Wings of the Wicked

by Courtney Allison Moulton

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.

  “Why?” she sputtered.

  Cadan’s expression remained cruelly resolute as he stepped up to her and raised his sword again, the blade glossy and wet with Ivar’s blood.

  Her eyes were glued to his. “You’re going to kill me?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “But I can’t let you go back to Bastian knowing what you know. I can’t let any of this happen.”

  He swung, lightning fast, sweeping the blade through her neck cleanly. Her head slipped free, hit the ground, and rolled away, her pale hair streaked with red. Her body hardened to stone, and as she collapsed, it shattered into a thousand pieces.

  I shut my eyes for just a moment, feeling Ivar’s pain echoing through my heart. When I opened them again, I saw that Cadan hadn’t moved except to let his arms hang heavily. He stared at Ivar’s remains and said nothing.

  I stepped closer to him, reaching out a hand to touch him, but he jerked away from me. “Cadan—?”

  He turned his face only slightly in my direction, but it was enough for me to see the shattering pain across his face. With that look, I wondered if he might have loved Ivar once or if something had happened between them.

  “Don’t, Ellie,” he said. His voice wasn’t cold or cruel, just full of hurt.

  I studied his face carefully, perplexed by what had just happened. “Are you okay?”

  His fiery eyes were dull, and he didn’t look away from me. Snowflakes clung to his hair. “No.”

  His wings spread and he leaped into the air, disappearing from sight as he melted into the Grim.

  And then it was just me and Ivar’s crumbled remains. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, just sat there on the cold pavement as the snow settled on me. The cold was beginning to affect me, but I couldn’t bring myself to move to reach my coat.

  “Ellie?”

  I blinked at the sound of my name. My first thought was that Cadan had come back, but then I saw Will running toward me.

  “Ellie,” he called again as he reached me and dropped to his knees. He inspected me as usual, but I didn’t even have a scratch on me. Thanks to Cadan. Fuzz balls swarmed in my head again as the reality hit me.

  “What happened?” Will asked. “Are you hurt?”

  I shook my head. “He killed her.”

  “Who?” he asked, brushing my hair out of my face. “Who killed who?” He noticed my shivering and grabbed my coat and wrapped it around my shoulders. It didn’t help at all.

  “Cadan,” I said robotically, still staring at the stone pile in front of me. “He killed Ivar.”

  Will paused, maybe to absorb the absurd truth I’d just given him. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. She was going to tell Bastian that Cadan has been talking to me and then she attacked me. He stopped her from doing both. He killed her to protect me.”

  “Ivar’s dead,” Will said in disbelief. “And Cadan tracked you down again? Ellie, you can’t—”

  “It’s not like that,” I interjected. “He’s helped me! The necklace Zane was protecting, it was made by Aldebaran, the Lord of the East, and it’s cursed with some seriously strong mojo. It’s the real deal, and Cadan warned me that the same demonic vir who took Zane out will be coming for me next. Their names are Merodach and Kelaeno, and they’ve got almost everything they need for Bastian. Cadan killed Ivar to protect the information he told me, so don’t just dismiss this.”

  Will’s jaw tightened. “All right. We’ll look into this with Nathaniel, but please don’t see Cadan alone again. Please.”

  “It’s not like I’m going looking for him,” I grumbled. “Cadan really wants to help us. He’s risking his life to do so.”

  Another long silence. I couldn’t blame him. I wouldn’t have believed me, either. At least there was one less of Bastian’s lackeys to worry about. A demonic reaper asked to be my valentine and then killed his crazy ex-girlfriend to save my life. Tomorrow I was starting up antipsychotic meds.

  “Let’s get you home before your fingers freeze off,” Will suggested. He stood and took my hand, then helped me to my feet, and we walked to my car in silence.

  12

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING AGAIN?” WILL ASKED IN A bored voice, on the other side of my closet door. “A Valentine’s Day party?”

