Wings of the Wicked (13 page)

His mouth tightened. “I suspected that he must have been killed in order to take the relic from him. The guardians never surrender.”

“Who did it?”

“Vir,” he said. “Their names are Merodach and Kelaeno. They are the ones helping Bastian find what he needs. And once they do that, they’ll be coming for you.”

“If Orek fails, you mean.”

His gaze burned into mine. “Yes, I’m sorry. The situation is only going to get worse for you.”

I studied his face, my head spinning to come up with the answer of his true allegiance. He knew so much about Bastian’s plans, so they had to be close, but he was willing to risk everything to help me. “Why the espionage, Cadan?”

“I’ve already told you.”

“The risk is too great,” I insisted. “There must be something more. What’s in it for you? Are you going to betray me?”

That smile came to life again. “Even if I said no, would you believe me?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even know if it’s Bastian you’re spying on or if it’s me.”

“Why can’t you believe that I want you to stop him?” he asked earnestly.

I narrowed my gaze. “Why don’t you do it yourself?”

He didn’t answer me at first, and a strange look came over his face as his shoulders stiffened. His eyes broke away from mine and searched around us before returning. “It’s complicated.”

“No more complicated than our own arrangement.”

His brow flickered with amusement, the uncertainty washing away in an instant. “Arrangement? And on what terms is this
arrangement
?”

I ignored that. “Is it because you aren’t strong enough to kill him, or because you don’t want to?”

His gaze moved slowly over my mouth and back up to my eyes. “Both.”

“You’re still loyal to him,” I said. “And now to me, for some reason.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“You’ll have to choose a side, Cadan.”

He grinned and gave a single soft huff of a laugh, though his eyes looked sad. “That is also true.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of him. He was gorgeous and very mysterious, and I was indisputably drawn to him. Those things all made him dangerous, even if I believed he wouldn’t raise a hand to me. Simply being his friend was dangerous to us both. I picked my book off the floor and set it on the end table before I sank back into the soft chair. “What is this necklace supposed to do, anyway?”

He sat down in the chair opposite mine and dragged it closer. He leaned forward and spoke softly. “It was crafted by the Grigori Cardinal Lord of the East, Aldebaran. He tricked Constantina, the eldest daughter of the Roman emperor Constantine, into taking it.”

“I remember her,” I said, frowning as the memories flooded back to me. Constantina had been the driving force behind some of the earliest witch hunts, seventeen hundred years ago, executing innocent people and then taking everything valuable they owned for herself. The Grigori weren’t exactly like the Fallen imprisoned in Hell, and they were bound to earth to help humans in penance. That meant they were not entirely evil, but they were also not entirely good. Aldebaran knew of Constantina’s evil, and her underlings gave her the necklace cursed with angelic magic. Ever the greedy tyrant, she took it without hesitation, and within a month she was dead.

“If Bastian needs angelic magic,” Cadan explained, “he’d want it straight from a Grigori Lord. The Lords hold the secrets of all angelic magic and medicine. The power of the Constantina necklace came from Aldebaran, and in its purest form.”

“Were you around when the relic was created?”

I asked. “No, I’m not that old,” he said. “I was born during the Fourth Crusade.”

I gave a nervous laugh. “Oh, not that old. Only about eight centuries.”

“My father is over a thousand years old,” he mused. “Only the most powerful of my kind live to be ancient.”

I wondered exactly how strong Cadan was. “Is your father still alive?”

He hesitated in answering. “He is.”

“Have you ever met a Grigori?”

“I have.”

When it didn’t appear that he’d elaborate, I asked him, “And?”

“She hates me.”

“Really? That’s so surprising,” I asked, my sarcasm obvious.

“I tried to kill her.” The statement was crisp and matter-of-fact.

“Well, then you can’t blame her.”

He smiled widely and I smiled back. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I hope there’s a good story to go along with that,” I said. “Don’t you humans have a Valentine’s Day ritual coming?” he asked. “I believe I understand how it works. Two of you pair up in the name of love. That would make for a good story. Especially if I were involved.”

I glowered. “Don’t change the subject.”

“You seem so sore. No date?”

“I don’t need one.”

He tilted his head at me with a silly, adorable smile. “I’ll be your valentine.”

I laughed out loud. “Yeah, right. That’ll go over well.”

