Wings of the Wicked

33





I’D NEVER HUGGED KATE SO HARD IN MY LIFE. SHE was amazing. We both cried so much that we had to go inside and redo our makeup, but that was okay. The boys didn’t quite understand why we cried, but that was okay, too. Will and Marcus hung out together in the we-ancient-angelic-reapersare-too-cool-for-you-but-that-really-just-means-we’re-boring club, away from most of us as we goofed around and had pictures taken. It was so nice of Marcus to let Will use his car, but he wasn’t above bantering with Will about it every few minutes. Finally we all climbed into the limousine that would take us to the hotel. None of my friends treated me like a freak, or like they needed to walk on eggshells around me. They treated me like Ellie, just plain old me.

The hotel was beautiful and the hall the dance was held in was decorated with silver and midnight-blue silk streamers, balloons, drapes, and tablecloths. Hanging from the ceiling in the same colors were pretty paper lanterns shaped like jagged stars and orblike moons. At the front of the hall were a fondue table, a dance floor, and a DJ setup. My group found our table and sat down. While we waited for our dinners, we talked about the high school years we were leaving behind and the college years ahead of us. Kate and I were going to State together and were determined to be roommates. Landon had a full soccer scholarship there as well, and Chris was going to school an hour west of State. Everything seemed to be falling into place. And then I would glance at Will beside me, who watched me curiously, not as if he found it all funny, but more as if he marveled at me.

After dinner, Kate grabbed my hand and dragged me and Rachel toward the dance floor with everyone else. We joked around and danced like idiots, twirling each other around, not caring if we annoyed the gross couples booty-grinding each other. If they didn’t like us, they could leave—which was what we wanted them to do anyway. I looked back to our table, where Will and Marcus still sat like bumps on a log. Their faces were close as they talked, and when I caught Will’s eyes, he grinned mischievously at me. I took Kate’s arm and pulled her over.

“They’re plotting something,” I said into her ear.

She narrowed her eyes at them. “They sure are. They are up to no good at all.”

After more exchanges of words, they both rose from the table. Will eased his way toward me, moving around people and obstacles. I looked over at Marcus, who rounded the dance floor and made his way to the DJ. He said something to the guy, who nodded a moment later, and then the music changed. I listened to the new music, which was buried beneath the chorus of groans and F-bombs from everyone else, trying to figure out which song it had changed to, and after a few notes, I realized it was completely different. It was a waltz.

Will held his hand out to me and smiled beautifully. “May I have this dance?”

It took everything in me to keep myself from crying again as I nodded and let him take my hand. He pulled me close, his eyes bright and locked on mine. He stepped back, guiding me toward the slowly clearing floor, and his other hand clasped around mine to take the lead. Then we moved, spinning, stepping into a dance my grandfather had taught me when I was a little girl. I was a little unsure on my feet, but Will moved as if he’d done it every day for a hundred years, with a flawless grace that surprised me, made me lose myself completely in the dance, in his face. He was still smiling at me, and we stepped into perfect rhythm with the beautiful music as it led us both like a summer breeze. I felt myself blushing, and I looked away as he twirled me and paused to kiss my cheek. I laughed and he squeezed my hand. Then I noticed that the floor was completely empty, and my nerves were suddenly on fire. Faces surrounded us, watching us dance, and my body locked up with fright.

“Ellie,” he whispered, and I trembled in his arms.

I looked up into his face and I was brought back to him fully, his voice always capturing me without fail. He spun me around again, and I was lost in the music once more. When the song ended, the hall was silent for the longest moment of my life, and his lips found mine. He kissed me sweetly, in front of everyone, one hand on my waist, the other tight around my own. A storm of emotion—joy, sadness, exhaustion—twisted and rushed through me, so much that I couldn’t breathe or stand without threatening to fall, and a tear spilled down my cheek as he kissed me. When he pulled away, his eyes were blazing green, practically glowing in the dark ballroom.

“Are you happy?” he asked, his voice gentle and eager.