  I rolled my eyes as I shimmied the red strapless sheath dress up and over my hips. The difficulty in accomplishing this made me wish I’d started putting it on over my head. “It is not a Valentine’s Day party. That would be lame.”

  He laughed. “It’s the same thing.”

  “No, it’s not,” I grumbled. “This is a Hearts Afire party. Totally different.”

  “How is it different? Valentine’s Day is in a few days.”

  “It’s a Hearts Afire party.” The seam along the side of the dress was ruched and allowed a little movement, and the pencil shape gave me more of an hourglass figure than I had in normal clothes. I leaned against the closet shelves to keep my balance as I slipped on a pair of black heels.

  All I needed now was someone to zip up my dress in the back. I examined myself vainly from every angle in the floor-length mirror hooked onto the back of my closet door. It used to be on the other side of my door, but the more Will hung out over here while I was getting ready, the more I had needed to switch it so I could change in private. I had to make sure I looked good before leaving the closet. “Why do you care anyway?”

  “You go to these parties a lot.”

  “Do not. This is my first party in practically a month.”

  “Didn’t Kate have a party two weeks ago?”

  I glowered. “That was in January. It’s February now. What are you going to do when I’m at college and go to parties three nights a week? You’re going to go crazy.”

  “I hope you can fit patrolling in between all these future parties.”

  “I live like five different lives. I’m the goddess of multitasking. You know this.”

  I opened the closet door and stepped out. Heat flushed through me when Will’s eyes went wide and he gaped at me from my desk chair.

  I strode across the room toward him, my hand pinning the front of my dress to my chest. “I need your help.”

  “What?” His eyebrows lifted almost imperceptibly, but there was no way I could have missed that look.

  I chomped on the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning like an idiot and turned my back to him. “Zip me?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  The heat of his gaze on my back was scorching as he stood up. His fingers brushed my bare skin as he zipped up the remaining inches of my open dress.

  “You look … beautiful,” he said softly, the breath of his words on my neck.

  I inhaled deeply and swallowed hard as I imagined him drawing the zipper in the opposite direction and his lips touching the place his breath had warmed. Things fluttered in my
chest, and I shivered. “Thank you.”

  He didn’t step away and I didn’t move for the longest, most excruciating moment. At last I turned to my dresser to touch up my makeup in the mirror. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye and grinned, my confidence returning.

  “You’ve got a little drool,” I teased, tapping the corner of my mouth. “Right here.”

  His cheeks actually grew rosy and he gave a nervous laugh as he sat back down on the chair. “You’re funny. Really.”

  I looked back into the mirror and applied another coat of mascara. My heart pounded as I tried to be fearless. “Not as funny as your face right now.”

  “How can you walk in those heels?” he asked, changing the subject.

  “You have entirely too little faith in me.” I turned around to look at his outfit. I grimaced. “Is that what you’re wearing? Really?”

  He frowned and looked down at his jeans and long-sleeved tee. “What’s wrong with it?”

  I tilted my head to examine him. “You look normal. You don’t look afire at all. At least your shirt is black. Dress code said red or black only. Anything else will get you thrown out, just warning you.”

  “Ellie,” he said, sucking in his top lip, “I know you love these parties and I don’t mind going with you. I prefer being with you. But I hate it when you make me dress up for them. That’s just not me.”

  I stepped toward him and ran my hand through his hair, something that I knew calmed him—and me. He closed his eyes, and butterflies danced through my belly. “I’m sorry. I just really like to torture you.”

  He opened his green eyes to meet mine, but he didn’t respond. This was the first time I’d really looked into his face since the night he told me he’d slept with Ava. I tried so hard not to think about her, and about Will’s hands on her the way I wanted them on me, but the longer my gaze lingered on his, the more the vise around my heart tightened. I felt my lip quiver once and I tightened my jaw immediately, but it was too late. He caught the break in my expression and a look of worry passed across his face.

  “Are you ready?” I asked, wheeling away from him before I let a tear come.

  He let out a tired breath. “Yeah.”