2. Hayliel

2

T he sun is blinding, burning my retinas and making me squint, but something stops my hands from coming up to shade my eyes.

I look down to find them held hostage by powerful, warm hands. Zeke’s hands. On my other side is a strange woman I don’t know. One of her bloody hands covers her mouth as she stares at me in open disbelief.

What the fuck is going on?

My mouth is dry and caked with more dust than anyone should taste in their lifetime. There are no trees around us, only barren, sunbaked dirt. How did I get here?

Theo pulls me into his arms and Raphael piles in too, wrapping the two of us up tight. I’m exhausted, so I let myself sink into their comforting embrace. I’m not sure why they’re acting like this, but I can’t say I hate it.

A gust of wind rushes against my overheated skin, soothing some of my discomfort.

“Thank the Archangels you’re alright, sunshine,” Raphael says, pressing a kiss to my head. His words don’t make any sense. Of course I’m alright. I’m with them. How could I not be?

When they finally pull back, I glance toward the woman in the guild uniform, then to Zeke. Standing just behind him is a frowning angel I don’t recognize. A lieutenant, with metal-tipped wings, but he doesn’t have the thick brown hair I recall Azrael having. This must have been who I saw earlier during the fight.

The fight!

Memories of our night out crash into me. The house. The barn. Roderick. And two hordes of demons trying to capture all of us.

But we were winning. The guild showed up, and I was heading toward my friends. So why is everyone looking at me like we lost?

“What happened to the demons?” When no one responds, I keep going. “The last thing I remember is getting tackled to the ground. After that, it’s just … blank.”

Except it’s not all blank. I can still hear the taunting remarks of that scarred angel. Dead little angels don’t have power, do they?

The guys exchange a look, but it’s Zeke who finally responds.

“You were stabbed, hummingbird. Several times with an angel blade. We don’t understand how you survived, but we’re just glad you did.”

“What?” My gaze darts between all of them. “But that’s impossible.”

When no one says anything, I peer down at my bloody clothes. Beneath my shirt, which is lifted on the right side, there’s a thin line that shimmers faintly with gold and another near my right shoulder, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. As if we needed more unanswered questions, and this time with an audience.

Zeke shifts in my periphery, and the blade he’s holding flashes in the light. It’s only a quick glimpse, but I can tell from the swirling red and black stone that this isn’t an ordinary blade. He carefully sheaths it in the strap on his belt before covering the hilt with his shirt.

The movement is odd. Secretive. Causing a flurry of questions to rise in my throat. The guild is here, a lieutenant directly behind him. Shouldn’t we be giving the blade to him?

As if sensing my questions, Zeke shakes his head almost imperceptibly. Fine. If he wants me to drop it for now, I will. But he’ll need to answer my questions later.

Behind him, the lieutenant steps closer, scrutinizing me. “For my report, I’ll need to know how you ended up here. What were the four of you doing off campus so early in the morning?”

Shit. Has the night truly been that long? The rising sun doesn’t lie, yet still it’s hard to believe. How the fuck did we end up here, bloody and beaten yet again by those vile creatures?

I yawn, eyes heavy as I scramble to find the words.

Zeke beats me to it, answering like he hasn’t spent all night on a high of adrenaline. “It appears we were on a wild goose chase.”

The lieutenant perks up. “Oh?”

“We’ve been trying to uncover information about Hayliel’s ancestors so we might understand her, uh, angelic oddities.”

“I have discolored wings,” I tell him weakly. I may be half dead of exhaustion, but at least I can follow along with what Zeke is leaving out of our story. Without knowing who to trust, it’s better to err on the side of caution instead of spilling our secrets out like bile. Something I was foolishly about to do.

Theo pulls me back until I’m resting against his chest while Raphael continues with an explanation. “Clearly we weren’t asking the right questions because BAM . Next thing we know, demons swarm around us and we definitely weren’t prepared for that.”

“She deals with enough bullshit from other students, so we kept our investigation a secret. Perhaps if we’d been more open and forthcoming, we wouldn’t be in this mess,” Theo adds, though his eyes never leave my face.

“I see,” the lieutenant says, and I wonder if he really does. Can he tell we’re hiding the truth from him? And if he can, what’s stopping him from bringing us in for further questioning?

Clearing his throat, Zeke looks almost apologetic as he says, “We apologize for the secrecy, Lieutenant Atlas, but given everything Hayliel has gone through already plus the odd demon behavior I’ve seen these past few weeks, we thought it best to keep things close to our chest. We hope you understand.”

“Of course, of course. And without prying too much, were you at least able to learn anything valuable about her ancestry before things took a turn?” His eyes drill into me until I feel compelled to answer.

