Page 2 of Wings of Strife
He only shrugs. “I was just trying to buy more time. She’s not long for this world.”
Beside me, Raphael and Theo share a look before turning their pained gazes on me. Fuck, I wish Azrael was the one who showed up today. He’d understand how delicate our situation is and wouldn’t make shitty remarks like that. At leasthehas angel skills.
Instead of leaving, Atlas continues talking. “You’re all very lucky to be alive. Someone caught sight of the battle en route to their shift. If they hadn’t, it’s likely you’d have all ended up in a similar state.” He nods to Hayliel’s prone form. “Anyway, I sent guild members after the demons that fled. I will do everything in my power to ensure they don’t get away with this. You have my word.”
“Thanks,” I say, though the expression is only a formality. I might have heard his words, but their meaning hasn’t sunk in. Raphael and Theo are ignoring the lieutenant. He’s completely unharmed from battle, and if we only have so long with our girl, I’d rather spend every last second reassuring her just how much she meant to us.
The healer makes a weird sound, drawing my attention. Her face holds a mixture of confusion and shock that traps the breath in my lungs. I follow her line of sight and notice the blood has stopped flowing around the wound on Hayliel’s side. Fear stabs at my heart. If she’s not bleeding, does that mean …
No. She can’t be dead. We need more time.
I shift my hand to her wrist, hesitating for a second before I press my fingers to her pulse point.
It can’t be.
Her pulse is steady and strong. But how is that possible?
My eyes lock with the healer’s, who has Hayliel’s other wrist in her hand, likely noticing the same thing as me. With the flow of blood stopped, the healer places her hands over the wound to close it. Golden light flashes from between her fingers, but that’s not what any healing I’ve ever seen looks like.
Hayliel’s face has more color than before. She looks almost healthy, if I ignore the blood and blade. Her right eyebrow twitches once, then twice.
Without thinking, I yank the blade from her shoulder.
“What the fuck did you just do?” Raphael says in horror, but his bitching is cut off by something magical.
The gaping hole where the dagger used to be blazes with hues of golden light before slowly stitching itself back together.
She’s healing, I say through the connection with Raphael and Theo, but they’re already watching. Every wound on her body glows. Some are faint, while the more grievous wounds shine bright enough to blind. Still, we don’t look away.
When the golden beams fade, she looks completely unharmed.
“Sunshine?” Raphael whispers, and we all just stare at her. Seconds turn into minutes until the hope I once had begins to fade.
Physical contact. Maybe that’s what she needs to come back to us. Taking both her hands in mine, I squeeze. “Come back to us, hummingbird,” I say, my voice rougher than intended.
“Please, firefly,” Theo adds, his own wobbling slightly.
Then, as if she could hear us between the realm of the living and the dead, her eyes flash open and she jolts upward on a massive inhale.
Alive.
2
The sun is blinding, burning my retinas and making me squint, but something stops my hands from coming up to shade my eyes.
I look down to find them held hostage by powerful, warm hands. Zeke’s hands. On my other side is a strange woman I don’t know. One of her bloody hands covers her mouth as she stares at me in open disbelief.
What the fuck is going on?
My mouth is dry and caked with more dust than anyone should taste in their lifetime. There are no trees around us, only barren, sunbaked dirt. How did I get here?
Theo pulls me into his arms and Raphael piles in too, wrapping the two of us up tight. I’m exhausted, so I let myselfsink into their comforting embrace. I’m not sure why they’re acting like this, but I can’t say I hate it.
A gust of wind rushes against my overheated skin, soothing some of my discomfort.
“Thank the Archangels you’re alright, sunshine,” Raphael says, pressing a kiss to my head. His words don’t make any sense. Of course I’m alright. I’m with them. How could I not be?
When they finally pull back, I glance toward the woman in the guild uniform, then to Zeke. Standing just behind him is a frowning angel I don’t recognize. A lieutenant, with metal-tipped wings, but he doesn’t have the thick brown hair I recall Azrael having. This must have been who I saw earlier during the fight.
