Chapter 12

The four fallen moved as a well-oiled unit, spreading around me so I had to keep moving, circling them. I took note that two wore short swords at their thick waists. Their hooves and splayed toes scratched across the tarmac as we circled around one another. They were each over ten feet tall and their reach with their blackened, thick leathery skin was solidly in that range.

"Head shots?" Dinah asked hopefully.

"Yes." I lifted her, aiming her at the one closest to me. I squeezed the trigger and the bullet shot out, glimmering through the air.

We hit the fallen between the eyes and he stumbled back, expression one of stunned incompetence.

He went to his knees and started screaming, scrabbling at his face with his multiple arms.

"Good enough." I swung and shot the next two rounds, nailing all but one between the eyes.

"That's it," Dinah said. "I had only three shots."

Three down, one left. That improved my odds.

"Dinah, you see what I see?" I pointed at the waist of the one I'd shot first. He writhed on the ground, his screams pitching higher and higher.

"Girl can never have too many swords," she snarled. "I mean, obviously I prefer guns, but I think you're right."

I aimed her at the fallen closest to me, right at his waist, and squeezed the trigger. Dinah's aim perfected mine and we hit the middle of the belt buckle, snapping it in half. The belt slid from his waist and the short sword and sheath hit the ground.

"You cannot hurt us with your measly weapons," the last of them said. His face was twisted like melted wax, eyes halfway down one side of his face, mouth halfway up the other.

I laughed at him, "Really? Doesn't look like that to me." I tucked Dinah in her sheath and ran for the sword. The fallen on my right took a swing at me with an open, long-fingered, claw-tipped hand, and I dove. My fingers wrapped around the hilt of the sword as I turned my dive into a somersault. I rolled and was on the outside of the four fallen. The one still standing seemed surprised. And then the first of them stood up, slower, but standing as liquid poured from the wound.

I supposed not many of them were fought with—they just grabbed hold of their victims and flew away.

"Sloppy, boys." I yanked the sword clear of the sheath and swung at the fallen closest to me, aiming for his shoulder. I'd gladly take them apart piece by piece.

The sword dug into the leathery hide and the fallen shrieked, scrambling and flailing. And shot up into the sky, with me still hanging from the handle of the sword.

"Well fuck." I didn't let go of the weapon that was obviously causing all the pain. He spun, flinging my legs out wide through the air. Below us the other three fallen rose into the air. Fuck, they were just going to fly off with me hanging onto the goddamn sword.

"Dinah, any ideas?"

"Don't fall," she said.

Gripping the handle tight, I snapped my legs toward the fallen's body and pushed off. We were thirty feet up. High, but not too bad. If I was going to fall, this was the time.

The sword yanked free and cut the arm the rest of the way off as I back flipped away from him. One of the others shot toward me. The bullets had slowed them, but that was it.

"He's gonna catch you!" Dinah started laughing, and if I'd had the time I would have laughed with her.

I swung the sword over my head and slammed it through the clavicle of the fallen that was swooping up to grab me.

The melted face looked up at me, horror flickering through it as the sword began to hum under my hands. Like . . . a bomb?

My sudden weight, the sword, and gravity pulled me and my new friend down toward the ground. Not as fast now. Ten feet up I let go, the vibrations in the sword handle freaking me out.

I landed in a crouch and looked up in time to see the fallen's body explode, the shrapnel of bone and sword pieces shooting through the air. I ducked, covered my head and pieces shot across my arm, cutting me open.

Dinah yelped. "Ah, he got me, boss!" I slapped a hand over her, feeling a piece of metal that hadn't been there before stuck in her barrel. I yanked it out. The chunk was solid, almost as big as a dagger.

I stood and turned as the two healthy fallen stared me down. "Can't leave till Gardreel comes, huh?"

"How is she killing us?" the left one said to the right one. "I thought it was not possible unless . . ."

They both looked at me and I stared right back. "What? Unless I'm what? Born from a fallen hunter?"

