Black Ops Fae

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Black Ops Fae Page 11

by C. N. Crawford


  I couldn’t save him. I didn’t save him.

  When I opened my eyes, my breathing started to slow again. Strangely, light was blooming around me, radiating from my own body over the cave. Apparently, some of the Old Gods’ power had stuck with me since I’d plunged that knife into the silver branch. My terror must have sparked it.

  I swallowed hard, staring at the domed, stony cave. It wasn’t some kind of hellish dungeon. It seemed to be a rookery for dragoniles, and they swooped in wide arcs below the ceiling. My breath caught at the beauty of them—stunning shades of violet, gold, and blue, their scales faintly iridescent.

  I looked down at my own body, beaming with radiant light, then I gaped at the illuminated ceiling, the dragoniles. They seemed to delight in my light, unleashing cheerful squawks.

  “A Bringer of Light.” A deep voice echoed off the ceiling, slicing through the reptilian squawks.

  Slowly, I turned around, my pulse racing.

  There in the entryway stood an angel, dressed for battle. His sword hung strapped behind his back, and his golden wings spread out behind him. Long, blond hair hung over his powerful shoulders, and a smug smile twisted his lips. “I smelled your magic when you unleashed your light. I smelled the magic of the Old Gods. Animals, the lot of you. I raced here at the speed of the wind so that I might have the honor of putting you to death.”

  I tightened my grip on the knife, ancient battle fury pulsing through my blood. I’d have to kill this one before he called the others. “A celestial angel. I’ve heard about your kind. Is it true that if you’re not an archangel, you’re mortal on earth?”

  For just a moment, his smile faltered. “Now why would the horseman of death be hiding one of your kind?” He rushed for me, fast as lightning. Just as I began to lift my knife, he pressed his sword against my throat. “Drop your knife. And tell me what you’re doing with Adonis.”

  Stall, Ruby. Stall. I swallowed hard. “He’s imprisoned me here. Something about not wanting me to mess up his apocalypse. I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

  He pressed the blade harder. “Drop your knife.”

  I let go, and it clanged to the floor. One way or another, I needed to get it back. Poison still laced its blade. He’d be dead in seconds. But given the way his sword was pressed against my neck, I’d need one hell of a distraction to get my hands on it again.

  The dragoniles screeched above me, their wings beating the air.

  The angel stared down at me, his eyes burning with a bright, heavenly fire. “You’re telling me that Adonis is keeping you prisoner? Why wouldn’t he simply kill you? You’re a threat to the entire angelic race.”

  Think fast, Ruby.

  “He thinks there are more of us.” I needed to keep myself alive, through talking. “Adonis thinks I might know where these Bringers of Light are, just that the memories are buried deep in my subconscious or something. I have no idea what he’s talking about, but he’s definitely not on my side.” I widened my eyes, letting my body tremble a bit. Truth be told—with an angel pressing a blade into your throat, it wasn’t really that hard to fake fear. “He’s awful to me. He keeps torturing me.”

  The angel’s eyes flashed brighter, and one of his hands found its way to my waist. That last bit apparently fascinated him. “Torturing you? Tell me.” His lips twitched.

  Did I detect a hint of desire in his words, in his eyes? Fae were experts in pleasure, and I do believe I’d found this angel’s weakness. Here on earth, angels were not only mortal, but vulnerable to primal desires—just like the beasts. And this one was a sadistic perv.

  I thought I’d found my distraction. I let my lip tremble. “You want me to tell you how he hurt me?”

  “Oh yes.”

  I swallowed hard. I didn’t have any visible scars, so I’d have to get creative. “He locks me in here, knowing that I’m scared of the dark, that I’m scared of dragons.” I widened my eyes, all innocence. “He uses his mind control on me and forces me to hold my head underwater until my lungs burn, or to contort my body in painful positions for hours. I’ve never felt so helpless. I’ve never felt such excruciating pain.”

  The angel licked his lips, his wings spreading out wider behind him. “What else does he make you do?”

  “Sick, depraved things that I can’t even speak about. And the pain. The pain. I can’t bear it anymore. Can you get me out of here?”