I nodded and smiled, my entire body rushing with heat and wings. “Yes. I’ve never been happier in my life.” I was laughing and crying then, even as the song changed back to the modern, upbeat music the DJ had been playing all night and everyone else spilled back onto the dance floor with us. As I let myself drown out the voices and faces and music consuming the hall, I never wanted the moment to end. I believed, in that moment, that everything we’d endured for hundreds of years together, that it was all building up to this moment, always predestined, always meant to be. We were kissing again, arms wrapped around each other, pulling away and smiling, his fingers in my hair, my hands on his shoulders, kissing and laughing. I held him tight, memorizing the moment, the feel of him, the curve of his smile, the sound of his voice, and nothing else existed in the entire world but him and me.

Back at Kate’s for the after party, I was rejuvenated. We were all much more relaxed, and Will took off his tie and unbuttoned his collar, complaining that it’d been strangling him all night. While the boys untucked their dress shirts, we girls all stayed in our gowns, getting as much use out of them as possible, but by this time we’d all taken off our heels, to give our feet a break.

As the night wore on and I’d had enough of dancing and beer pong, I found Will and eased up to him. I pressed my hands into his chest and slid them south. A playful grin toyed with the corners of his mouth as I bit my lower lip and slipped the tips of my fingers into his waistband. I tugged him closer to me. “I need some air,” I said with an edge to my voice. “Do you need some air?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I need some air.”

I walked backward, dragging him along by his pants. “Let’s go get some air.”

Outside, the air was cool but tolerable, and just enough to wake us both up. It was quiet besides our soft laughter, and when we came to a stop, he wrapped a hand around my cheek, smoothing his thumb across my skin.

“Did you have a good time?” he asked.

“Tonight was amazing,” I replied with a smile. “Thank you, Will. For everything. You are wonderful.”

“I just want you to be happy and safe.”

“With you, I am.”

He smiled. “Good.” He kissed me and I threw my arms around his neck.

“I think,” I said as I pulled back to look into his face, “that we should go back to your house soon.”

His smile widened. “Yeah?”

I nodded, but the happiness in his expression faded to a frown. He pulled back and his shoulders became rigid. I stared at him and his jaw tightened.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, running my fingers up and down his neck soothingly.

He let out an annoyed grunt and squeezed me a little tighter. “Cadan. I’m going to kick his ass. Again.”

I laughed. “Why?”

“He tried to kiss you.”

I rolled my eyes. I knew him well enough to know it was all just hot air. “So? I didn’t let him.”

“Doesn’t matter.” His expression and hold on me softened. He kissed my hair and said against it, “You’re still mine.”

Being sweet wasn’t going to make me forget his threat. “I’m so tired of this macho male ridiculousness. If you hit him, I hope he hits you back.”

“Me too. Then I’ll hit him even harder.”

I glared up at him and he grinned at me. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Well, you’re mine,” he repeated, softer now, dipping his face to mine. “And kissing you is my job.”

“Is it now?”

“Mmm-hmm,” he murmured, and kissed me, luxuriously slow.

“So sweet” came a deep, growling voice from the trees.

Will and I sprang apart, startled, and shock waves of terror ripped through my body. Demonic power slithered through the grass toward our feet like a mob of snakes.

It was Merodach. His horned, winged form was cast blue in the moonlight, his dark skin gleaming and sporting the angelfire scar I gave him. Behind him was the spike-headed Rikken, his mouth dribbling thick saliva down his chin.

Will threw a protective arm over me and stepped forward. How had they found me? I didn’t want to fight. I wanted the demonic reapers to go away. This night had been too perfect, too incredible—too good to be true. This couldn’t be happening. I didn’t want to fight tonight. I just wanted to be with Will … for one night of peace and happiness…. That was all I wanted, and I couldn’t have anything I wanted. Hell had to ruin everything.

“The war is nigh, Preliator, and the storm is coming,” Merodach boomed, his power pressing on my skin like cold, heavy snow.

“Did you come all the way out here just to tell us the forecast?” Will snarled, charging right into battle mode, his sweetness and tenderness only a faint memory now. An instant was all it took for him to become prepared to kill.

Merodach snapped his eyes to Will. “I have come to finish what I started. Sammael and Lilith have no use for you, Guardian. They require the vessel of Gabriel only.”

“Your boss is dead,” I shouted at him. “Bastian is gone, so why are you still trying to capture me?”

“Bastian was naught but a foolish pawn,” Merodach said defiantly. “He was never in control. I am in control, and I want you to suffer. Rikken, make the Guardian bleed.”