Their eyes flickered. "More than that. You are more than just born from a fallen hunter. She is one portion of the issue. Your grandfather is obviously the other."

I didn't give a rat's ass about my father, grandfather or otherwise. If what I had from him was keeping these assholes wary, then halle-fucking-lujah. Praise the gods and all that shit.

They did not land. The pieces of their friend were splattered all around us, and the remaining injured fallen flew away with a limping gait in the air. Good enough for me.

"Did we just beat them?" Dinah whimpered. I touched the divot in her barrel.

"Yeah, for now."

My ears finally caught up and the sound of the helicopters lifting off was enough for me to spin and run toward the closest one to me. The one that had Killian in it.

And apparently, I was not the only one making a last run for it.

Fred and Cowboy booked it across the shitty tarmac with another abnormal pushing them along, waving their arms, a few cops trying to follow them.

They hopped into the helicopter furthest from me.

Good enough. I turned on the speed and as the helicopter got to my head height, I leapt up and caught hold of the landing tracks. Clinging to the cold steel, I pulled myself up inch by inch, and then hands were hauling me in through the open door.

"Thanks," I acknowledged the help, but turned away to watch the fallen. They hadn't moved.

What was their purpose? To see what I could do?

Or to actually capture me?

They dropped to the ground as I stared, and shuffled toward the truck that we'd left the handler's body in. I motioned for a headset and was handed one. "Easter in here?" My voice came through with some static.

"Yup." She stepped up beside me, her own headset on.

"Diego has that rocket launcher." I still had some of the angel dust. I motioned for her, and she tipped his muzzle toward me. I poured the rest of it in. "Now would be a good time."

Even with the angel dust, I wasn't sure it would do much damage, but maybe it would slow them down. And I realized that was all we were trying to do. Slow the shit down that was sliding toward us. And hope we could outrun it long enough to give us all a chance.

Easter spread her legs for balance and behind her, Pete grabbed her belt. I steadied her side as she sighted down Diego's barrel and squeezed the trigger.

The kickback was good, but she had it. The rocket flew in a tight spiral, sparkling all the way. The explosion of the truck was solid, and it threw the remaining fallen back a good fifty feet, the sound tearing at my ears and giving me a good blowback of heat even this far up. The helicopter pilot adjusted, and we didn't take any damage. The last thing I saw was a black hole in the tarmac where the truck had been. Whatever was left of Easter's handler—I refused to call her Easter's mother—would be incinerated. Maybe it would make it harder for Gardreel to draw her back in.

I looked at Easter hard as Ruby tucked her head under my hanging hand. I could see the handler's features clearly in Easter's. She never needed to know that her mother was the one who'd tortured her, the one who'd broken her mind for the sake of what was essentially a madman's rantings.

"You sure about going to Death Valley?" Easter's voice crackled over the radio.

I wasn't sure, not entirely. "Head west, we'll find something."

Making my way through the crush of people, I found Killian sort of propped up in a corner. His eyes were not open, his chest rose and fell, but he was clearly still not with us. I looked at the woman who sat next to him, her pale blond hair brushed up into a high ponytail. She glanced up at me and I didn't bother to speak to her. She didn't have a headset on.

Instead, I motioned for her to move.

Her face hardened, closing off. As if that would keep me from being next to him. I grabbed her by the arm and bodily yanked her out of my spot, then slid in next to Killian, propping him against my shoulder. Ruby sat in front of us, pressed against our legs, which meant I could hear her rumbling growl.

The woman was intent on having Killian, was she?

I looked over at her and considered that maybe he'd replaced me. It wouldn't be unreasonable, not with two kids and a damn plague of the fallen to outrun.

Her blue-green eyes locked on mine, and I winked at her. Fuck her if that was the case. Not my problem, he was mine first and nobody took what was mine.

I closed my eyes, trusting Ruby, reached up and pulled off the headset. I needed to go back into that space, that limbo where I'd seen him.

