A sigh escaped her lips as she walked past the last location Gemma had been alive. The poor girl lived out her last days, plotting against the council and hoping someone would challenge them to change their direction. It had all been for nothing. Myleah had no intentions on overthrowing the council. She wanted nothing to do with leadership. All she wanted was blood. Pure and simple.
The council had taken everything from her. Her position, her wings, and her heart. She thought of Tyrin out there plotting their demise, and she couldn't blame him. Not only had they orchestrated a plot to kill his parents, they'd hunted him down centuries later and killed his sister. She'd been the only family he had left and they'd snuffed her out as if she'd meant nothing. To kill a human was bad enough. Humans had a shot of getting into heaven no matter their misdeeds. But to kill another angel was abhorrent.
Her heart broke all over again as she thought about them. Century long friendships laid in ruins for nothing more than selfish ambition and she wanted scream from the injustice of it all. Her powers swelled within her, fueled by her emotion, and ready to lay waste to the council and everyone else who'd been involved. She held them at bay. She'd get her chance, but first, there was someone she needed to see.
She stalked up the steps of her building, walked past Becky, the receptionist, and stepped into an elevator. As if on autopilot, she couldn't recall the steps that saw her standing at the front door to her condo All she knew was she needed to be there. She wanted to be there. She tested the door handle and, finding it unlocked, pushed the door open. Almost immediately she was greeting by a young boy with a mop of blonde curls He raced towards her, nearly knocking her from her feet as he threw himself in her arms. She embraced him, kneeling and burying her face in his hair.
"Mya! You're back!"
She'd always hated his nickname for her but, at that moment, she was happy to hear it. The past couple days had been rough on both of them as they were pulled from the comfort of their home and into a battle he should have never been a part of. She needed him like she needed air, like she needed to rid their lives of the Fallen and offer him an existence free from their grasps.
"Are you okay?" she asked, though she knew he was anything but. She could feel the moisture of his tears as they seeped through the fabric of her shirt, causing the material to cling to her skin. He'd been worried and nothing she could do would make him feel better about their situation.
"I thought you were dead."
Myleah grabbed his shoulders, pushing him back enough she could look him in the eye. "Dead? I was only gone one night."
She looked up at Jasper who'd been standing behind Cyrus. He glanced away from her, shrugging his shoulders, but she could see he'd been worried as well and she couldn't blame him. The night before had seen them attacked by Damien and Myleah showing violence she hadn't shown in a long time. It had been easy living alone with Cyrus and keeping to themselves. She'd been able to hide her darkness, to hide the violence that brewed just beneath the surface and give him some security. Being back in the world of the Fallen had effectively stripped that from him.
"I'm fine. Nothing is going to happen to me, I promise." She hugged him close.
She could feel the anxiety pulsing around the boy and it pained her there was nothing she could do to relieve that feeling. The boy had been through a lot in the small numbers of years he'd been alive and it would take a miracle for him to be right again. Still, she'd tried. She'd tried from the moment she'd decided to dispatch of his abusive father and take him on as one of her own.
"Have you eaten anything, yet?"
Jasper answered for him. "He refused to eat until you returned. He said you always eat breakfast together."
She smiled at that. The boy was nothing if not consistent. Pushing away from him, she walked into the kitchen and began perusing the contents of the fridge. A lonely gallon of expired milk graced the top shelf. Otherwise, the fridge was bare.
"I can order room service," Cyrus offered, picking up the phone.
He dialed in a few numbers and placed his order the moment someone answered. As before, he had the order charged to Jasper's room.
Myleah dragged her gaze toward Jasper. His dark eyes lit with humor as he dragged a hand over the red streak of hair at the center of his head. "Does he always have to order the most expensive thing on the menu?"
Cyrus, always one to speak his mind, answered the question for her. "You made Myleah mad before. You owe us."
Jasper quirked a brow. "You mean I owe Myleah."
"I mean you owe us. Mya and I are a package deal." Cyrus flashed a toothy grin that betrayed his youth. His small nose wrinkled and his brown eyes danced with glee.
Myleah couldn't help the smile that spread her own lips. Not too long ago, Cyrus had been weary of Jasper, refusing to give him a chance. But seeing them together now let her know that everything was right in the world. Or, at least, within the four walls of her condo. Outside of it, chaos ensued.
Nineteen
Jasper and Cyrus sat at the dining room table, laughing and joking as they consumed what had to be the most expensive breakfast she'd ever eaten. She had to admit, Cyrus definitely had good taste, but with everything going on around her, Myleah found herself shoving the food around her plate with her fork. She had no appetite for anything more than the violence she'd show Lydian once she got her hands on her.
Unhindered, her mind went to that dark place she'd spent years trying to escape. A place where the council's betrayal saw her homeless in an alleyway between two buildings, her only means for sustenance a boy who'd taken pity on her. Never would she have thought Lydian the cause for her decent. The woman had always been ambitious but lacked the brain cells to do anything more than follow. Something Myleah hadn't considered until that very moment.