I shake my head. “Unfortunately, no.”

“Ah. Too bad.” He says it with just enough inflection that I can’t tell if he’s genuine or just saying what he thinks I want to hear, but he continues without another thought. “As for the demons, I’ve noticed similarly odd behavior. Zeke, have you shared your worries with Lieutenant Azrael?”

“Some, but not all.” Zeke appears uncomfortable when he answers, and I wonder if he’s worried this might somehow fall down on his friend.

“Well, don’t worry about what happened here today. Focus on resting, and I’ll see if he and I can come up with anything that might explain these attacks.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant Atlas,” Zeke replies as Raphael’s slate vibrates.

He pulls it out, face grim while he reads. “We need to get back on campus.”

Lieutenant Atlas fixes a medal on the lapel of his uniform, wiping off a streak of dark black blood from the shiny surface. If only it were that easy to clean up the mess our city has fallen into. “Great job today, all of you. You,” he focuses on me, “are one lucky angel. Whatever they stabbed you with must have been one well-made knockoff. It had everyone here fooled. In the interest of secrecy, I won’t mention your wing research, though I admit I’m quite curious about what you’ll find if you continue.”

“As am I,” I tell him. “Thank you.” It takes all the energy I have left to keep my mouth shut and not ask him why he thinks the blade is a knockoff. Is that even a possibility? It would explain how I’m alive, at least, but it doesn’t explain the manic look of triumph on the scarred angel’s face. He truly believed that I'd met my end at his hands.

I watch as the lieutenant leaves us, wondering what it is about him that has me so confused. In reality, it’s most likely the fatal wound I somehow survived messing with my mind.

That, and the utter lack of sleep.

Raphael and Theo are arguing with the guild healer about whether they consent to being treated before we leave. They don’t, and for some reason, Raphael is adamant that we have to go. Eventually she gives in, but not before making us all promise that we’ll get seen by someone .

To my surprise, Zeke has stayed quiet throughout all of this. He didn’t argue with the guild healer, or even with Raphael and Theo. All he’s done is stare at me in a way I can’t even begin to decipher.

Is he scared ?

“Feel like you can stand, sunshine?”

I force a laugh, hoping to hide the fact that my body doesn’t feel like it’ll do anything I want it to at this point. “I’m certainly willing to try.”

Raph and Theo pull me to my feet, hovering as if I might collapse any second. They aren’t wrong to worry. Still, I can’t help but look at it in a positive way. Other than a bone-deep exhaustion and some uncomfortable achiness, I’m feeling pretty good. Much better than I should be, considering the wounds I had just moments ago.

Lieutenant Atlas gathers the guild members and orders them to pack up.

Zeke finally breaks his silent streak, though I wish he’d ask a different question. “Think you’ll manage the flight back to campus?”

Honestly? No. There’s a better chance I’ll pass out in the sky than make it all the way back, but I don’t tell him that. “Hopefully. I’d rather not walk or have you three carry me all the way there. But I’d prefer to wait until they leave before we go, if that’s okay.” Having an audience while I put on my wing jacket and attempt the trip back is really something I’d rather avoid.

“You got it, firefly.”

We wait in silence as the rest of the guild members take to the sky, the last of which is Lieutenant Atlas, who throws one last look our way before taking off with his metal-tipped wings glinting against the growing sun.

Knowing there’s a mole in the guild only makes me suspicious of everyone. Zeke says we can trust Azrael, but what about Atlas? What about the woman who just healed me?

Despite my aching body, the relief I feel at letting my wings out is damn near orgasmic. Raphael and Theo help me into my flying jacket, taking great effort to be gentle, while Zeke only watches on with that same look on his face as before. I want to ask him about it, but now doesn’t feel like the right time.

The hovering should piss me off, and maybe tomorrow it will. But right now, I’m just happy to know that I’m not alone.

My body throbs, limbs trembling, and all we’re doing is standing. Fuck. This isn’t good. Still, I don’t want them to know. I’ve seen the haunted look on their faces. What happened here scared the shit out of them. All of them. It would be cruel of me to worry them further, wouldn’t it?

A distraction. That’s what I need. “Any chance our little rendezvous went undetected?” I ask Raphael, who’s on his slate again.

“Maybe. But the longer we stay here, the lower our chances are. And that,” he points to the sky where the sun continues to brighten, cresting over the horizon, “certainly isn’t helping.”

“Good point.”

Theo clears his throat. “Are you sure you’re up for this?” he asks, his face pale. “We can find another way—”

“I’m fine, really.”

And fuck, I hope it’s true.