  The angel’s fingers tightened on my waist. Oh, he liked that idea. Sicko. “Tell me more.”

  “He uses his angelic mind control powers to make me choke myself until my lungs burn.”

  “I want to watch you hurt yourself,” he rasped.

  I shot a quick glance at the knife on the floor. Pervy Angel still had a sword at my throat, and I wasn’t able to reach for it. “I’m afraid he’s broken me completely. But it’s no use. I still can’t remember anything about the Old Gods.”

  The angel’s eyes burned with desire. He wanted what Adonis had. Right now, he’d give anything for that power of mind control.

  He gripped the back of my neck, forcing his blade deeper into my skin. I winced at the sharp pain, and a trickle of blood ran down my throat. He kicked the knife away from me, and it spun across the floor with a scraping noise.

  My blood roared in my ears. I wasn’t getting to that damn knife this way.

  Still, maybe there was another way out of this.

  Angels could fall. All I needed was for him to give in completely to earthly desires, to lust and the thrill of power.

  Lucky for me, this creep had telegraphed his weakness.

  Chapter 19

  “Please,” I whimpered. “I’ll do anything you want.”

  If a horseman fell, it would summon all the archangels from heaven. I could only hope that the fall of a regular, mortal angel like this perv would go fairly unnoticed.

  He snarled. “I want you to hurt yourself.”

  Honestly. Couldn’t he have had a nicer desire? Maybe massages with oil, long walks on the beach? Of course it had to be something like forcing women to hurt themselves to exert complete sadistic domination.

  Demons got a bad rap. I was increasingly certain angels were worse.

  “Hurt myself how?” I asked.

  “You can start by falling to your knees.”

  Ugh. Males. Always the same.

  I widened my eyes, trying to look shocked as I dropped to my knees. The cold stone bit into my skin.

  A smile split his features, and something new appeared in his eyes—his golden irises darkened to black.

  “Yes,” he growled. “Good. Now pull off your dress.”

  Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. Could I take out his knees and rush for the knife on the ground? Not likely. He looked incredibly powerful.

  I pulled down just the top of my gown, giving him a view of my shoulders. Given that I’d still never gotten any underthings, that was as far as the dress was going. In any case, I didn’t think nudity was the important part. It was terror and humiliation that excited him.

  “I’d never shown another man my shoulders until Adonis kidnapped me,” I pleaded.

  A rumbling noise rose from his chest.

  I let the fear shine in my eyes. “But I’ll do anything to save my life.”

  His features were changing, teeth sharpening. Ash began to rain from the ceiling, coating our bodies, the floor.

  The dragoniles circled above, their wings whipping at the air. Reptilian screeches echoed off the walls. They could sense a change falling over the room.

  “Touch my sword,” he said, a quaver in his ragged voice. “Run your fingertips along the blade until they bleed. Hurt yourself, succubus.”

  Bile rose in my throat, pure disgust. Ash began to coat me, falling on my dress, my bare shoulders. And the cold floor chilled my knees.

  He was changing, though, horns growing from his forehead.

  I reached up for the sword, running my fingertips over the blade. The steel sliced into my skin, drawing
blood that ran down my palms, my wrists.

  “Yes!” The angel roared, his wings spreading out behind him. His feathers were beginning to darken, the pale gold now tinged with the faintest charcoal gray. “How does it feel?”

  “Painful,” I whimpered. Like your transformation is about to be.

  Above, the dragoniles swarmed faster. The light created by my body began to dim, but the dragoniles punctuated the darkening air with hot blasts of fire from their jaws.

  So this was what it was like to watch an angel fall.

  The angel gazed down at me. “You’re mine,” he growled. His body had begun shaking, convulsing.

  Slowly, I rose, and he lowered his sword, his expression completely rapt. I suppressed the bile rising in my throat, my complete and utter disgust, and stared in mock horror at the blood on my hands. It wasn’t a deep cut, but I played it up.

  He moaned, and I fought down more nausea. I glanced at him, smiling darkly as I watched the transformation at work.

  Now I had him exactly where I wanted him.