It all happened so fast, I hadn’t even had time to react. Rikken vanished and reappeared directly in front of Will. Will threw a punch, and Rikken ducked and grabbed his left arm. His grasp was firm, and then he sank his teeth into Will’s forearm. Will shouted out in pain and protest before ripping his arm back. Rikken grinned, baring teeth as Will’s blood dribbled past his lips, mixing with the viscous drool that always seemed to be pouring from his mouth. Will stared in astonishment at the bite in his arm, at the torn tissue and blood seeping from the wound. It didn’t look like something he would bleed to death from, but he looked more pissed off and surprised than in pain. He growled a curse and shot forward. His punch slammed into Rikken’s face—through it—and the demonic reaper’s head exploded as if Will’s fist were dynamite. Rikken’s skull erupted into chunks of rock and his back hit the ground, his stone body shattering on impact. Rikken was gone in a heartbeat.

Will came to a stop and staggered, staring at the ground. I watched him, confused, as he wobbled like he’d just spun in circles and was dizzy. I moved toward him, staring at him. Before I could ask if he was okay, he lifted his head heavily, his lips parted, brow furrowed, and his eyes met mine. The green was dulling quickly, and my heart slammed in my chest. Then Will collapsed.

My mouth opened to scream and my lungs burned as if fire flashed through them, but I heard nothing. My arms flailed in front of him, grabbing hold of him as he hit the ground, and I fell with him. He lay there, his body shuddering and his eyes rolling into the back of his head. My hands touched his cheeks and neck and forehead as I stared frantically into his face. Merodach stood behind me, but I’d forgotten him.

Sound surged through my ears, and I was drowning in my own keening wail as tears rolled down my face and into the corners of my mouth. The brutal taste of salt on my lips shook me awake and back to reality. The blood from Rikken’s bite seeping out of Will’s arm ran down the front of my dress, staining the plum chiffon black-red.

“Will,” I sobbed, my hands shaking. “Will!”

His head moved side to side, his mouth opening and shutting, and sweat beaded around his brow. He was in pain. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides and I picked up the hand of his uninjured arm, locking my fingers through his as he squeezed. He opened his eyes briefly to look up into my face, and my lips went numb when I saw his irises had dulled to a pathetic gray.

“What did that thing do?” I screamed at Merodach. “What did you do to him?”

Behind me, Merodach laughed, his heavy, gravelly voice so loud and deep that it weighed me down and disoriented me. “You should have heeded Kelaeno’s warning. She may be dead, but soon your Guardian will join her.”

“No!” I screamed it over and over.

“I’ll come back for you, Gabriel,” Merodach added. “Once your heart is dead from the loss of your Guardian, I’ll be back for your soul.”

Will groaned, and his grip on my hand slackened and went limp. I touched his cheeks and neck and chest, my gaze lingering fearfully on the vicious wound in his arm. On the thick clear liquid from Rikken’s bite mixing with Will’s blood.

“I don’t know what to do!” I cried. “Please tell me, Will. I don’t know how to help you!” I leaned over him and kissed his cheeks and forehead, holding his body close to mine as the ache in my heart crippled me.

He was slipping away, weakening by the moment. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t lose him after everything, after all of this. Merodach stepped away and spread his dark wings wide before vanishing into the Grim, leaving me alone on the cold ground with Will dying in my arms.

I smoothed his hair away from his clammy forehead with my palm, and then he began convulsing. I screamed, but my wails were drowned by the thumping music pouring out of Kate’s house. Liquid oozed from the bite in Will’s arm, and it grew darker by the moment until it was black mixing with the red of Will’s blood. The wound wasn’t healing.

“Ellie?” came a frightened voice behind me.

I snapped my head around to see Marcus jogging toward me, his gleaming sapphire eyes locked on Will’s shuddering form. My own body was shaking uncontrollably as Marcus knelt on the other side of Will, one hand on his chest and the other on his face.

“What’s wrong?” Marcus asked, the fear clear on his face. Of course a reaper would be the only one to hear my screams. “What happened?”

“Rikken bit him!” I wailed. “And he collapsed! I don’t know what’s wrong! I don’t know how to help him!”

If even a single word of what I’d just said was comprehensible, it would’ve been a miracle. Marcus stared at Will, carefully inspecting the wound in his arm.

