Page 13 of Wings of Lies (Daughter of the Seven Circles #1)

“Aren’t angels created? Like they blip into the air fully grown or something. ”

He nodded, taking the rabbit off the fire, cutting it apart, and divvying up on a set of plates. “Yes, they are. I’m not sure about the blipping full-grown part, but I’d assume so. Angels are hundreds of years old. So, who knows?” he said as he handed me one and a wooden fork.

The peppery and herbaceous aroma of the meat made my stomachache. I was more than ready to sink my fork into the sizzling goodness. But before I did, I said, “I think I was born.”

He gave me a strange look. “Are you sure you lost your memories? Because it seems you know more than you’re letting on.”

“No—I—” A fluttering sensation tickled my mind. “I was born. I don’t know how I know that or why the thought came to me now. But it’s true.”

He took a bite of his rabbit, chewing slowly. “It’s just… Nephilim don’t have Glory. It’s unheard of. Although Archangels or any other types of angels don’t have your purple flames.”

“Other types?” I asked, taking a large bite of my juicy rabbit.

He set his fork and half-finished plate down, sighing. “Okay, let’s rehash the whole angel hierarchy.”

I couldn’t tell if Oliver was being sarcastic or if he was eager to speak on the subject.

“There are six levels of angels with the Seraphims at the top. I haven’t seen one and probably never will.

Nor do I know anyone who has. The amount of power and rule they have is, well, they’re at the top for a reason.

The next highest are the Archangels.” He motioned to his imaginary ladder.

“A warrior-type angel. They are scary. In a, I will enact my justice in a burn-you-to-bits-with-my-Glory kind of way. Like you.”

I swallowed, looking down at my food .

“Some have an extra power specific to them, which makes them extra scary. They are also… How would you say it nicely?” He tapped a finger against his lip.

“Stuck-up assholes and stone-cold killers. Dominions are under them. They are still ruthless assholes, but they have sick telekinetic powers and keep the other angels under them in line. Then there are the Thrones, which are more of a scholarly type. They like books. A lot of books. We already had a run-in with some Powers?—”

“Which you have yet to explain how we got away from.”

He rolled his eyes.

Was he purposefully avoiding the subject?

He continued, ignoring my questioning look. “We ran into an earth and sky elemental.”

“Sky isn’t an element.”

“No, but it’s a class within the Powers. A sky elemental is someone who has the power over wind, rain, and lightning. I guess you could say thunder, too. Which means she is most likely a colonel,” he explained.

She , as in he saw who they were. Is , suggesting they still lived. “Colonel?”

“A military ranking. Pretty high up there,” he shrugged like it was no big deal that Oliver went up against a Power who had control over three elements and ranked high in their military.

“How’d we survive?” What tale could Oliver even tell that I’d believe?

He ignored me, focus glued on the fire. “Virtues are the last level. They are also part of their military but do more healing than fighting. Not that they can’t.

I’m pretty sure every level of angel is trained to fight.

They are the most level-headed and friendly.

Not that that’s saying much. For some reason, all pure-blooded angels act like they have a stick shoved up their asses, unlike us, the Nephilim half-breeds who are above the disgraced Fallen and other manner of supernatural creatures.

And that wraps up the short overview of the angels. ”

“How, Oliver?”

“My powers, Lucille.”

He hardly ever used my full name. And never in such a severe tone. Whatever he did, whatever powers he used, he didn’t want to talk about it. We were safe, and I was pressing too much. I needed to let it go for now.

“ Your powers have aspects of an Archangels. Even your healing is accelerated. That blast that incinerated the thick tree should’ve knocked you out after all you’ve been through. A Nephilim would’ve passed out or died.” He stared at me, fire flickering from the emerald depths of his eyes.

“So, you’re convinced I’m potentially a stone-cold killer with a stick shoved up my ass?”

He snorted, breaking his moment of seriousness.

“I’m saying your memory isn’t reliable; you almost killed me twice now, at times have murdery eyes, have Glory, which only Archangels have, have accelerated healing— more so than a Nephilim—and can potentially have a mother that isn’t blood-related. That’s what I’m saying.”

Was I an Archangel? But I didn’t blip into existence.

I was born and raised by my mom, not a ruthless Archangel.

If that were the case, then I would’ve been able to protect her.

Oliver said angels were all trained in their military.

If I were one of them, I would’ve never cowered behind a corner, hesitating to protect the only person I loved.

Oliver, noticing my internal battle and wrongly assuming my thoughts, said, “Blood doesn’t matter when it comes to love. ”

“I know.”

He gave me a weak smile, then stared into the fire. “I had—I have a sister who isn’t blood-related to me. Not with her inky dark hair and olive skin.”

Entranced by learning something personal about him, I listened to his soft words.