  Blood-red streaks speared the black of his pupils, and claws sprouted from his hands. Two gleaming, ivory horns emerged from his head, and his wings began to shrink, the feathers shifting and smoothing into sleek leather.

  As they did, pain began to contort his features. An agonized groan rose from his throat, and he fell to his knees. He clawed at his shoulders where his wings were changing shape, becoming more pointed and angular. His back arched, and his mouth opened. Golden light poured from his open jaw, racing for the ceiling, and his body twitched and jerked like a dying man on the gallows.

  I couldn’t say I felt sorry for him.

  I ran for the knife, snatching it off the stony ground. Overhead, the dragoniles flew more frantically, swooping lower over the transforming angel, over me. I crossed the floor, and brought the knife down hard into his back.

  The demon’s body jerked one last time, then fell still, slumping on the ground. The bursting flames of the dragoniles cast blasts of warm light over the growing pool of blood. I pulled my knife from his back, catching my breath.

  Too bad my victory was short-lived. A golden light brightened the air behind me, and I whipped around. There in the doorway to the dragoniles’ rookery stood four angels, their wrathful eyes locked on me.

  At the front of the group stood an angel with silvery-white hair, his wings the color of pearls. “We felt your power, Bringer of Light. And here we find you. Covered in blood, gleaming like a beacon.” His deep voice echoed off the ceiling, and he pointed to the fallen angel on the stone floor. “You lured him to his doom.”

  I gripped my knife. How could I take out four angels with one knife?

  “Didn’t take much,” I said. “He was awfully eager to fall.”

  Pearly Angel drew his sword. He stalked toward me, his footsteps echoing off the walls and ceiling through the cacophony of dragonile squawks.

  My palms sweated over the knife’s hilt, and I clutched it tighter. If only I had control over this light, I’d be in a much safer position right now. To be honest, the Old Gods were screwing me over a bit by giving me uncontrollable powers. Right now, this magical light only served to paint a glowing target on me. A giant neon arrow to enemy number one of the angelic horde.

  I summoned a glamour to cover myself, but this time a sharp sting pierced my skin. What the hell? Maybe fae magic and Old Gods’ magic didn’t mix so well.

  “Light?” I asked, playing dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Not a brilliant strategy. Just the best one I had right now.

  Pearly shook his head, and firelight glinted over his sword as he prowled closer. “Little Light Bringer. You can’t hide it from us now. We feel it. We’ve seen it.”

  Another angel, one with curly ginger hair, stalked closer, by Pearly’s side. “Imagine this, Afriel. We come here to check on Death, who hasn’t been slaughtering like he should. And instead we find something much more interesting.”

  Afriel cocked his head, gripping his sword in both hands. “His seal should have broken once the terror began. Does this creature have anything to do with that?”

  Ginger’s eyes blazed with cold light. “Don’t move too quickly, Afriel. She might have honed her powers.”

  Fear shone in Afriel’s features. “We need to kill her now, before she brings us all down.” He stepped over the demon’s body. “Look what she did to Xapham, the filthy little minx.”

  “So you didn’t come for me, then?” I asked.

  This was the first good news I’d had this evening. If by some miracle I made it out of here, none of the other celestial angels knew about me.

  It was just the whole “getting out of here” part that I couldn’t quite work out yet. I could throw my knife and take out one of the angels immediately. But then I’d be all out of knives.

  I’d have to lure them closer until they were in range. It was my only hope.

  The dragoniles swooped over my head, squawking wildly. Their fiery breath singed the air, burning strands of my hair. The situation seemed increasingly disastrous, like I might not have a way out of it alive…

  As the specter of death crept over me, a cold, primal rage began to roil within me. My hunter’s instincts took over.

  I can hear your mortal hearts beating, angels. I want to pierce them.

  Oh shit oh shit oh shit. Feral Ruby was about to come out, and if she did, I’d lose control completely. Feral Ruby didn’t necessarily make the best decisions.

  Afriel raised his sword. “You are quite the serendipitous discovery.”

  My glamour began to fade.

