She wished her heart would just go ahead and jump out of her chest. Whatever he’d fed her had to be worse than any landing and… Ohhhh, another wave of agony crashed through her.
Yes, this was it. The very end. After all the battles she’d survived, all the hardships, she hated that she was going out this way. With such a bang, har-har. She hadn’t had a chance to visit her parents’ graves. She hadn’t destroyed the demon who’d killed them, because he had never returned for her, and trapped in the institution as she’d been, she hadn’t been able to hunt him. Not that she would have known how. She hadn’t gotten to tell her brother goodbye, even though he wouldn’t have said a word in response.
The ground loomed ever closer. So green, so lovely, making a mockery of her forced calm. Her eyes burned, teared. Her chest constricted. Closer…any moment…
“I’m sorry,” Zacharel said just before twisting, placing his back to the ground and her focus on the sky, a haze of pretty blue and white. Thick clouds, puffed in every direction. “The pain you are about to suffer, transient as it will be… I’m sorry,” he repeated.
“Don’t be. You did everything you could—”
He tensed, and she knew. Impact.
Boom! They smacked into tree after tree, jostling them one way and then the other, breath exploding from them both, mingling, until there was nothing left to exhale— Oh, wait, a harder smack than before proved her wrong, completely emptying out her lungs.
She and Zacharel rolled down, down, hitting branch after branch, not really losing momentum before they…boom! The final impact proved far more jarring, harder, harsher. But then they stopped. Just stopped.
A spiderweb of black wove through her vision. She concentrated on regaining the use of her lungs, inhaling, exhaling, too fast at first, but gradually slowing, evening out. Minutes stretched into hours, hours into eternity before she found the strength to sit up. A mistake. A tide of dizziness swept over her, turning her world upside down. She was wet, soaked actually. And oh, baby, here was the promised pain. A kaleidoscope of burning, aching and throbbing.
Wincing, she scanned the surrounding area.
Broken tree limbs overhead provided a perfect path for the sun, allowing hot rays to lick over her, spotlighting her. In front of her, a forest loomed. Leaves of dewy emerald brushed together, and wildflowers perfumed the air.
Beside her…beside her sprawled Zacharel, his eyes closed, his body motionless. Both of his wings were bent at odd angles, the robe he wore no longer white but crimson.
Blood, so much blood. Everywhere. All over her—because of him. It leaked from his mouth, dripped from his ears, and where the fabric of his robe was ripped, great tides of it overflowed, reminding her of corroded water from a spout. His torso was mutilated, one of his thighs split open. His ankle, broken. The bone had sliced through his skin, the edges jagged, chips missing.
Her parents, ripped open, staring at nothing.
Her parents, lying in a congealing pool.
A hysterical laugh bubbled from her. Once again Annabelle would walk away from a gruesome scene without much damage to herself.
No. No! she thought then. She wouldn’t leave Zacharel like this. Wouldn’t let him die.
He’s already dead, common sense piped up.
No! her stubborn core replied. She hadn’t known him long, but he’d twice saved her life. He’d taken care of her. He, the man who claimed to have killed his own brother. He, the man who said he could kill her without hesitation. He, the man who never lied. She wouldn’t fall into the trap of trying to humanize him, assigning him acceptable reasons for threatening her, but she wouldn’t leave him, either. He’d done his best to protect her.
Annabelle lumbered to her knees and checked his pulse. The beat was thready, but there. There was hope!
God, if You’re listening, thank You! With shaking hands, she put Zacharel back together as best she could, gagging, crying. Just…stay with us a little longer. He needs help.