Page 64 of Wings of Lies (Daughter of the Seven Circles #1)

Chapter

Thirty-Eight

BLOODHOUND AND RUNE

A DAY AGO

“ S ir, Rune lost eyes on them... again.” I stood in front of his desk. The mahogany wood stretched half the length of his chambers, centered with the fireplace. The king faced the fire, only the top of his ice-blonde head exposed above his cushioned chair.

“What do you mean, general?” The room dropped to an uncomfortable temperature. Usually, I didn’t fear him, but tomorrow was the day, and we still didn’t have a location.

After I let the king drain the last of my power to help out the female, we didn’t have enough to connect to either her or the Nephilim again. So, Rune was our last resort. A fickle beast still in training. One we couldn’t wholly trust at her age. Not when so much was riding on this mission.

“Sir, Rune chased off some Hellhounds and lost their trail.”

The temperature plummeted. Fuck .

My skin burned from the frigid air, but I ignored it. I’d been through a lot worse in my three hundred years.

“We have five hours, general. We need to figure out where she is. You’ll only have so much time to retrieve her.”

My concern wasn’t whether I could retrieve her but the matter of our imprisonment. It’s been nine years since the gates shut.

“Sir, the gates?—”

The king’s fist slammed into this desk, spreading a thin layer of ice over the dark wood. “They will open.” He removed his hand, standing to walk closer to the fire. “She passed the test. She’s who I’ve been looking for,” he muttered.

What test?

“And they all want her. The Ethereal Military, my damned wife, and whoever the pathetic demon works for.” Ice spread across the floor as he toed the line of his restraint.

“They will open,” I said, keeping the awkwardness from my tone. Comforting someone didn’t come naturally to me, but the ice creeping up my leg pushed me to it. “And if they don’t, I’ll try the portal again.”

“We’ll have more luck with the gates. There is no use getting your wings wet again.

The Dreads may demand I appoint a new general if you do.

” The ice crusting my pant leg receded. He turned around, drilling me with an icy gaze.

“Go, Bloodhound, figure out where she is. I don’t want to see your face again until you do. ”

“Yes, Sir.” I left to connect with Rune.

TWO HOURS AGO

I knocked on his door .

“If you’re General Ronen, then enter. If you’re anyone else, leave.” The King’s voice hinted at a slow death. Ice crystallized underneath the crack of the door. We were minutes away from our schedule.

I took a deep breath, gathering myself for this potential shitstorm, and confidently pushed into his office.

Fractured ice covered the wood-polished floor.

“Cutting it close, Bloodhound. Tell me.” He stood from his chair. Leather, in black and red of our kingdom’s colors, embraced the cords of his muscles. He dressed for battle. Yet he wouldn’t be the one going out there. He was as much a prisoner to his kingdom as his wife was.

“Rune is outside an abandoned house at the edge of The Divide.”

“How do you know it’s the edge of The Divide?”

“They’re next to the killing fields.”

His dark gray eyes nearly vanished behind his two thickening white rings. Ever since he sensed her power months ago, his control had been on a relentless rampage.

I knew her name. I knew she was important, so much so that I had been threatened with my life if I didn’t retrieve her.

Not that I was worried. He called me Bloodhound for a reason.

However, the lack of additional intel irritated me.

If only bridging two separate minds allowed me to join the connection.

But my powers had limits. Plus, he wasn’t one to share unless it was absolutely necessary.

I squared my shoulders. The next part would prove challenging to convey, and there was no time to waste thawing me if I upset the king. “Marcus is with her. Which means Saraqael may be there too. ”

The rings swallowed the rest of his irises. “And?” He knew there was more. We’d been searching for Marcus’s new employer, trying to find Saraqael.

“Rune didn’t lay eyes on the face. But she did see white armor. Your old armor.” I almost said our, but I never received the white, as my position decreed. No, I received black—not that it mattered anymore.

But what I said did.

I luscelered to the doorframe, feeling the change in the air before the ceiling and floor erupted in sharp spears of ice.

“Go stand by the gates, general. Wait until they open and bring them to me. Kill anyone who stands in your way and drag back their rotten souls. And if the gates don’t open,”—the whites of his eyes glowed—“pray that they do.”

The air pulsed, and my ebony wings manifested. I stretched them out, enjoying the relief of having them free.

“Oh, general, if the Nephilim is with them, bring him too. Put him on Rune if you have to.”