  Then, as fury erupted in my blood, I began to shift, my ears changing shape, canines lengthening. Ancient power burned through my body, ready to explode.

  “Come on, then,” I snarled. A wild energy ripped through me. My pale hair whipped around my face as my body glowed brighter.

  Afriel rushed for me, probably expecting me to run from him. But the hunter’s instinct raged strong in me, and I surprised him by rushing for him, too, until I was pressed up close to his body. The sound of his heart seemed to echo in my own blood.

  This close, he couldn’t strike me with his sword.

  Go in for the kill. Instinct propelled my knife into his chest, finding its mark between two of his ribs. I thrust the blade up higher—right into his heart. He dropped his sword, and with a lightning-fast reflex, I snatched it from the stony ground.

  Pure, primal instinct overtook my body until I felt at one with the stones beneath me. I am blood, moss, bones, and earth, a creature of the damp caves. I am the feet pounding the leaves as you run from me. I am the rhythmic terror of your blood roaring in your ears.

  My heartbeat slammed against my ribs like a war drum as I gripped the sword in my hands. From the corner of my eye, I glimpsed movement, another sword, metal. A threat.

  Thrust. Kill. Draw blood.

  Move away from the threat. I dodged back, eyes landing on the ginger one—the pulsing vein in his neck. Life—so much life pulsing in that body. I licked my canines.

  Time to end it.

  I needed to sink my teeth into those hot veins. To hear him scream.

  I snarled, no longer able to remember how to speak. I’d make my message clear enough.

  I rushed at the speed of storm wind toward my prey. Primal fear glinted in his eyes, and my sword found its mark in his chest. My lips curled with a dark smile at the feel of shattering bone, the tearing of veins.

  Blood soaked my sword, spraying over my body. Glorious. I am home.

  Chapter 20

  Above me, the dragoniles pierced the air with their strange, primordial song, and it called to me, stirring my blood. Why had I hated the dragoniles so much? We were alike, these creatures and me. The beating hearts of beasts, driven to break, to kill—to drink the blood of our enemies.

  With the angel’s sword in my hand, I moved across the blood on the floor like a dancer, whirling and ducking, fighting the next thr
eat. When I pivoted again, I found the next angel coming for me, black hair streaming behind him. Kill.

  My sword clashed with the angel’s, sparks lighting up the dark air. Another angel pressed in on me—and my twisted, bestial heart started to panic, a rabbit cornered by wolves.

  From above, a black dragonile scorched the air with his fiery breath, singeing the angels.

  Just enough to give me an advantage.

  Smiling, I whirled my sword through the air, cutting into the angel’s sword arm, thrilling at the destruction. How would he like the feel of mortality?

  Blood-soaked soil, thunder rumbling over the horizon, lightning searing my blood.

  I swung my sword again, hacking into his other arm, sword through bone, through flesh—

  Fear flashed in his eyes, and he screamed, “Get away from me!” His terror sang through my blood like an aria.

  Dimly, I wondered where the beautiful one was—the man with the blue-gray eyes and the broken wing. But he wasn’t here.

  I was here, and I wanted blood. I hacked through one of the angel’s wings, creating a masterpiece of blood-stained feathers.

  “Evil flee from me!” he shrieked.

  At his words, an image—a distant memory seared in my mind like a brand: sharp, monstrous teeth, sinking into pale flesh, blood streaming onto the pavement.

  I stumbled away from him as if I’d been burned. As I did, a blur of white moved for me—another threat. I gritted my teeth, swinging for him in a haze of steel and red. Our swords clashed, and his eyes blazed with silver light. He pressed in on me, his golden hair streaming behind him.

  Kill. Prey.

  He was the strongest among them, and my muscles burned, my sword faltering. My legs began to shake, blood pumping hard as his steel clashed against mine.

  Kill.

  A single thrust, and my stolen sword plunged into his heart. His pale eyes widened, a stream of blood dripping from his lips.

  I pulled my sword from his body, and he slumped to the floor.

  Light blazed from my chest, and the disturbing memory faded from my mind. Even with the din of the dragoniles howling around me, a sort of peace had overcome me.

 

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