“Hold his head still,” he directed. When I just sat there, sobbing, he repeated the order more firmly. “Ellie! Hold his head still. He’s seizing. If you want him to live, then you’ve got to pull yourself together. I’ll be right back. Can you handle this?”

No. I nodded anyway, choking on a sob. Marcus vanished and I was alone again, breaking apart bit by bit. I couldn’t lose Will. I couldn’t. For the past few months, I’d tried to force myself into believing that I didn’t need him, but it was all a lie. I needed his comfort, but I could only sit there on the ground in my prom dress as the air grew steadily colder and watch him die.

Marcus came back and put his hand on my arm. “Come on. Let’s get him into the car.” He ripped off the sleeve of his tuxedo and wrapped it around Will’s arm like a tourniquet. The wound wouldn’t heal. Will’s wounds—even the ones a hundred times more severe than this—always healed. He was always fine. He always got better.

Marcus lifted Will’s limp form and threw him over his shoulder. We rounded the front of the house and wove our way through a crowd of kids holding plastic cups. Kate’s red BMW sat in the driveway, and I opened the back door and Marcus laid Will across the seat. I climbed into the back with him as Marcus jumped into the driver’s seat. Will was semiconscious. His head rolled left and right as he groaned in agony. I held his face in my hands and murmured to him. I kissed his cheek, but he didn’t respond to me.

“Will,” I said firmly, turning his face to mine. “Will!”

He tried to tear his head from my hands as he ground his teeth together.

“Will!” I cried again, but he was unresponsive. “Will, damn it. You’ve been telling me all this time to keep fighting. Don’t you give up on me!”

“We’re going back to the house,” Marcus said from the front seat. “Rikken bit him, right?”

“Yes.” I met his eyes in the rearview mirror.

“It must be poison of some kind. Venom.”

A rush of coldness swept through me, and the blood drained from my face. “Your strength in heart and hand will fall to a reaper’s bane,” Kelaeno had said. The prophecy. It was all coming true.

He dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed. “Ava. Find Sabina and get to the house as quickly as you can. Will is wounded. I’ll explain when you get there. Yes, she’s with me. Just get to the house.” He hung up.

I swallowed hard. “Will Ava know how to help him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Will Sabina?”

“I don’t know.”

Marcus drove fast—inhumanly fast. When we blurred into the driveway of Nathaniel’s house, Marcus wasted no time, jumping out of the car to help me get Will out of the backseat. He moaned, and his tuxedo was damp with sweat. Ava and Sabina were waiting on the front porch, their expressions hardened and focused instead of mirroring the fear and grief on my own. I watched them carry Will into the kitchen and lay him on the dining table. I was trembling head to toe.

“What happened?” Ava asked, examining Will’s bite wound.

“Merodach,” I squeaked. “And Rikken. They ambushed us. Rikken bit him.”

“Rikken?” Sabina repeated. “That was the name of the reaper?”

I nodded, my eyes on Will’s shuddering form.

“I know him,” she said. “No one has survived a bite from Rikken.”

A wail escaped from me and Marcus stomped in front of me, snarling at Sabina. “That is not helping. What’s the matter with you?”

Her mouth opened and her eyes widened as if she didn’t know what she’d just said. “I—I’m sorry. Rikken’s venom takes about a week to kill. We have that long to save the Guardian.”

A week. A week left for Will to live. A week of horrific torture and pain. I was starting to hyperventilate.

“I’ll be right back,” Marcus said, touching my cheek to reassure me. “I have to return Kate’s car to her and bring my own back before she gets suspicious and wonders where you and Will are. The less she knows, the better.”

I nodded and chewed on my bottom lip as it trembled against another sob building in my throat. Marcus disappeared, and a quiver of despair shot through me. My face was sticky with tears and smeared makeup, but I didn’t care that I looked like a train wreck. Sabina and Ava turned back to the table and began removing Will’s jacket. He shuddered with every breath, and his eyes were closed tightly with pain. I didn’t know if he was conscious.

Ava held out her hand and summoned her sword. She leaned over Will and touched the blade to his chest.

I was there in a flash, my sword in my hand, the tip pressed into Ava’s jugular. She froze in place and looked at me out the corner of her eye. “What are you doing?” I snarled hoarsely through my tears.

“I need to see how badly it has spread,” she responded in a calm voice.

