Page 13 of First Offense

Twenty-two.

Was there another set of stairs in the reformatory that led to additional cells? I hadn’t seen one. And there weren’t enough beds for the number of angels falling from the sky.

Unless Sayir meant for us all to bunk up together, which was not bloody happening.

Layla’s lower lip trembled as two Noir brushed her wings. I growled at them as I approached, my hand on my blade. “Fuck off,” I demanded, reaching for her as the ground rumbled beneath us.

What the fuck?

Heat brushed my senses, sending me sideways as a geyser of flame erupted from the sands where I’d just stood.

My eyes widened, a curse leaving my lips.

A cascade of thunderous roars followed as more flames shot up throughout the courtyard in a matter of seconds. I sought out Layla, and my shoulders sagged at finding her unharmed.

She’s okay.

She’s alive.

“Lay—”

Shrieks pierced the air at my back. I whirled to find a bluster of chaos as Noir launched into the sky, trying to avoid the spikes of fire below as half of the inmates tried futilely to save their fiery wings.

Feathers weren’t meant to burn.

They sizzled to ash, forever gone.

I tucked my plumes tight into my back and yelled at Layla to do the same. I had no idea what was going on, but—

A series of pops sounded, followed by Noir dropping like stones.

Machine guns?“What the fuck is going on?!” I demanded, spinning around.

“Survival of the fittest,” a dark voice murmured in my ear.

Novak. I spun to face him. A ghost of a smile flirted with his lips, causing me to narrow my eyes. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“You haven’t figured it out yet?” He tsked. “How disappointing.”

I opened my mouth to tell him to fuck off, when a warning wave of warmth caressed my senses. I leapt, putting myself farther away from Layla, and far too close to Novak. His scent washed over me, all leather and spice and man, and not at all like the dog stench his fellow Noir wore.

“What are you doing?” I asked him.

He replied by delivering a roundhouse kick to an approaching Noir, sending the poor sod into a nearby flame.

I shook my head. “I don’t have time for—”

Layla screamed as a Noir exploded into flames beside her, the inferno eating at his clothes and crawling over his skin with preternatural strength. I took a step forward, only for Novak to grab my wing and yank me backward.

I growled, my dagger falling into my palm, when fire billowed up from the ground, right where I would have stepped.

My eyebrows lifted. “Shit.”

“It’s a game,” he said, his voice low against my ear. “Take flight, earn a bullet. Step out of place, go up in flames. Or worse, meet a razor wire.”

A Noir to our left shrieked as he did the latter, some invisible net slicing right through his wings and leaving him in jigsaw pieces on the ground.

Holy gods…