Page 57 of Wings of Valor
Two demons rush into the hall. They barely spare us a glance before attacking. As fast as they are, Kirach is faster. He drops to the ground, sliding between the legs of one beast and thrustinghis sunblade up through the demon’s fucking taint, turning him to ash.
The other one doesn’t go down as easily. He’s a brute of a demon, but seven on one is no match. Castiel and Kirach keep him busy with their blows, and when his focus is on them, Mira drives an imbued dagger into his back and twists.
Hot damn. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
We confirm there are no more demons hiding about, then rush to the room at the end of the hall. No sound escapes from behind it, but that doesn’t mean anything. It could just be an empty room.
The door is heavy, but it opens without a sound, and we pile inside.
The scent hits me first, making me gag. Bitter and coppery. Pairs nicely with the blood and dark feathers littered on the floor.
Feathers from a Fallen angel. But that doesn’t mean they’re Zeke’s. It could be anyone who displeased Auriel or the demons. We already know there are Fallen willingly choosing to align themselves with him, so it’s not a far-fetched thought.
A tray of tools sits near the back wall. Kirach kneels to look at the dark object leaning against the frame. It takes me a moment to realize what it is, but when it becomes clearer, I almost puke.
A severed wing. The cartilage is sliced clean, but there are feathers missing in patches all over it. Most likely the ones littered on the floor. Whoever the owner of this wing is, they were tortured first.
“Oh shit,” Darok says. “Is that from your guy?”
I’m going to fucking punch this piece of shit if he doesn’t shut the hell up.
“It might not be his,” Raphael tells Hayliel before tossing a glare Darok’s way.
There’s an unmistakable chill emanating from Kirach, but to my surprise he doesn’t say anything. All he does is strap the amputated wing to his back and stride from the room without a second glance.
Hayliel, Raph, and Mira follow him out, but Castiel and I hang back.
Castiel blocks the door while I lean against the wall. “Listen, man. I get that you’re on the council and the Archangel’s sent you, but you’ve gotta give a little more thought to your words before you speak them. The last thing we need is for things to go south because of your inability to read the room.”
“The Archangels didn’t send me here to make sure your feelings weren’t hurt. They sent me here as an assurance for your well-being.”
Anger boils beneath my skin as I stare at this pompous asshole. We have enough shit on our plates today without him piling it on. Hayliel doesn’t need it, neither does Kirach.
Castiel looks anything but his usual calm and composed self. “Our team had a good enough handle on ourwell-beingwhen those demons attacked in the hall. So good, in fact, that you just stood by and watched. So if you’re going to stay, do your job and keep fucking silent while you do.”
Fucking A, professor. I stride past Castiel and back out into the hallway, finding the rest of our group a few feet away. Raphael looks at me, and I give him a nod. Hopefully, what we said to that fucker sticks, because next time I won’t use words.
“Can we see the blueprints again?” Hayliel asks as I approach. “We’ve lost a bit of time, so I just want to make sure we don’t lose any more.”
I pull the folded paper from my pocket and hand it to her, watching as she finds our spot, then trails her finger along the path we need to take to arrive at the final room we think theymay be holding prisoners. It’s not that the room is far, but it’s on a sublevel we have to get to first.
Castiel arrives as Hayliel folds up the paper and hands it to me. Then Darok runs to us from the room, seemingly out of breath for such a short distance. “I’ve just heard from Team A. The explosives in our suits will go off automatically in thirty minutes. They’ve advised us to place them in every corner and then get the hell out.”
“Excuse me?” Hayliel asks, her tone as cold as the look Kirach delivers Darok.
“Explosives weren’t part of the plan,” Kirach adds.
“Well, plans change. These are our new orders. Any deviation will be considered treason.”
That motherfuck—
Mira’s fist launches straight into Darok’s face, and he crumples to the floor, unconscious. “Holy shit, that felt good.”
“Everyone, check your suits. I don’t see why he’d lie about this, but we need to know what we’re dealing with,” Kirach says, taking charge.
In hidden pockets of our suits, we find three sets of explosives per angel, all flashing green.
Shit. “Everyone take out your slates and start a timer for twenty-five minutes. It seems we’re on more of a time crunch than we initially planned for.”
