Broken Wings (An Angel Eyes Novel)

38

Jake

They reach Main Street unscathed. Jake’s about three strides behind Canaan, and they move fast. Only someone who’s really seen Canaan run would know he’s working hard to keep his pace reasonable. Pearla, for her part, has stayed invisible to their human eyes. Jake’s not seen her since they left the covering of the trees, but he knows she’s there. Believes it with all his heart.

They catch several wary glances as they hurl themselves down Main. Jake ducks his head and presses on, veering into the road to avoid the ever-present table of old men enjoying their donuts and coffee.

“Donut, Jake?” Bob yells.

“Not today, gents.”

Canaan turns down a side street, his pace quickening as they enter the thin alley backing the stores on Main. Jake pumps his legs harder as they pass the rear of Jelly’s. He hops a stack of flattened cardboard boxes and clips his knee on a discarded street sign. And that’s when Canaan skids to a stop. The rubber tears free of the toe on Jake’s right Chuck as he slides through the dry dust on the alley floor, but he manages to stop just short of Canaan’s left shoulder, coughing with exertion.

Pearla stands before him in her human form, her dark face ashen. He catches only one word. “Transfer.”

Jake doesn’t have time to steel himself before he’s wrapped in Canaan’s wings and lifted into the sky. He sees Jelly’s, its neon lights strangely magnified in the Celestial. The enormous grape jelly jar is there, a smear of violet against a backdrop of orange marmalade. Canaan continues toward the diner, toward the very end of Main Street. From there it’s just a short flight up the highway to Brielle’s.

Below Jake the Photo Depot, The Donut Factory, Miss Macy’s, the community center—they all glow bright, a variety of occupants within shading the skies with various hues. To his right, beyond the community center, the small church is nestled in a rainbow of color.

He loves the sight of Stratus lit up with God’s glory, but the anxiety eating away at his gut leaves little room for adoration. Especially when a blotch of darkness skates across his line of sight.

His heart redoubles its efforts, but a second glance shows him a familiar face.

Pearla.

Her wings are fast. Faster even than Helene’s.

She tucks them close and falls away, her voice ringing in Jake’s head.

“Behind you.”

Jake’s stomach is in his mouth as they tumble after her. Canaan collapses his large outer wings, covering Jake’s body and erasing the world from sight. His stomach tells him they’re cartwheeling through the sky, but he sees the underside of Canaan’s wings. Nothing more.

And then with a jolt that vibrates through his bones, Canaan’s outer wings slam open to reveal a set of snapping fangs. Jake tries to backpedal, but he’s immovable against Canaan’s chest. Fangs flash and talons reach, but before they can find purchase, Jake is lifted up and away as Canaan soars over the demon’s head.

The demon turns, but he’s not nearly fast enough. With a flash of white light, Canaan draws his sword and drags it down the demon, separating the fallen one in two.

Ash fills the air as the demon is reduced to sparking embers.

Canaan turns toward Jelly’s once again.

Hang on, Elle, Jake thinks. We’re almost there.

But the thought shatters like a tray of dropped ice. The roof of Jelly’s is graced with two demons, their scimitars drawn and smoking in the hot celestial air. The larger of the two has a hand clamped around the neon tubing of the jelly jar. The other hunches below on the roof, his wings hanging at his sides, black and tattered. Canaan doesn’t slow, and Jake presses against him, nearly climbing up his chest to be free of danger. Scripture leaps from his tongue.

“He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge; His faithfulness will be your shield.”

The two demons lunge at once, and Canaan swipes in a wide arc. His sword catches the wing joint of the smaller demon, and he spins, trying to regain control. The larger one loses half a leg. Sulfur spews into the atmosphere, stinging Jake’s nostrils and sending tears streaming down his cheeks.

Both demons mount a second attack. The one with the broken wing is gimpy, flying lopsided and angry, but he presses closer as Canaan focuses on his companion. Jake’s hands ball into fists and he prays harder.

A black smear speeds into his vision.

Pearla!

But she’s so small. No weapon. Two delicate wings.

What is she doing?

She dives between the demons and Canaan. Her presence seems to confuse the Fallen, and they pull up.

They think she’s one of theirs!

The larger of the two tilts his head, ape-like, and lowers his sword. It’s just a momentary lapse, but it’s all the time Canaan needs. He shoots forward, grabbing the demon’s lowered scimitar in his left hand and shoving it upward. With his right hand, Canaan swings his own sword wide. Simultaneously, the demons are sliced through—one through the chest, the smaller one losing his head. Their forms hiss and smoke, but Canaan’s past them already, leaving Jelly’s and Main Street behind.