“I remember when my mom brought her home. She was so tiny and cried way too much. But sometimes, my mom let me hold her, and she’d stop crying.

She’d look up at me with her dark eyes and stare.

Only with me, though. She didn’t talk to my mom at first, and I was too young to ask why or where she came from.

I just remembered liking that I was no longer an only child, and she liked me more.

” An inner light lit Oliver’s face. Not joking, not moody, not the mischievous smirk he frequently wore, but a genuine smile.

It was the first one I’d ever seen grace his face.

“What was her name?” I asked.

“Melanie. But I called her Lainy.”

“Called?”

His smile dropped as he rubbed his scar. “Marcus took her a long time ago.”

“Why? Where’d he take her?” But I had a sneaking suspicion that I knew where. “You think she’s in Elora, in the Tenebrous Kingdom?”

I knew nothing of Elora, but Oliver associated Marcus with that kingdom.

A lackey, he said, meaning someone worse was above Marcus pulling the strings.

But if Marcus kidnapped angels for his sovereign, why was I caged on Earth and Oliver’s sister taken to Marcus’s kingdom?

Unless kidnapping, and drugging to the point of uselessness was the first step before he handed me over to his sovereign in Elora .

“You’re sure she’s there?”

“I know she is.” He kicked at the fire again, then abruptly chucked his plate and barely eaten food into it.

I swallowed. “How?”

He glanced at me—his expression filled with guilt, anger, and glassy pain.

“My mom kept us sheltered on Earth. She never liked to talk about my father, only telling us the bare minimum of what we were. Maybe she would’ve explained more when we were older, but she never got the chance.

” He turned away, not elaborating. “I grew up in foster care, such a joyful experience. Instead of picking fights like any normal, abandoned kid would, I dove headfirst into research about angels and Elora. They thought I was crazy. When I was old enough, I figured out how to travel to this different world, but I still never found her. It wasn’t until I became desperate enough that I made an associate.

” He dropped his head, rubbing his wrist. “After years of me floundering, they helped locate her , ” he said, voice cracking.

“ Years, only to learn that my sister was being kept in an impenetrable kingdom.”

I poked at my bones and the little bits of meat I no longer had the stomach for. “Do you think he took my mom there?”

Oliver jerked to look at me. “That’s why you want to go to Elora. Not just for answers, but for your mom.”

I nodded. We acknowledged each other, connecting on a shared understanding of want and pain. Then, something flashed in his eyes as he turned away.

Compassion? Guilt? I couldn’t tell.

“It’s possible. He had you. But not knowing what or who your mom is, I don’t know why he’d take her.”

“Why’d he take Melanie? ”

Oliver quieted. Bringing up her name did a number on him. “Power,” he finally said. “My mom had an angel friend who was a seer. She saw that my sister would grow into another powerful seer. Somehow, the Tenebrous Kingdom must’ve found out.”

“So, my mom might be an angel they kidnapped for her power?”

In my memory, her eyes flashed purple, and something forced me outside the house.

So Oliver could be right. Maybe my mind was so muddled that I thought I was born, when, in reality, I was an angel, and my mom wasn’t my biological mom.

The thought did nothing to temper my love for her, but it did increase my guilt for my ineptitude.

Oliver nodded. “Maybe. Or she’s in the Ethereal Kingdom.”

“Why would they kidnap her? Are they better or worse than the Tenebrous Kingdom?”

“Depends on who you ask. In my opinion, both kingdoms could burn in hell. The Ethereal Kingdom is filled with all those purebloods with sticks in their asses. If your mom happened to piss off the wrong high-ranking angel, they could’ve taken her as easily as Marcus could’ve.”

I dropped my head into my hands. “That’s helpful.”

“Do you remember anything else?”

“The uniformed soldiers kept flashing between white armor and blood-red leather. Does that mean anything?”

Oliver snorted. “Yeah.”

I perked up.

“White or light blue armor is what the Ethereal military wears. Red is what the Tenebrous Kingdom wears.”

Damn it. “That sure narrows it down.”

“When we get to Elora, what kingdom will we be in?”

“Neither. We’ll be in The Divide. ”

I laughed. It wasn’t a humorous one. Not when exhaustion and a throbbing pain pummeled my head, back, and feet. “Which is?”

“A place between the two kingdoms. Neutral territory.”

I shook my pounding head. I was about to ask if he knew who Magda was, but my eyes fluttered, and I didn’t think I could retain anything else.

“You’re drained. Go to bed before you topple over into the fire. I don’t feel like seeing if you’re fire-proof tonight. We can practice your power tomorrow.”

I sighed, standing on wobbly legs. “Yeah. There’s just so much I don’t know.”

When I started toward the tent, I heard a soft. “There sure is.”

The moment I saw my sleeping bag, I flopped and fell asleep.