Page 13 of Angel Lost (Fates Academy #3)

Chapter Thirteen: Lorelei

“Thought you’d done with me did you, skinny?” I freeze. Frank . “What pretty lies you told yourself.”

Strolling toward me, Frank’s bigger and meaner looking than I remember. Like my foster dad finally beefed up, hit the gym; like he got off the booze and took some steroids instead. I edge away.

“You’re going to pay for what you did to me, Skinny,” he snarls.

My nostrils flare and I force down the panic, standing my ground. Frank is dead. I killed him. The bitter taste washes over my tongue again. I roll my tongue around my mouth. That’s it. Bitter apple. The king is in my memories, my fears. The asshole is using them against me.

I square my shoulders. Frank is not real.

He backhands me across the face. My head cracks sideways and my lip splits. Copper fills my mouth. I whirl to face him again, throwing my arms up to cast. But nothing comes. The cuffs. Shit. No fire, no air. Frank leers at me. Lightning quick, his meaty fist connects with my stomach.

Pain. So much pain.

I land in the dirt, the air knocked out of me. My chest constricts. Nothing, no air. This can’t be happening. I strain to breathe, and finally, a wheeze of oxygen reaches my lungs. Then Frank is on me.

He was never this quick when he was alive. I pull my legs under me, tensing. He kicks out with vicious speed, and I dive sideways, barely avoiding another blow. I roll, ending flat on my back, Frank towering over me. No one is this fast. I’m half vampire and he’s quicker ? !

Reaching inside, pushing the nausea down, I haul up my aether and fling it at him. A feeble spark flickers from my fingertips, dying before it reaches Frank’s feet. My stomach turns and I retch. Above me, Frank laughs. Then, he rains blows down. My sides, my kidneys, my head. I curl up. Black spots dance in front of my eyes.

It’s not real. None of this is real.

It feels real.

I’m yanked to my feet. Frank hauls me against him—too close. So close, I feel it. His dick, hard against my back. Disgust curdles in my gut, but I bite it down. Stay controlled. Do not demand more from the boys. I let just a trickle of aether pool in my hands—weak, restrained—before lashing out. He curses, shoving me away, and I hit the ground, hard.

He laughs then, a sound of pure evil. “Fine. Have it your way. You’re clearly not broken enough yet.”

Frank grabs my arms. And I hear it again. The sound I never, ever want to hear. The sound of water running, while Frank chuckles. This fucking illusion. There wasn’t even water here, only seconds ago.

Slowly, he lowers me down. No. No, no, no. Water creeps up my legs, my body, up my neck, my chin. I fling my head back, taking in short gulps of air. Water splashes up, stinging my nostrils. Frank’s hideous weight on top of me, he holds me under, squeezing the air out of me.

And I’m back there. Back in my foster carer’s backyard, being punished again.

“Ready to behave yet, Skinny?” His voice is muffled by the water.

Defiantly, I shake my head, and he pulls me up slightly, allowing me a snatched half breath before plunging me under again. I fight the urge to inhale. I’m not that terrified child. Not anymore. I have aether now. I can fight. But not too much. Not enough to give myself away.

I pull just a thread of power from the bond, just enough to strike. A sharp burst of magic slams into Frank’s chest. He staggers.

Not far enough .

My feet slip, and icy water closes over me again. Stupid cuffs. Stupid bond. Panic flares. My fingers scrape against the void where my strength should be. I reach deeper, tug harder. Desperation sets me on fire as I yank at the tether, dragging every ounce of aether I can back to me.

Too much. That was too much…Not full power, but still, dangerous. Get a grip.

Then, the air shimmers—just a flicker, a ripple at the edges of my vision. A low hum vibrates through my bones. And they appear.

My allegiance. Kai.

Are they really here? Is this reality?

Warm hands haul me from the freezing water, bodies closing in, forming a circle. They’re all here. All in the Angel King’s grasp. Fuck. This is my fault. I couldn’t even survive the threat of a dead man without calling them to me. It’s Naeve’s death all over again. My fault.

The darkness fades, and suddenly an angel stands in front of us, his wings out, a circlet of white gold on his head.

“Come to me, Lorelei,” the Angel King commands.

“No.” It’s out before I can stop it. Around me, the boys bristle, moving closer, blocking his view of me. “I want to stay with them.”

I peer around Chano’s shoulder.

The king clenches his fists. “You would deny your king for your allegiance?”

“My Aeternum, too!”

The king’s fingers drift to the handle of the scepter at his waist, and he mutters an incantation so low I can’t catch it. I don’t understand what he’s done until I hear the sound of wings. Slowly, I look up.

A squad of angels in full armor descends. They don’t pause, don’t hesitate. They attack.

Chano roars, throwing himself at the two angels closest, Farrell and Zephyr team up against another couple, and Kai beelines for the one coming straight at me. I grasp for my magic. Nothing. These stupid cuffs. I rub my wrists frantically, the skin raw. But they won’t budge. I palm my knife instead and leap after Kai, slashing wildly.

The angels heal so quickly, and the boys are tiring. I hit out in frustration, burying my knife in the fleshy part of an angel’s wing, and he screams. The shriek tears at my eardrums, blood trickling down my cheek, but…that’s it. Their weak spot.

