Page 55 of Wings of Strife
“If Briathos will be there, just be careful. We don’t know who we can trust at the guild yet, though I don’t think he’s the mole.” Shifting his gaze to mine, Zeke says, “For what it’s worth, I think you should go with Raphael.”
My eyes widen in shock despite my best efforts to remain unaffected. Since when does he think I should spend more time with my “Pure boyfriends”?
“Pick your jaw up off the floor. It’s not that shocking,” Zeke teases, seeming even more out of character. “If Theo and Castiel are busy, and I’m stuck at the guild, I’d rather know you’re someplace safer than on campus.”
“Dina would be more than happy to keep me company,” I argue, though I don’t know why. I want to go with Raphael, so why the hell am I doing this? Ugh. Zeke’s attitude change has thrown everything out of whack.
She grimaces. “I would, but Dad wants me home. I leave Thursday after classes finish.”
“Then I’ll go with Raph, but not because I’m a weakling who needs protection. Because I want to.” I squeeze Raph’s hand. “And I want updates the moment you have them,” I tell Theo and Castiel in my most no-nonsense voice.
“We all know you aren’t a weakling, sunshine. But we’d feel better knowing you’re with one of us and appreciate that you’re willing to follow along. I’m really glad you’ll be coming home with me.” Raph touches my cheek, thumb brushing over my skin, and all I can do is nod.
Regardless of how awkward or troublesome this meeting might be for me, knowing it’s going to help him is all I need to feel good about it.
24
It’s late, but I can’t sleep.
My mind whirls with impossible scenarios and outcomes. So many things have happened lately that I can’t seem to shut my thoughts off. It doesn’t help that sometimes, when I close my eyes, I see that scarred demon again, his taunting voice ringing in my head.
With a huff, I toss the blankets off and get out of bed. There’s no point lying around when I could be doing something useful. I dress quickly, stashing the books I’ll need and my slate in a bag, then head downstairs to the Fallen library to work on a project for history class. We’re supposed to write a report on an angel of our choosing.
Castiel would probably hate to know that I’m working on it in the middle of the night, especially now that he knows everything else going on, but it’s that or drive myself wild trying to sleep.
I don’t run into a single soul on my trek down the stairs, and the library is blissfully empty. Being alone used to make me uncomfortable. Insignificant and invisible. But other than the friends I trust, I’d rather be alone than surrounded by angels plotting against me, or onlookers waiting to switch loyalties depending on how the wind blows.
Setting my things down on one of the empty tables, I get comfortable. When Castiel first gave us this project, I struggled to decide which angel to write about. Then it hit me, and I couldn’t imagine a better angel. I ended up calling Esther from the photo parlor to ask if she’d mind if I wrote about her grandmother.
She’d been thrilled that I thought of her. So thrilled that the very next day she delivered an old family tome that held a ton of neat information. Each story kept me captivated, enough that I’d honestly probably read through them even without a project.
Despite the late hour, it doesn’t take long before her grandmother’s epic stories have me hooked. I’m so invested that it takes a moment longer than usual to notice the creepy feeling causing the hair on the back of my neck to rise. A faint scuffling comes from beyond the library doors, but I don’t see any light to announce the presence of someone else. Maybe it’s only another student grabbing a midnight snack?
I listen for a few more minutes, but the sound doesn’t come again. This building might be modern and well built, but it’s still fairly old. It could be anything.
I fall back into the story, this one about Esther’s grandmother and her innate control over her angelic powers. She’d been known amongst her family to assist all new members in developing their powers. Honestly, her thought process is quitefascinating, enough that I pause my reading to take notes on my slate. Maybe her methods could help me get a better handle on not only the sunfire I’m supposed to be able to wield at will, but also the weather manipulation we’re learning.
I don’t get far before that scuffling sound is back, but this time it’s followed by a steady tapping.
The longer I listen, the louder it gets, until my pulse thrums beneath my skin and I can’t shake the feeling that I need to leave.
Now.
I don’t waste any time packing up my things, tossing everything into my small bag and scurrying toward the window. Someone whispers from beyond the library doors as I’m climbing out into the cool night air.
Before I manage to fully close the window, the library door opens.
Two students enter the room, followed by a masked figure built like a brick shit house. The students I recognize from our brief altercation near the beach. Fallen.
With the mask on, I can’t work out who the other figure is, but something tells me I’ve never met them before. Their presence alone makes my heart beat frantically. From the build, I’d guess it’s a man, but whether it’s an angel or something else entirely, I don’t know. They’re tall and imposing, covered head to toe in black clothes.
The trio look around the room, searching, but for what?
Something tells me they’re looking for me.
Pressing my back into the wall beside the window, I keep still. I know I should run, should move, and get the fuck away from here, but if I stay, maybe I can learn what these fuckers want.
In a voice so deep, it’s as if it came from the very night itself, it says, “I thought you said she was here?” Without needing to see with my own eyes, I know this comes from the masked being. Something about the energy has me on high alert.