“It doesn’t sound like you’re against the idea. Do you think your Guardian would be jealous?”

I did my best to give him a serious look as I fought back laughter. “Cadan, you are not going to be my date. And you’re avoiding all of my questions.”

He frowned. “The answers aren’t so exciting, believe me.”

I recalled Ava’s story about the relic guardian. “So, this Grigori who hates you. You aren’t old lovers, are you?”

“No.” He laughed. “No, no. She had something I wanted, and she wouldn’t give it to me. It’s a story for another time.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “If you won’t talk about the Grigori, then I won’t talk about Valentine’s Day.”

That sly smile crept back into his sculpted lips. “I meant it when I said I’d be your date. I love parties. We first met at a party. Don’t you find it oddly romantic?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Odd, yes. Romantic, no.”

He frowned. “That hurts. Really.”

“I’m sure you’ll survive.”

“Speaking of romance,” he started, “are you going to tell me about this book you were so engrossed in that you barely even noticed me?”

I gave him a sidelong glance. “You really want to know?”

“I’d like to understand what captivates you,” he said. “So that I may aspire to do the same.”

“Would you like a little wine to go with all that cheese?” I asked.

“Would you like me better if I were gloomy and morose?” He grinned, his eyes teasing.

“I wouldn’t like you much at all if you were either of those.”

He leaned back and lazily put his elbows up on the back of his chair. “Then what is the appeal of your Guardian? He is quite definitely gloomy and morose.”

I’d let Cadan have one point. “Don’t you think morose is a little severe?”

“You must agree that he is rather moody and glum.”

“He’s not glum.”

His grin widened. “So you admit that he’s gloomy and moody.”

“I never said that.”

“But you don’t deny it.”

I exhaled in annoyance. “You’re obnoxious.”

“But at least I’m not morose.”

“Will isn’t
morose
.”

“Tell me about the book you’re reading.”

I blinked in surprise. Was he serious? He sat beaming with self-satisfaction. Playing games with my head was apparently hilarious. He was insufferable.

“Please?”

I stared at him. He was serious. “Okay then.”

I didn’t even realize what time it was until the librarian came into the room and told us they were closing. I was shocked that I’d had such a good time and that I was sorry it was over.

“And this is where I leave you,” he said, standing.

I followed, watching him carefully. “It was nice talking to you.”

He took my hand and kissed my knuckles, his lips and breath warm. “It’s always a pleasure.”

He stepped aside and held out his arm to allow me first through the door. He followed me out of the library, and I stopped at the bottom of the steps. The night air was very cold, and snow fell generously. I turned toward Cadan and looked up at him. He wasn’t quite as tall as Will, but he was built strong, and he was beautiful.

“Really, Cadan,” I said. “Thank you. I’ve had a pretty bad week, but you made me feel better.”

“Then I can die happy,” he replied dramatically.

I rolled my eyes. “Cut it out. I’m being serious. I enjoyed talking to you.”

He smiled warmly. “I hope we can do it again soon.”

“Are you going to tell me that story?” I teased. “About the Grigori?”

His smile widened. “Maybe. Good night, Ellie.”

“Good night.” I smiled at him before walking away.

I was conflicted. I felt like Cadan was my friend and definitely not my enemy. He was demonic by birth, but there was nothing about him that radiated evil. Will was so sure that demonic reapers only wanted the destruction of the world and my death above all, but Cadan didn’t want to kill me. He’d had a thousand opportunities so far.

Or was I just an incredible fool?

A shadow passed over my head, and I looked up, startled.

A reaper appeared out of the Grim, ash-gray wings spread wide through the falling snow. White-blond hair billowed and settled as the reaper landed. Cold, pale eyes locked on mine.

Ivar. Her body moved so fast that the heavy cloth of the black cloak she wore lifted in the air behind her. The gray furred hood fell off her head as she lunged for me, clawed hand outstretched. I knocked her arm aside, stopping her fingers from clenching around my throat. I scrambled back as she recovered her balance and beat her wings to take another leap for me. Her cloak and dress swelled midflight.

She vanished.

Something invisible struck me viciously in the chest, sending me flying across the empty parking lot. I landed and skidded nearly twenty feet on the slick pavement before I stopped myself and jumped to my feet. I threw off my coat and followed Ivar into the Grim before she could strike me again. Her form materialized, and I whirled out of the way as her talons slashed at my face. She blurred by me, and I took the moment to breathe.