For a moment, I felt absurd pointing a sword at Ava’s throat while wearing my prom dress. It was ripped and bloodied—completely destroyed. I looked from Ava to Will and back again.

“Ellie?”

I startled, letting my weapon disappear and nodding numbly. She eyed me for a few more seconds before drawing her blade across Will’s sleeve, carefully cutting it open to reveal the terrible wound on his arm. She removed the cloth of his shirt until he was naked from the waist up. When I saw his skin, my heart lodged in my throat. Black spiderweblike lines extended up his wounded arm and across his chest, pooling thickly over his heart. The black lines traced every vein and artery beneath his skin, and a powerful memory struck me hard: The day of my seventeenth birthday, in the girls’ room, the same spidery lines had covered my face the way they covered Will’s body. Had I foreseen the same event that Kelaeno had prophesied? Had the darkness I originally saw in myself really been a warning?

Your strength in heart and hand will fall….

Ava was saying something to Sabina and possibly to me, but I couldn’t hear a word. I was shaking, staring at Will as his body trembled and his head thrashed from side to side in agony.

“Ellie. Ellie!”

I was brought back to my senses at Ava’s sharp voice barking my name.

“Sabina, get her out of here,” Ava growled. “She can’t handle this.”

“No!” I flailed against Sabina as she turned me around. “Let go of me!” I shoved Sabina in the chest and she lost her balance. Stepping back, I slammed into Marcus’s body as he appeared in the doorway. His hands grabbed a firm hold of my shoulders.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his voice and expression filled with concern.

I shoved him off me. “Nothing! I’ll just go.”

Marcus blinked at me and exchanged glances with Ava. “Why? We need you here.”

“No, you don’t,” I snarled back. “I’m going to do something about this. Give me your keys.”

“To my car?”

“Yes!” I held out my hand. “Give them to me before I take them from you!”

He dropped the keys into my palm. “I don’t know where you’re going, but please, for the love of God, don’t scratch my car.”

I made an ugly noise and stomped past him. I yanked open the door of Marcus’s Maserati and threw myself into the seat. I wasn’t even sure I remembered how to drive a stick like this. My dad had taught me how, but that was so long ago. My knees curled up to my chest, and I buried my face in my hands. I let myself cry for just a minute, just long enough to clear my thoughts for an instant, just long enough to remember something that Will had said to me months ago, something I already knew.

The Maserati’s tires squealed as I peeled out of the driveway. The car had a voice-recognition satellite phone built into it. I instructed the car to dial a number.

After one ring at the other end of the line, a slightly surprised voice answered, “This had better be a booty call.”

“Cadan.” I was exhausted and irritated, my voice barely able to work. “Where are you?”

“So it is a booty call.”

“Cadan!” I shouted, half sobbing. I took a deep breath to calm myself. “This is serious. Where are you?”

A hesitation. “My apartment. In Troy.”

“What’s the address?”

I barged through the door of his apartment and moved through the entry into the living area. He stood in the center of the room, one hand holding a glass of deep gold liquid, the other in his pocket. His fiery opal eyes opened wide as he registered my terrible appearance, my ripped and bloodied dress, my makeup smeared with tears down my cheeks.

A look of horror and sadness overcame him. “Ellie?”

I was sick of everyone saying my name but Will. His voice was the only one I wanted to hear, calm and serene as he always was, not moaning in pain trapped within some internal Hell.

“Are you okay?” His voice was gentle, as if he were speaking to a frightened, cornered animal. He set down his glass. “What can I do?”

I lifted my arm and willed a single Khopesh sword into my hand. Angelfire blazed, lighting up his surprised face, and my power spiraled around me, lifting my tangled hair and the shredded folds of my dress.

He stared at me, fearing what might come from my threat. “You don’t ever need to raise your sword to me.”

“Will is dying,” I said, my voice withering. “Did you speak the truth when you said you know a Grigori?”

He hesitated before he nodded. “Yes.”

I swallowed hard, shaking. “You have to take me to the Grigori. I don’t care what it takes. I’ll do anything. You have to help me save him.”



About the Author


COURTNEY ALLISON MOULTON lives in Michigan, where she is a photographer and spends all her free time riding and showing horses. She is the author of ANGELFIRE and WINGS OF THE WICKED, and she is hard at work on her next novel. For more information about Courtney, visit her online at www.courtneyallisonmoulton.com.


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