We swing into a rhythm. I attack the wings, damage them, then get out of the way and let the boys clear up. It’s working. We’re—

Zephyr yells, panic lacing his voice. I crane my neck. There. He’s cornered, three on one. I scramble toward him.

A thin, sinewy hand clamps down on my wrist and I’m dragged into the side of the king.

“Tell them to stand down,” he hisses. I press my lips together. “Tell them to stand down or they die. All of them.”

Hopelessness washes over me as another wave of angels descends from the sky.

I give a piercing wolf whistle. “Stop. Guys, stop.”

Chano pauses, white feathers stuck to the side of his face, blood trickling down his chin. In his hands, an angel, neck torn open. The next battalion lands with ground-trembling impact, and I shake my head slowly.

We can’t win this.

The others slowly step back, arms held high.

The Angel King’s hands rest lightly on my shoulders as I take in the devastation. So much blood…the blood of angels.

What have we done? They’re bloodthirsty barbarians, my allegiance. Monsters. Why am I fighting for them? Killing peaceful angels. Slaughtering the king’s men. Look at them—nasty, savage murderers.

The thoughts slither through me, oily and wrong. I blink. Their faces come into focus. The faces of people I trust. They’re my fucking barbarians. Here to protect me. A snarl rips from my throat as I wrench sideways, breaking free of the Angel King’s grip. He was in my head, dammit. Influencing me. I take another half step away.

“Line them up,” the king calls as he casually flicks a handkerchief out of his pocket and holds it to my face. Huh. Didn’t realize my nose was bleeding. I push his hands away.

“As you will. It is easier with blood,” the king says, fingering the stained hanky.

Small black dots pepper my vision. Suddenly the king’s here again. Inside my head somehow. Not just a voice this time but a slimy presence, worming into my thoughts, whirling like a dervish through my memories.

I take a breath. I can do this. Silas taught me.

I picture the king in there, opening doors to memories. As one cracks open, panic flares. If he sees too much…The rebellion, their plans—it would all be over. But if I push too hard, if I pull too much aether, I’ll expose myself instead.

Risk them. Or risk me.

I grit my teeth and tread the knife’s edge. A sliver of power seeps out—just enough. As the door creaks wider, I slam it shut, quickly stacking barricades, building walls, forging an entire fortress in my mind.

It works. Please don’t let him work out how strong I am. Please.

Panting, the king drops his bloody hanky to the ground at my feet. “Don’t worry, Miss Bal. We can revisit this later. For now, choose.” He nods toward the lineup of my allegiance. “Choose who to save.”

I stare at him.

“They can’t all live. You chose them over your king. I won’t have that. So now you have to choose which one dies.” The king rubs his hands together expectantly.

What kind of sick fuckery is this?

My breath comes fast and sharp as I scan their faces, my pulse hammering in my throat .

Zephyr stands rigid, his usually soft, dreamy expression hardened into something unrecognizable. His clothes are torn, streaked with soot and blood, his beautiful hair matted to his forehead. Not Zephyr. Not kind, gentle, hippy Zephyr.

My Aeternum. Chano.

Four angels hold him down, his arms wrenched behind his back. He strains against them, muscles flexing, fury blazing in his eyes. No submission. No meekness. The thought of losing him—it’s unbearable. Not him.

Farrell.

Blood drips from a gash at his temple, but he stands tall, shoulders squared, defiant even now. My feelings for him are a mess, tangled, but he’s the one with a rebellion to lead. He might actually take this asshole down.

And then there’s Kai.

His face is calm—too calm. He holds my gaze, unreadable, his jaw tight. No bruises, no bindings, nothing to suggest he fought back. The king’s own nephew. If there’s anyone who might survive this, it’s him. Surely, the king won’t actually kill his own blood.

The king grabs my wrists, slipping the bands off, and I rub at the raw skin.

“Have you chosen?”

I nod, tears dripping down my face.

“Do it,” he says.

My heart thunders. “What? No.”

“Then they all die.”

I chew my lip, shaking my head.

“Make it quick, little aether. Show me your power.”

I wrap my arms around myself, and the king sighs. He signals, and the angels force the boys to their knees. Knives so white they have to be luxbane appear in their hands. My breathing speeds up. I can’t stop myself, can’t slow it down, can’t get a handle on it. One single scratch from luxbane and their magic will drain. It won’t stop until …

“All of them or one, aether. Choose.”

Kai. It has to be Kai.

The others—I’m sure of them. The others, I trust.

My hands tremble as I raise them. The eyes of each of my allegiance widen. I’m so sorry.

I reach deep, tugging my magic back from the slave bond, but carefully—just enough. A clean kill. No suffering. No more than necessary. Screwing my eyes shut, I release it all in a single blast.

Silence.

I stand there, frozen, eyes closed for a long, long moment. I have to look. I have to see what I’ve done.

I open my eyes. They’re all down. All of them. Sprawled across the dirt, motionless. Cold panic grips my chest.

No. Just Kai. It was only supposed to be Kai.

A slow, pleased smirk spreads across the king’s face.