odd. Why the hell would he be worried about where I’ll be over break, and how is that important enough to seek me out? I consider asking him just that but choose not to, keeping my reply simple. “Staying on campus.”
Ezekiel nods, darting a look over my shoulder that has me wondering if maybe he’ll ask me what Hayliel’s plans are.
“I’m guessing she told you about the classified information I found at the Guild?”
“She did.”
“Good.” He releases a sigh, like maybe he doesn’t actually want to be here asking for my help, but it’s not like I’m forcing him to. When he continues, I still don’t fully understand.
“I acquired a few old texts from my father’s study and hoped you would help me go through them over the break. Some of them even relate to the wing color search I know you’re helping Hayliel with.”
Huh?“And you need my help, specifically?”
Zeke folds his arms across his chest, somehow appearing both bored and like he wants to hightail it out of here. “It would appear that way. Unfortunately for us, Professor Uriel was of little help in learning more about a particular passage I found in one of the texts, but he thought that you, of all angels, could help.”
What the hell? As if I’d know more than a university professor. What is this slimy angel up to?
I keep those thoughts to myself, though, not wanting to give all my cards away to Ezekiel. Maybe some good can come from this after all.
“I thought it was weird too,” he says when I don’t respond. “But he seems to think that your Knowledge house residency and proximity to a certain golden-winged angel will prove useful.”
“Hmm. Was the passage about golden wings?”
“Not specifically, no.”
Curious. Professor Uriel has been a thorn in Hayliel’s side since her very first day of classes. Mix that with the weird way he acted after the attack, and I have a hard time believing in his motives. I’d be a fool to let that stand in the way, though. But is getting access to these texts worth spending time with an angel that grimaces every time they see me? It may not be comfortable, but it’ll at least give me the opportunity to be alone with him, where maybe I can get him to cut the bullshit act of indifference with Hayliel.
“I can’t promise we’ll find anything, but I’ll help you.”
Ezekiel nods. “Duty calls, but I’ll be in touch.” Then without a single word to Hayliel, he disappears, but not before I catch the long look he sends her way.
As I walk back to share the news with Raphael and Hayliel, I can’t stop my mind from churning. This plan with Ezekiel could end horribly. Maybe he’ll wind up hating me more after we’re done. Maybe he’s working with Professor Uriel, and it’s a weird trap that I don’t see coming. But there’s a small chance that maybe, if I can manage it, he’ll stop his posturing and Hayliel will finally find some peace.
The park is set up with tents and stalls hosting food vendors, carnival games, and even some recruitment areas for the Guild. Is this what Ezekiel meant by duty calls? For Hayliel’s sake, I hope not. If he’s here, glaring daggers at her from across the park, she won’t have any fun. Thankfully, I haven’t seen him yet.
What I do see, though, isn’t all that different from the last time we were here. Popcorn litters the grass and angels walk around eating tacos in a bag while their children wear sticky outlines around their toothy grins as they devour candy apples. There’selectricity in the air this time, though, and it’s not just caused by the complete and total sexual tension between Hayliel, Raphael and me like it was that day.
The Archangels’ Feast is a week-long holiday to celebrate the Archangels and their salvation. While it doesn’t technically start until next week, families can still give their offerings of thanks to the Archangels early. Somewhere in the park is an altar where angels can leave gifts or say a prayer, but the more prominent families choose to make the trek up to the base of the mountain to show their respect. I know because it’s something my grandparents have done every year since before my parents died.
This year I’ll get to avoid the ass-kissing. It’s not that I have anything against the Archangels, but it’s all just show. Before they overthrew God, he was celebrated. And I’m sure someone will eventually take down the Archangels and then whoever claims that victory will be next. It’s meaningless.
Hayliel leads us to a stall selling hot apple cider, and she buys each of us a cup. It’s hot in my hands and I’m immediately overwhelmed by the scent of cinnamon and sweet, crisp apples.
While we drink, we walk around and take in the sights. In the distance, boats float on the pond, and off to the side of that is some sort of ride that keeps your wings inside but flings you through the air on a cord. I shudder at the thought. Who would want to be trapped like that, unable to save yourself from goingsplatif something goes wrong? Based on the long line of angels waiting for their turn, far more than I would have guessed.
“Whoa,” Hayliel whispers as we approach an angel-made alley lined with all sorts of games and prizes. Raphael grabs her hand and leads her toward the first stall with pillars and rings, and we watch as a kid throws his last ring, but it bounces off and falls to the floor. Then he starts to cry. We move on down the line, passing by some with bouncy balls and buckets, or a pyramid ofcans and bean bags. Each stall has various prizes secured along the outer frame, tempting passersby to try their luck.