“Yes, Sir.” I left just as crashing ice erupted behind me.

FIVE MINUTES AGO

The gates opened. How he knew they would, I didn’t need to know.

But they did, and I flew to Rune. Our connection made it easy to find her, even after years of separation.

I popped my wings out of existence and crouched beside her in the tall grass.

My shadows helped to blend us into the shade of a large oak. The dusk sky also helped.

She pushed her black body into me, craving attention after being away from me for so long. I didn’t have the time. But as I was about to stand, Marcus came out, and two figures luscelered to the house’s front porch. One of them tackled Marcus to the ground.

It was the Nephilim.

The other figure stormed past, leaving them to fight.

My shadows darkened as I drilled my gaze into the back of the cloaked figure. The king ordered me to kill anyone who stood in my way. Fortunately for the Nephilim, the king wanted him back, but the cloaked figure may be the first on my list.

Moments later, the front door slammed open, and an Archangel raced out of the house and into the skies. I eyed him for a second, knowing my king wouldn’t be pleased, but brushing away the thought of chasing after him. His day would come. For now, I was here for the female and Saraqael.

“Stay here, pup. Keep an eye out. I’ll be watching.”

Rune butted her muzzle into my hand, a silent confirmation that she understood but wasn’t happy about it.

I wrapped my shadows around myself, left the Nephilim and Marcus to fight it out, and entered the rickety old house.

Scanning each room, I strategically placed my steps to stay silent.

Candy wrappers and chip bags, food only found on Earth, littered the living room.

Encroaching upon the kitchen, my lip curled at the wretched smell of rot, blood, and rat piss.

The surrounding rooms had the added benefit of peeled paint, glass, and more feces.

This place was a shit-hole. An empty shit-hole.

No one occupied the first floor. I was about to go to the second when a scream pierced the air. Diving deeper into my well, I pulled at the darkness, swathing more layers around myself to stay hidden and luscelered to the scream.

I stopped at the threshold of the basement .

The rancid, rotten blood overwhelmed my senses. What kind of sick bastard would make their basement a butcher shop? But the smell wasn’t what stopped me.

Saraqael lay unconscious on a table next to the female, and from all the blood that covered the female’s table, the butchering already started.

Her breaths stuttered in and out, clearly in a lot of pain, with the queen’s pet hunched over her.

“Sweetheart? Stay here. Stay with me. Please, just hang on a little longer. I’ll take you to a healer first. I promise,” the pet said, not noticing me behind him.

He pulled a knife from her hand, the sound of suctioning blood getting lost in her whimpers.

“Put it in my waistband,” she whispered with no strength.

He listened, tucking the sheathed knife beneath her bloody pants. Afterward, he sheathed his sword, freeing his hands to pick her up. That was a mistake, along with touching her.

I willed a shadowball to coalesce in my palm. It wouldn’t kill him; I’d need his blood for that. But it’d knock him out long enough for me to slit his throat. I wound up and threw it. The female peered at me as I did, like she could pierce through my shadows.

But that wasn’t possible. To her and the pet, I should look like a cloud of black. Only… Her eyes…

They drilled into me. Agony screamed in their star-flecked depths.

I didn’t even think. Pulling at the deepest parts of my power, the shadowball darkened as it flew toward the pet’s back with enough force to knock him out for months.

For the first time in a century, I allowed my rage to overpower my abilities.

A loss of control, first the king, now me .

“Aspen! Behind you!”

The pet turned, and the female rolled, pushing off the table and diving in front of him. My shadowball sank into her chest.

“No!”

Damn it! I didn’t mean to say that aloud. But fuck!

I hoped she had a high power level, or I’d have to tell the king I knocked the female out for half a year.

She stared at me as my shadows swarmed her body and mind. I couldn’t look away. And my shadows… What were they doing?

They… It almost felt like they were savoring her. Like they found something they liked and weren’t quite ready to shut her down. When they eventually did, it was gentle, like tucking her into a dreamless sleep.

“Lucille!”

Her body went slack in the pet’s arms, and before I knew it, a fireball flashed toward my face.

“What the fuck did you do to her!” he roared.

“It was meant for you, not her. She’s alive.” But I needed him to move out of my way so I could check on her wounds.

He laid her down on the ground, placing his feet in front of her, white knuckling his sword. “Who the fuck are you? Show yourself!” His power erupted in his eyes and transferred to the blade in his hands. The muscles in his legs and arms shook as he held his defensive stance.