Myleah had spent months in the hands of her captor, tortured to within an inch of her life before her wings were clipped from her. It had been Mykael who'd found her and returned her to her home, only to see her discarded the moment they realized she'd returned without her wings. Lydian had been all too happy to call her exile to a vote and had been the first to raise her hand. Daniel, Damien, Mykael, and Gemma had followed suit, casting their votes against her as she looked on. It was the perfect play for power. Divide and conquer. Only the strong would survive and, without her wings, they thought her anything but strong.
A unanimous vote was needed to toss her into exile, and only one vote remained. Her eyes had flitted toward Jasper, certain he'd side with her after all she'd been through. Her heart fell to the floor before her when he pushed his hand into the air, sealing her fate. She'd never asked why he'd betrayed her, but sitting across from him now, she knew there had to be a good reason for it.
She thought about what she'd learned the night before in Mykael's office. Lydian had videos of her torture, proof that not only was she privy to her whereabouts, she'd played a part in orchestrating her capture. But why? If all she'd wanted was for Myleah to be voted from the council, she had the numbers to see that done. She didn't have to resort to such drastic measures unless... And that was it. Removing her from the council wouldn't have been enough. They needed her gone.
"Mya?" Cyrus's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "Are you going to eat that?"
He shoved his fork in the direction of her plate. She pushed her plate towards him and watched as he scooped up every morsel she'd had. The boy had an appetite the size of a bear and she loved it. Before returning to her home, she hadn't been able to provide him with much. Watching him enjoy his meals meant the world to her.
She scooted her chair back and stood. As much as she would have loved to enjoy her time with them, she had a lot to figure out. Jasper followed her as she made her way to the bedroom, leaving Cyrus alone to feast on the meal before him. She picked up her duffel bag, rummaging through the contents until she found what she needed - a grey tank top and a pair of tight fitting blue jeans that had enough give she could move freely within them. She shrugge
d out of her t-shirt, stained with her captor's blood. It hit her that she'd worn the shirt the entire time she'd spent with Cyrus that day and she was certain it was the reason for his concern. She tugged on the tank top, ignoring the dried blood that clung to her skin. She needed to shower but time wasn't on her side. If she was going to go after Lydian, she needed to do so quickly, before Lydian found out Myleah knew of her involvement.
"You're leaving again," Jasper stated.
She ignored him and continued to dress herself. She owed him no explanation after what he'd done to her before and she wasn't even sure she could fully trust him. Sure, he'd cared for Cyrus in her absence, ensuring the boy's safety even at the threat of his own. But that wasn't enough to make her forget he'd turned his back on her when she needed him most. Excuse or not, she still held on to anger over his actions and would until she knew why he'd voted against her.
Jasper situated himself by the door, leaning against it. "What happened last night?"
As before, she ignored him, only this time he stalked toward her, grabbing her wrist. She spun toward him, aggression prevalent in her stance. She snatched her wrist from him.
"Don't worry about it." It was all she'd been willing to say at that point. Lydian's involvement in her capture had to be orchestrated. She knew that. What she didn't know was who else played a part in it. "Actually, I did discover something interesting."
Jasper shifted uncomfortably before her.
"Did you know that Lydian had videos of me when I was captured?"
When he didn't immediately answer, she took that as a yes. Of course he'd known. Jasper had a way of finding what others thought well hidden.
"There were a lot of videos of me being tortured, including a video that proved I hadn't been the one to clip my wings. She knew where I was the entire time."
She studied his body language, noticing the way his jaw tensed and he refused to meet her eyes. He was guilt of something but she couldn't figure out what it could be. The Jasper she knew never would have allowed her to be tortured had he known where she was, no matter the reason. So, why hide anything from her at all?
"How long did you know about the videos?"
"I found out just before Gemma's death," Jasper responded, still refusing to meet her gaze.
"And you didn't think to tell me?"
"I didn't want you doing anything crazy like going after Lydian. There is still a lot you don't know."
Myleah took a seat on her bed and folded her arms over her chest. "Enlighten me."
"I don't think..."
"I didn't ask you to think, Jasper. I told you to enlighten me." She flashed him a look she'd hoped made clear the threat of violence should he refuse. "
He let out a heavy sigh, finally meeting her gaze. She could see the indecision within them, along with an emotion she really couldn't be bothered to decipher. Whatever it was didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was him revealing everything he knew.
"Gemma showed me the tapes a week before Mykael brought you here. She wanted me to believe her when she told me that the council's ambitions were turning deadly, that simply taking over Burnsville was no longer their aim."