Ipos was there. But why hadn't he healed Killian?

Because there was something within that place that held a power that I didn't have anywhere else, and if I was going to help him that was where I'd do it.

I sunk into the sound of the rotors filling my head, creating a white noise that blocked out everything else, every shuffle of every filthy body crammed in this space.

The water was there, the raging river, and I paused at the edge of it.

Paused and did a slow turn to see someone unexpected behind me.

Her tattered wings spread wide, and the edge of her lips crinkled. The long white braid was still over one shoulder. Was she dead? I didn't think so.

"Little Phoenix. You are looking for a place to hide?" My grandmother cackled. "A respite before the next fight?"

She tucked her wings in tight to her body as she strolled closer.

I didn't move. I wasn't sure if I should be afraid of her, but in close proximity I could snap her arm and get behind her if I had to. "You know a place?"

"Of course I do. I had to hide myself from time to time. Head to the Grand Canyon. At the juncture of the rivers there is a place that Gardreel will never look." She tipped her hand left and right, like a boat on the water. "And your man. What will you do with him? He's about dead."

My jaw ticked. "I know. Ipos—"

She laughed. "Ipos? That's the one that's crawled into him?" She put her hands on her hips. "Could be worse, I guess. He has knowledge. Use him."

I wanted to look away and yet I couldn't. Something about this woman who claimed to be my grandmother—and I'll be honest, there was a connection I could not deny—made me squirm. As if she could look into me, the way my mother had been able.

"Ipos—"

"Cannot heal him. He's clever. He knows you can heal that man of yours, and then he gets a fully functioning body." Her eyebrows lifted.

Fucking hell. I'd been duped by a goddamn demon.

I lifted my eyebrows right back as if I wasn't furious. "I don't know how to help Killian," I said. "So he will die if Ipos can't heal him."

Her wings rippled with irritation as she waved a hand at me. "Bah, you have it in you. Child, you are part angel, even if there is darkness too, and angels—even the fallen ones—can do what others cannot. Especially for those they are tied to. Your Easter, the Magelore, your children, your man. You can save them when death would take them."

Hope, dangerous and sly, slid through me. "How?"

"That fire of yours should do it." She paused. "A word of advice. Don't give up on your brother yet. He might surprise you."

"I disagree with that last," I said, feeling strangely melancholy. "He is siding with Gardreel."

"Perhaps." She tipped her head side to side. "Perhaps."

"Anything else you want to help me out with?" I asked.

She lifted a wing and brushed the tips of it across my cheek. "It's a journey you're on. It won't be easy to bring all of what you need together. Trust your gut, firebird." Her laugh was soft. I wasn't sure that I liked she was backing up what Ipos had said. Shit, she'd even used the same nickname he had. "Only the world depends on you."

I didn't know if I should thank her, or curse at her, so instead I nodded and pulled myself out of the fog. If I could heal Killian, what would it take? My fire? His lightning? Some combination of both?

Dinah was jiggling away in her holster strapped to my chest, but there was no way I'd be able to hear her. I put my two fingers to Killian's neck. Slower, his heartbeat was slower still, but he was alive.

Which meant I had time.

I slipped the headset back on in time to hear Mario raging.

"If we go where the informant told us to go, then we'll be fucking screwed!"

"Hold tight," I spoke into the mic. "I agree with you, Mario." I didn't want him to have a place that was safe, not when Gardreel was using him.

There was no intake of breath and yet I could easily see him in my mind, breathing hard, worked up over the fact that if we did what was expected, we'd be trapped.

"We're still going to head that direction," I said. "Carlos and the other Hiders will keep us out of sight of the humans and fallen alike. Here and there we will leave a clue, so they know we are still headed west. But we have a different destination."

I kept a hand on Killian's chest. "And we need to land for fuel."

Of course, I didn't mean for fuel, but they didn't have to know that. I would take the chance while the birds were down to try this healing gig with Killian. And if it didn't work . . . then he would be left behind.

No matter how much it killed me.