Page 88 of Wings of Valor
“Maybe. But it served my purpose flawlessly.” His grin turns absolutely feral. “I’ve worked with the council for ages. Did you really think I’d be dumb enough to show up withoutreinforcements?” Then, as if he’s summoned them by words alone, I see what he means. Demons and angels, all rushing to this very spot. Some flying, others coming through the forest.
There are too many to count, and when they arrive, I’m afraid we’ll lose every chance we have of ending Auriel for good.
36
Ipeer through the scope on the ballista, watching the fight unfold.
There’s not much I can do to help the crowd of fighting allies below—not when they’re all so close to each other. It would be far too easy for me to hit someone on our side. Besides, with the walls of the Fallen district, there are blind spots.
Auriel probably had them built that way.
Still, I can keep an eye on things like I did with Raphael and Theo, or like I’m doing now with my father, using telepathy to pass information along to him. I suppose that counts for something.
So far, I’ve managed to ignore Mira and the other angels sent to protect our position. Not only have I been sidelined with the traitor’s daughter, but they sent us with fucking babysitters.
It’s bullshit.
I spot a few angels trying to get the surprise jump on Dad and pass along a message to him, watching as he and his elite group secure them with ease. One angel slips free, nearly stabbing my father with an angel blade before he winds up paying the ultimate price himself. I can’t imagine it would be easy to kill our own kind, and I know Dad would do everything in his power to avoid it, but it’s not always an option.
There are only a few on our side carrying the deadly weapon. Only those we trust implicitly.
Mira taps on my shoulder, jolting me from my thoughts. I stiffen, not wanting her anywhere near me. Hell, I consider ignoring her completely, but that will only make her tap again. “What?”
“I want to look.”
“Fuck off.”
She doesn’t back down. “Five minutes, that’s all.”
“Fine. But only because I want to check in with the others.” Sighing, I step back. Even though I don’t like it, I can’t pass up the opportunity to make sure Hayliel is okay. She wasn’t with Raphael and Theo, and that makes me nervous.
Searching down the bond, I find them all breathing. Theo and Raph seem to be in less pain than the last time I checked, and Hayliel only feels anxious. Anxiety I can handle. It means they’re still alive.
With my checks complete, I turn, fully intending to tell Mira her time is up, even though I know it hasn’t been five minutes. She’s frowning, her movements frantic as she tracks something through the scope. “What is it?”
I don’t wait for her to respond, instead shoving her out of the way so I can take a look.
“My father.” She barely gets the words out before I see Lieutenant Atlas through the lens.
That piece of fucking shit traitor.
“You,” I say to one of the babysitters. “Help Mira man this weapon. I’ll be right back.”
“But, sir,” the guy squabbles at the same time Mira says, “Fuck no. I’m going with you whether you fucking like it or not.”
She turns to the rest of the angels with us. “Zeke and I need to go handle a traitor. Take over this machine and help us reach victory. We’ll be back when we’re done.”
Mira’s ready to fly, but she takes one last look at her father through the scope. “If we head to the corner of the city, he’ll run right into us.”
I let my wings free, feeling a slight twinge in the muscle around my reattached wing.
“You good?” She looks over my shoulder at the ring of gold that signifies where Hayliel attached it.
I roll my eyes. “I’m perfect.”
We probably shouldn’t be flying, not with so many demons around, but there’s no other way to get from point A to point B. We just have to hope they’re all too busy fighting for their lives to notice.
Staying low, we fly over the small river that runs parallel to the production district. The closer we get to our destination, the more destruction there is. The ground is filled with pieces of rock and brick, and there’s a massive hole where the wall once stood. Through that hole, I see my father. He’s fighting like a pro, slicing and avoiding, stabbing and receding. I’ve always looked up to him for so many reasons—and this is one of them.