Myleah rolled her eyes at that. That information wasn't new to either of them. Lydian and Daniel had plans for the citizens of the United States, and Burnsville was nothing more than a test to see if their plans could actually work. With thousands of Fallen following their lead, they'd been able to integrate themselves into the very fabric of the city, situating themselves in positions of power over the last century. With plenty of time on their hands, they could work slowly - working the political systems to run for office, figuring out a way to keep the citizens from leaving the city without alerting any of the surrounding areas of their deception, taking on roles of police officers, teachers, high ranking positions within banks and large businesses. They'd purchased a lot of real estate, building an empire within the city until the day came where they simply took over. There was no war, no battles. Nothing stood in their way as they took over the local airwaves and informed the humans of their new status as the lesser beings. Sure, a few of them fought back, but the Fallen had control over the police, the justice system, and every bank within the city. With the snap of their fingers, humans were no longer in charge.
Burnsville had been a success, a success the council needed to further their agenda and gain the support of more fallen angels as they pressed for another major city.
"You misunderstand." Jasper stated. "Nothing happened the way they'd planned. Sure, they were able to take over the city without much resistance but something they hadn't told us was their plan to round up the humans within the city and place them on reservations controlled by the Fallen. Concentration camps where they were free to do whatever they wished to the humans in their charge. Do you understand what that means?"
Concentration camps? In all the time she'd been part of the council, nothing like that was ever discussed. She'd certainly have never agreed to something so sinister, something she was certain would see them never welcomed back into heaven. She wanted to laugh at the idea. There was no way the Fallen would allow the council to steer them in that direction, but she'd seen first hand what desperation could do to people forced from their homes.
"So that's why Gemma had reached out to the Originals for help." It made sense to her now that she thought about it. If anyone could stop the council from their plans for domination, the Originals would be the ones. It was for that very reason Isha and Laurence were killed. The moment Isha and Laurence saw their vision for the humans, they'd had every intention of stopping them.
Jasper gave her a tight nod. "It is also why they had to get rid of you. A lot of the Fallen believe in you, more than you know. They trust you, just as they'd trusted Isha and Laurence. Had you spoken against the council's plans, those plans would have failed."
"All the reason for me to go after Lydian," Myleah quipped with a smile.
"You're still missing something. You and I both know Lydian could never have pulled this off herself. Even with Daniel, Damien, and Mykael following her, she still wouldn't have had the pull she needed to orchestrate a plan on such a large scale. There's something we're missing. Something hidden so well even I can't uncover it. I don't think taking out Lydian would fix anything."
Myleah pushed to her feet, balling her fists at her side. "I don't care if it will fix anything. This isn't my fight, nor is it my problem. My only motivation is taking down the people who did this to me."
She thrust her thumb toward her back as the broken remains of what used to be her wings shoved from her back.
"And if you get yourself killed what do you think will happen to Cyrus? Who would care for the boy?"
"I can get him out of the city. At least out there he will have a chance." Sure, she wouldn't be there to support the boy but he was a survivor. Were he placed with a good foster family, he'd have a better chance for the future she'd always dreamed for him, far away from the shadows of the Fallen.
"For how long, Leah? If the council gets their way, it's only a matter of time before they begin spreading out. He'd be caught up in this mess again, only this time, without you to protect him. If you don't stand up and do what's right for the Fallen or the humans, do it for him. Do it for his future."
Twenty
Myleah rushed from the building, her mind made. Lydian had to be brought down. The woman posed a threat to every thing she held dear, which wasn't much. She'd lost everything the moment her captor had taken her wings but she refused to lose anything else. She thought about Cyrus as she crossed the street in front of her building, paying no attention to the cars that passed her. Cyrus was innocent, a boy preyed upon by those bigger than him for nothing more than selfish ambition. His father had used him as his own punching bag for years, laying into him every ounce of sadness, pain, and anger he felt since the loss of his wife. And though she could understand his loss, she hated the fact he'd taken it out on such a small boy.
She owed him her life. Plain and simple Hell, she owed him the world. If she could snatch the world by its balls and hand it to him on silver platter, she would have. It was nothing compared to the hope he'd given her, the love he felt for her as she struggled to take on a role she'd never thought she'd play.
She turned the corner down a street that boasted the largest bars and restaurants that served the best cuisine. The scents of seafood and alcohol mingled in the air so pungent she felt nauseous from it. She trudged forward, ignoring the scents, ignoring the blaring horns of traffic as she crossed another street. She could hear the flapping of wings above her as Fallen made their way to their destinations and the sound made her heart ache. She missed the feel of the air flowing through the feathers of her wings, the feeling of gliding across the sky with the sun caressing her face and back. Glancing upward, she watched as they dipped and turned, enjoying the flight. An enjoyment she'd never feel again. Of all the things she'd been able to heal from, stab wounds, broken bones, even a gun shot, she'd suffer them all tenfold if only to regain her wings.
She shook the thought from her head. No matter how she wished it, there was nothing to be done about it. She had something else far more pressing to do. She passed up an alleyway before the sound of whimpering touched her ears. She wanted to ignore it but it called to her, forcing her to turn on her heel and trudge back toward the alley.
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