“You crazy psycho!” I shouted at her back. Will was miles away from me. By this time, he would have sensed my distress and be on his way, but until he arrived I’d have to fight Ivar alone.

She spun to face me. Her eyes were bright and wild, her expression twisted with rage. I willed my swords into my hands as she began to circle me. Angelfire erupted and lit up the rage on her face. She held out both arms and long blades appeared.

“He’s
mine
,” she snarled, raising the hair on the back of my neck. She leaped into the air, high over my head, blades diving down at my body. I braced on my heel and summoned my power.

Another sword swung up and clanged against Ivar’s swords between us. She hissed and reeled back, landing a few feet away.

Cadan.

I gaped at him as he stepped between Ivar and me. His own wings—feathers again, the silver-gray flashing gold in the streetlights—stretched out from his back, and he pointed his sword at Ivar. Snowflakes stuck to our hair and clothes.

“You raise your blade to me?” Ivar snarled, her voice shaking with surprise and hurt.

“Ivar,” he bellowed. “What are you doing?”

Her lips pulled back, exposing needlelike fangs. Her blades gleamed as she raised them menacingly. “What are
you
doing? To
me
?”

Cadan glared impatiently, the annoyance plain in his face. “I haven’t done anything to you.”

“Haven’t you?” Her voice cracked with desperation.

Suddenly I understood, and it was all very disturbing. This was not a love triangle I wanted to be caught up in. Perhaps love wasn’t the right word—it was more like a psycho-demonic-reaper-obsession triangle.

“You’ve lost your mind, Ivar,” he said, folding and lowering his wings. He may have meant the gesture to make him appear less aggressive, but he looked no less frightening.

She laughed high and smoothly. “And you? Spending quality time with the Preliator? Our eternal enemy? You’ve lost
your
mind, Cadan.”

“None of you would unders—”

“If Bastian only knew.”

“He doesn’t have to know.”

“You shame him!”
she screeched. “And me! I love you, Cadan!”

His jaw tightened and he swallowed.

“Okay,” I said slowly. “This is clearly none of my business, so I’ll just go.” I started to back away, but Ivar jumped into the air and landed right behind me. I threw my swords up, ready to defend myself.

“I refuse to watch you with her,” Ivar said, stepping toward me, her eyes on me. “She’s an archangel, Cadan. You know how wrong this is! You know that you belong to me!”

His gaze darkened, and his opal eyes blazed with fire of every color, the light bright in the darkness. “I belong to no one.”

“Tell me you love me,” she begged. “Say it, and I won’t harm her this night.”

I looked at Cadan, who’d stepped up to my side. Ivar’s expression was wiped clean of the disgust and rage. She waited and I held my breath so that the only thing I heard was my heart pounding in my chest. She was about to kill me.

“Cadan, I really think you should say it,” I suggested.

“Not now, Ellie.” His voice was cold. For the first time since I’d met him, it was clear he was in no mood to joke.

Ivar’s lip curled. “What will it be?”

He remained silent.

“Then so be it,” she said.

Her wings spread and flapped, sending her body rocketing toward me, swords flying. I ducked under one blade and Cadan’s sword stopped her other. I slashed a sword across her face, and she stumbled back with a grunt but stayed standing, cheek bleeding. She righted herself and blasted her power into Cadan’s chest, blowing him away from us. She charged, snarling in rage, and cracked her elbow into my cheek. I hit the ground hard. Dazed, I barely saw Ivar drive her blade down at my face—but Cadan, appearing between us in a flash, shoved his sword into her chest. She doubled over, her hair brushing my face, and her arms hung limp at her sides. Blood dribbled from her lips and poured down Cadan’s sword. The seconds dragged on as she lost her strength to keep her swords and they slipped back into nothingness. I scrambled away and climbed to my feet.

Cadan stood and tugged his sword from her body. Things cracked inside, and she cried out in agony, falling onto her knees. Her body suddenly lurched upright, but she lost her balance and staggered back, nearly collapsing again. Her hand clutched the wound in her chest as blood seeped from it. She lifted her head heavily and stared at Cadan. The look in her eyes broke my heart, despite my hatred for her.