Page 17 of Wings of Strife
Friends.A bark of laughter threatens to escape, but I hold it back. If someone told me a year ago that I’d become actual friends with Pure angels, I’d have called them a liar. But now, even knowing Raphael and Theo’s wing color, I don’t think of them as Pures. They’re just angels. Friends. Ish. Friends-ish.
The happiness drains from my face when the cabinet door won’t open. I try again, pulling harder, but it doesn’t budge. What the fuck?
There’s a black rectangular scanner. Shit. These are locked. I must have missed it earlier when Azrael used his card. My own card hangs heavy against my hip, begging me to scan it and see if it will get me what I need. I pull it up and—
“If you’re hoping to take something from there, you’re going to need a lieutenant’s key card.”
I whirl around to find Lieutenant Atlas’s daughter leaning against the wall, watching. The girl who’s already seen far more than I’d have liked. How the hell did she get in here without me knowing, and why the fuck is she poking her nose where it doesn’t belong?
Ignoring her words, I change the subject and hope it’s enough to derail her. “I haven’t seen your father today, so no, I don’t know where he is.”
“That’s a pity. He could have helped you get into those cabinets.” She steps closer, looking entirely out of place in a loose-fitting black pantsuit with her wine-colored hair slicked back.
I roll my eyes. “I’m not—”
“Tell me what you need and maybe I can help.”
Ugh. This angel is really starting to get on my nerves. What the hell is she even doing here, snooping around when she’s not even a guild member? It’s not like she can get into the cabinets herself.
“Or,” she adds before I can respond, “you can keep silent and leave here empty-handed. The choice is yours, Ezekiel.”
The lump in my throat grows, but I swallow past it, anyway. I forgot she knew my name. What are the chances this same damn angel keeps finding me doing shit I shouldn’t be doing? Though I suppose she never ratted me out after our last run-in, so maybe I can at least trust her to keep her mouth shut. Besides, it’s not like I can get into the cabinets myself. Whatever I tell her is all just words.
I take a deep breath, unsure that I’m making the right decision. “I need six amulets and one of those pouches.”
“See? That wasn’t so hard.” She waltzes past me to the cabinet with the mysterious pouches. From her pocket she pulls out akeycard, swiping it against the scanner and grabbing one of the bags.
She tosses it to me without a second thought, and I rush to catch it. The way Azrael talked about this shit, I don’t trust what’s inside not to explode if it hits the ground.
When I’m certain I’ve got the thing secured, I ask, “Whose card is that?”
“Oh, this?” she waves it around, stalking toward the cabinets with the amulets. “It’s my dear old dad’s.”
I freeze. She’s using Lieutenant Atlas’s card? Dread settles in my gut at the same time that fear ignites in my veins. Does he know she has it? Will this lead back to him somehow? What the fuck had he been thinking to trust her, a non-guild member, in the first place? But even as the thoughts cross my mind, I know what I’d been thinking. There are angels counting on me to acquire these items, angels I care about. This wholefriendsthing is really messing with my head.
She turns, ignoring the look of horror on my face, and passes me the amulets. I’m putting them into my bag when I notice there aren’t six here, there’s seven. “You grabbed one too many.”
“No, I didn’t.” She takes the extra amulet from my grasp. “This one is for me. I gave you a pass last time I caught you creeping about where you shouldn’t be, but I hate being kept in the dark. This time I want in. Whatever you’re doing must be dangerous, or else you wouldn’t need this shit. And I just so happen to thrive in dangerous situations.”
“Fuck no,” I try, but she just keeps talking.
“When can I meet the lucky recipients of those amulets?”
I don’t answer, unsure what to say. How the fuck do I even end up in these awful situations? I could push back, but that has risks, and what we’re doing is far too important to fuck up. Telling her has its own risks, but she’s already kept one of mysecrets. What’s one more? I just have to hope the others see it the same way.
She sighs loudly, clearly done with my indecisive ass. “Look, I might notwantto threaten you, but I will. Let me—”
I throw my hands up in the air in defeat. “Archangels’ balls! Fine. If it’ll shut you up. We’re meeting on campus at SCU this weekend. I’ll let you know the details once they’re finalized.”
It almost feels like a betrayal. My friends and I have spent the better part of a week finding a secure place for us to meet, and we finally found one. We’re doing everything we can to ward and protect the secret location, and I’m about to put everything on the line to avoid an even greater risk. How has my life come to this?
I throw the bag, filled with stolen items, on my back and turn to leave before she realizes we haven’t exchanged numbers, but I don’t get very far.
She clucks her tongue. “A for effort, Ezekiel. Give me your slate.”
It was worth a shot.
Reluctantly I pass it to her, though she doesn’t seem to notice. She taps away before passing it back to me. Not only has she added her contact info under the name Mira, but she’s also messaged herself from my slate.Great.
