Page 47 of Wings of Strife
“What happened to your mom is a tragedy. I know it doesn’t even come close to comparing, but she’s always with you. In here.” She presses her hand to my chest, right above my heart. “And even though I never got to meet her, I think she’d be proud of the man you’ve become.”
Her words hit me like a sucker punch. Mom would hate how I’ve treated Hayliel. She wouldn’t be proud of me for that. But maybe, if I keep making amends and continue to do better with this incredible angel in front of me, someday Mom will be.
Electricity sparks beneath my skin where Hayliel’s hand rests on my chest. The energy in the room builds until it feels like a living, breathing entity, and all I want to do is pull her into me and show her just how much I care for her. But fear of rejection and a worry that I’ll fuck things up when we’refinallymaking progress has me pulling back. She’s with Raphael and Theo, and despite what Theo said to me about sharing, I’m trying fucking hard to respect them.
I think I’ve caught a flash of disappointment on her face, but before I can study it for too long, it’s gone. Probably for the best.
“Come on. Let me show you the workshop.”
She follows me across the empty house without a word, watching as I pull a key from my pocket and unlock the workshop door. When she steps inside, she gasps.
“You weren’t kidding,” she says, looking around. “This place is perfect for experimenting with my sunfire!”
Finally, it feels like I can bring something to the table that the other assholes can’t. And yeah, I probably shouldn’t keep calling them assholes, but sometimes I can be a bitter, jealous piece of shit. Sue me.
“There’s the small forge Dad uses, though he hasn’t had much time for it lately. And beside that is his hammer and anvil where he makes the steel sing.”
“It must be fascinating to watch.” She sounds intrigued.
“It is. Maybe he’ll let us both watch sometime.” I regret the words as soon as they’re out of my mouth. It’s not that I don’t want her to meet Dad or spend as much time here as possible, but it’s just not realistic. And truthfully, I’m not sure that I could handle her here all the time and not get hopeful for more.
She smiles, looking like she wants to say something, but I change the subject. “There’s a foundry there where he can melt down metal and mold it into something else. That’s how I made my first dagger. It was pretty much the ugliest thing ever, but Iwas proud to carry it around with me because I made it with my own two hands.”
“Do you still have it?”
“No.” I don’t elaborate. After Mom died, I was inconsolable. It didn’t help that Dad shut himself off from everyone, including me, and it felt like I’d be alone forever. I spent most of my time in the woods, chucking that dagger at a tree and wishing it was the demons who took Mom from me. I lost it out there somewhere and haven’t seen it since.
It shouldn’t be so hard to share that with her, but the words get stuck in my throat.
Moving on, I say, “Dad polishes the items he makes at that table over there, and this one he uses for filing, bending, and whatever else he needs the space for.”
She spreads her hands over the metal table top, stopping at the unused leg vise. “Zeke, this place is cool as hell. What kind of things does he make down here?”
I hesitate for a moment, but decide to open up to her. “Not much these days, but over the years since Mom died, he’s tried to figure out how to make his own sunblades. Unsuccessful, of course, especially now that we know exactly how they’re made, but he tried all the same.”
At my words, Hayliel straightens her spine and looks at me with sheer determination. “If I can learn how to make them, I’ll supply him and the guild with as many as they need to take down the demons hunting our city. And if I can help avenge your mother, I will.”
The truth of her words is a tangible thing. How could I have been so wrong about this angel? I thought she was just like all the other girls I’ve met. Fickle and selfish. But she doesn’t carry an ounce of those traits.
“Thank you,” I tell her, my voice not as strong as I’d like, but if she notices, she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she justwalks around the room, picking up tongs and other items with curiosity.
While I watch her, I can’t help but think about how glad I am to have kept her from Dad and Azrael. If Uriel knows she survived an angel blade, it’s because someone at the guild told him. As much as I want to trust them, I’m beginning to doubt that anyone at that damn place is trustworthy. And if Uriel is connected to whoever the mole is at the guild, then things are dire indeed. Now more than ever, we need to find out who it is so we can stop playing catch up and start making moves.
I grab a small dagger from a rack in the corner and hand it to Hayliel. “We’ll start small. When you’re ready, I want you to try imbuing this with sunfire.”
Her breath shakes when she lets out a sigh. “I’m nervous,” she whispers.
“This is a judgment free zone. If it works, great. If it doesn’t, we’ll pivot and try again. Zero pressure here,” I tell her.
“Just the fate of the entire city,” she grumbles, but I pretend not to have heard.
A few minutes pass by in silence. Nothing happens, and I can tell Hayliel is getting frustrated already. “Talk me through what happened the first time you summoned it. What were you thinking? Feeling? Explain it to me. Maybe we can find something to use.”
She nods, eyes trained on the wall behind me as she relives that moment in her mind. “I was scared. Terrified, actually. I knew the little cocoon I’d made with my wings wouldn’t protect me from an entire horde. But then I heard your voice, and the voices of the others, and suddenly I wasn’t as afraid. I was pissed. Anger like I’ve never experienced before overwhelmed me at the thought that those assholes were going to hurt you guys.”
I tap my finger on my lip, taking in her words. “It sounds like deep emotions, the fear and anger for your friends and loved ones, is what brought it on that time. If you’re up for it—and it’s okay if you’re not. This won’t be easy—but if you are, close your eyes and bring forth that same anger or fear. See if it helps grasp the sunfire within you.”
Listening to me, she closes her eyes, holding the small dagger just in front of her chest, and I can’t look away from her beauty. She struggles when the emotions don’t appear right away, her brow creasing with her mounting frustration.
