Page 50 of Dance of the Phoenix (Cloak of the Vampire #3)
Eliza
In my forty-some years of living, I never thought I would visit Haramon, the Realm of the Malachi, in my lifetime. But even in my wildest dreams, I didn’t think I would actually witness a Malachi trial .
Yet here I was, in a large amphitheater made of pure crystals all around, on the tenth floor, placed under the clear blue sky, about to watch a sight an outsider like me should never behold.
Anyone who interfered in Malachi business, and this counted as one of the highest-level businesses the Malachi had to offer, had only one fate: death.
Which was why I was hiding at the very back of the amphitheater, behind a silky white curtain near the archway I’d entered through.
About a thousand Malachi sat in the audience, all wearing the traditional Malachi gear, meaning no shirts and different types of bottoms. Unlike other intelligent races, the Malachi embraced nudity, even seeing it as part of their right, because of their wings.
So that female Malachi hung around topless, with their chests on display, mattered shit not.
The Malachi were far more progressive than either humans or vampires, that was for sure.
At the bottom of the amphitheater was a long desk, behind which sat twelve winged figures—six men and six women—who made up the Malachi’s Court of Justice. They were also the highest-ranking Malachi—the Seraphim. The ones who ruled over the rest of the Malachi.
And in front of them, on her knees, was a woman with her back to the audience, her ankles and wrists cuffed to the floor in chains. Her feathery wings, colored a deep crimson, hung loose on the ground, her long platinum hair gliding between them.
“Felleya, daughter of Murdoch,” said one of the Seraphim sitting at the desk, his voice echoing clearly in the open air, thanks to the absolute silence, “Seraph Cadriel has charged you with the following crimes.”
Another Seraph at the desk rose, holding a scroll as she read, “Unauthorized visit to Aderra, unauthorized association with multiple outlanders, unauthorized usage of aether, usage of aether against other Malachi, an attempted offense against a Malachi guard while awaiting trial, and sexual relations with an outlander.”
Those were some serious allegations. First of all, the Malachi had to ask the Seraphim for special approvals for almost everything.
They couldn’t leave Haramon without approval, and special approval was required for them to legally travel to Aderra, or rather the Realm of the Living (planet Earth for short).
They also couldn’t contact “outlanders” as they called them—which basically meant anyone who wasn’t Malachi—without the Seraphim’s consent.
Some charges were far more severe than others, though.
Controlling the aether was an ability all Malachi were born with, and while they could use it freely in this realm, it was a different story when it came to other realms. Worse than that was controlling the aether with the intent to attack a fellow Malachi.
That was a very big no-no. Same went for attacking a Malachi guard.
But the worst offense of them all was the Malachi having sex with an outlander. That went beyond a simple crime; it was a downright sin .
Meaning this Malachi, Felleya, was fucked.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself before we proceed?” a male Seraph now asked.
While I was pretty far from the stage below, I could still tell Felleya was trembling. She didn’t utter a word and simply shook her head slowly, her hair glistening with her movements.
“Then we shall pass the judgment now,” a female Seraph said, and all twelve Seraphim stood up before she continued. “We hereby declare you a sinner and order your expulsion, effective immediately.”
A cry left Felleya.
No one spoke as two Malachi, not Seraphim, went onstage and stood at Felleya’s sides. At first, I thought they were going to release her from the chains and drag her away, but what they did next made me sick to my stomach.
Each Malachi grabbed a wing, and with a sudden forceful movement, tore them away.
Felleya’s screams of agony as blood trickled from her wingless back were too hard for me to bear. I looked away, squeezing my right eye shut, and shakily put my hands over my ears.
The cruelty of what I’d just witnessed, the absolute horror of tearing a Malachi’s beautiful wings away .
.. I’d seen my fair share of terrible things throughout my life.
But somehow, watching those men rip Felleya’s wings apart from her shoulder blades took its place as one of the top five most horrible scenes I’d ever witnessed.
I didn’t know how long it took for the screams to subside, but when they finally disappeared, I lowered my hands and opened my right eye, turning to look back at the stage. The Seraphim were still at the desk, but Felleya was gone.
Yet a pool of blood, as red as her former wings, still remained.
My target was a Seraph named Theorius.
As I hid behind the curtain, watching the Malachi leaving the amphitheater by flying upward toward the clear sky, not looking back to see if there was a Peeping Tom (because why would they?), I wondered how I could locate Theorius.
From the dry details I had acquired, I knew he had the Seraphim’s trademark white wings, blond hair, and eyes so bright, they were almost white.
I studied the six male Seraphim who still lingered at the desk down on the stage.
They were all different shades of blond.
I was too far away to see the color of their eyes.
When the amphitheater was empty but for the Seraphim, who were now talking near the desk in their foreign language, I decided to try and get closer. Lowering myself on all fours, I hid behind the empty chairs in the audience and made my way through the rows as carefully as I could.
After coming so far, the last thing I wanted was to get busted so close to completing my mission.
The Seraphim’s voices grew louder the more I progressed. I just wished they would speak in English again so I could understand what they were saying. Unfortunately, it seemed English had been reserved only for the trial.
When I reached one of the front rows, I peeked through the rift between the seats in front of me. The Seraphim were still talking to one another, but I could finally make out more of their features.
And I easily found my guy.
Theorius was standing in front of the desk, leaning his side against it, giving me a full view of his profile. And when he moved his head at one point to look upward, I managed to see his eyes.
They were just like their description. The irises were almost white, as if they were glowing like a vampire’s.
Another thing that helped was that the Seraph who was talking to him said something that sounded suspiciously like “Theorius.”
With my eyes locked on him, I simply watched and waited until the Seraphim dispersed.
It was fascinating in its own way, seeing them interact, this aloof, arrogant, emotionless people.
As they chatted in their native tongue, their faces looked as though they were carved in stone.
Not even a hint of expression. And while I didn’t understand their language, the tone of their voices was oddly empty of lilting gestures.
They spoke almost as monotonously as robots.
By the time the Seraphim began to fly away, I was fully anxious. Thankfully, Theorius was still here, talking to another Seraph, only the two of them remaining in the amphitheater. And yet what would I do if he flew away like all the others?
Think, Eliza!
I looked down at my grappling hook. The only idea I had was suicidal—if it succeeded. Which was what I needed, obviously.
Biting my lip, I saw the two Seraphim were starting to make motions of ending the conversation. Before I could think twice about what I was about to do, I grabbed the grappling hook and tied it swiftly to a rope.
A moment after I was done, Theorius and his friend took flight.
With an internal scream of pure fear, I threw the grappling hook.
And it latched onto the hem of Theorius’s pants.
Gripping my end of the rope as strongly as I could as I sat on my ass, I pulled my entire weight to my core, weighing myself down as much as possible.
At first, Theorius didn’t seem to realize what was wrong. He flapped his wings strongly, making my biceps groan in pain as I tightened my hold. When he realized something else was preventing him from flying away, he looked down.
His eyes met mine.
He shot downward, straight to me, and I let go of the rope and pushed my hands forward, palms up, just as he was about to crash into me.
His naked chest hit my palms.
And at the same time, I lowered my mental walls and opened my mind.