Page 82 of Wings of Strife
Rage and sorrow build inside me like an inferno. It might not be their blood. But if it is … I turn back to the demon stalking toward me, oblivious to everything else around us.
What was it Castiel said? I’m the only one in the way of my power, and I need to accept that I alone am enough.
Closing my eyes, I let those words flow through my limbs, echoing inside my very soul.
I am a true and solid vessel. My parents knew it. My friends know it. And it’s about damn time I know it, too.
When I open my eyes, I sense a chasm of heat growing in my chest. It’s familiar, reminding me of the hot flashes I’ve experienced ever since the shift, but now I know where it’s coming from.
My essence of sunfire.
The demon must sense something in the air because it stalls in its advance.
Is that fear I see lining the ragged edges of its face? Good.
I push every ounce of belief in myself, along with the rage and fear, toward that pool of heat inside me, stoking the fire and forcing it through my limbs. The demon snarls, swiping a powerful claw-tipped hand exactly where I stand. Except, I’m no longer there. As if I can dance on the winds of time, I’m now staring at the leathery wings tucked against its back.
I reach out. Time seems to slow down as the demon turns its head to face me, his features etched in surprise. When the tip of my finger touches the demon in front of me, time stops, just for a moment, and then the demon disintegrates into nothing more than dust.
Air leaves my lungs in big breaths as I finally glance away from the pile of ash in front of me, only to catch sight of all three of my men watching on in fascination.
“You all saw that, right?” Raphael asks, watching me like I just pulled the moon from the sky.
Theo’s laugh is incredulous. “You can teleport. Holy fucking shit. You canteleport!”
His words unlock a memory inside me of that night we nearly died in our quest to confront Roderick. I teleported then too, though I didn’t realize it. But how?
At Zeke’s feet, I notice a familiar patch of dust. “What happened there?” I ask, confused. Did I somehow manage to kill that one, too?
He smiles triumphantly. “I tested out that blade you infused. It wasn’t as instantaneous as your touch appears to be, but it did the job all the same.”
“That was … you’re incredible,” Raph says, unable to look away from me.
“It was,” Theo adds. “I’m glad we knocked that asshole out in time to watch.”
The happiness from basking in their wonder diminishes when I breathe in the scent of iron again and remember what it is we’re doing here.
My parents. The blood.
“Has anyone seen them yet? I don’t want to believe—” A sob escapes me before I can continue further.
“I’ll check your room,” Zeke says, asking the guys to stay with me, but I’m too busy staring at the bloody handprints by the back door to hear how they respond. As much as it kills me to see it, it brings a bit of hope to my chest. At least one of them was alive enough to grab the wall, and right now, with grief and rage sitting heavy on my shoulders, it’s enough.
Zeke comes back, but he doesn’t say anything. All he does is give me a small shake of his head. But I already knew they wouldn’t be down there.
My heart thumps erratically in my chest, yet the new reservoir of heat reminds me that I will find them, and I’ll make whoever thought to take them from me pay for what they’ve done.
The blood is fresh. It has to be given I spoke with my mom through our mental connection not too long ago. Maybe she can tell me where they are now.
“I’m going to—” I begin, but I’m interrupted by a dark, commanding voice that stirs fear in my belly.
“Hayliel Gracelin,” the deep voice booms from outside.
I force saliva down my dry throat, swallowing past the lump of terror.
I’d know that voice anywhere. That dark tenor seemingly fathomless.
The cloaked figure is here.
