Fallen Embers (Fallen Guardians #9)

Chapter 23

Chapter

Twenty-Three

Lore shut his eyes and resisted the urge to follow Nia into the kitchen. He wished she hadn’t heard his conversation with the seraph. He’d bent the truth for Jehoel and knew how it must have sounded to her.

Cold and callous.

The betrayal in those pretty amber irises caused a heart he’d never given much thought to, to shudder in torment. But he didn’t dare risk an explanation, aware Jehoel would probably have others watching, listening. Only his lifelong ties to the Celestial Realm had restrained him from revealing anything to Nia.

By the dark stars! He pinched the bridge of his nose and paced along the game table and machines. This wasn’t how he expected things to go. While he’d taken on the riskier elimination jobs for the Celestial Realm in the past, he refused to leave Nia unprotected by accepting another one now. As if he believed the drivel Jehoel had spouted, that the kill order against her had been rescinded.

He stopped and glared across the living room.

Jehoel’s trickery would not defeat him, nor would he allow anyone to harm Nia. The very thought of her being hurt ignited his blood with a burning rage.

Now…now he’d hurt her.

Because he was a fool with no experience in relationships, but that could never change just how much he needed her—longed for her.

And he’d never needed anything in his long life.

He frowned at the silence in the kitchen.

“Nia?”

And nothing.

With a deep sigh, he made his way into the room only to find it empty. He flashed outside to the front courtyard, heavy mist enclosing him.

“Nia?” he yelled.

Only the whine of the wind answered him, and instinctively, he knew she wasn’t there. With a wave of his hand, he cleared the mist-covered yard. Empty.

No. She wouldn’t leave, knowing the danger was still out there…but of course she would!

She doesn’t know anything because you didn’t tell her the truth.

His jaw clenched. He shot up to the rooftop of the abbey and probed the surroundings for the familiar vibrations of angels. When one of his kind was close, a soft hum usually prickled his psyche. He scanned the mountain, the village, and then all of Romania… And nothing.

No, no, no. He spread his search wider and wider.

It was like she no longer existed.

Unparalleled terror strangled him, a sensation he’d never known in all his centuries of existence. His chest constricted, each breath a struggle. Only his eons-old conditioning prevented him from spiraling into panic. He had to find her fast—before they did.

Reverting back to the coldness he wore like skin, Lore shifted to the nearby Guardian’s abode. “Race?” he yelled.

As usual, precious wasted seconds passed. Just when he considered dragging the damn dragon out by his horns, Race appeared in his naked mortal form, glaring at him through unbound silver hair.

“You are messing with my slumber?—”

“Nia’s missing,” Lore cut him off.

The warrior narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean missing ?”

“Because she’s not at the abbey,” he bit out.

“Why the hell didn’t you call and warn me of the current trouble?” Race demanded.

“Because she and I…”

“She and you—what? What the fuck did you do?”

“We were talking…” Stars! It wasn’t talking. He’d decimated her with a brutal truth, that she was just a job, without revealing his emerging, turbulent feelings for her, so she would believe him, and Jehoel would leave her alone.

With his cruel words, he’d driven her away and into danger.

He shook his head. “We had a…a disagreement. She ran outside and vanished. Help me find her. Please.”

He flashed back to the abbey courtyard, scanning for her again, looking for anything he might have missed. If Nia had left on her own, he would have sensed it. She wasn’t strong enough to shield herself. Whoever had taken her had blocked him. Demons wouldn’t care to hide?—

No! Lore’s gut twisted.

They had dared?

A vicious growl escaped him, a dark rage breaking. They would pay!

The arms banded around Nia loosened their hold. She stumbled and spun to face a tall, burly angel in weathered brown leather. Dark wings rustled free.

Dull light flickered through the narrow gap at the entrance, briefly revealing a gloomy cave, heavy with the odor of cold stone. Chunks of rock were strewn about the damp floor.

Her heart thundered, dread swamping her. “Wh-Who are you? Why did you bring me here?”

“Silence, human.” He grasped her wrist and dragged her farther into the dark cave.

“No!” She tried to break free, but his grip tightened, nearly hard enough to break her bones. “Let me go!” Furious, she kicked him.

Without slowing, he cast her an impassive stare and slapped her hard across the face.

Pain exploded across her jaw and cheek, and she stumbled. Tears burned her eyes. Her throat tightened, and the side of her face stung. She licked her split lip and blood coated her tongue. She swallowed hard.

These winged beings were cruel and not as nice as books made them out to be.

Apparently satisfied, he’d cowed her enough, he pivoted and surveyed the obscure cave.

Bile rushed up her throat, and she knew. Whatever he planned was going to be bad. She had to get away.

Nia tried to summon her flashing ability. Please, please, work… She touched on the energy, but with her growing agitation, she couldn’t seem to latch onto it.

With little choice, she grabbed the dagger from her boot. The angel turned, and she thrust with all her strength.

He fluidly evaded her attack. His gray eyes morphed into twin orbs of ice and held hers.

As if a puppeteer pulled her strings, Nia watched in pure horror as she turned the knife toward herself.

Oh, God… She gritted her teeth and willed her limbs to obey, to no avail. No matter how hard she fought against it, the blade slowly aimed toward her. With a hard plunge, it sank between her ribs. Pain hissed through her like acid, and she cried out.

“Be grateful that is all I did. They want this to look natural.” He wrenched the dagger free and flung the weapon away. It disappeared in a shimmer.

“Why?” she choked out, pressing a palm to her side, agony searing her.

“Because the Power couldn’t finish his job. You weren’t supposed to live this long.”

“What?” she breathed. “You mean Lore?”

Ignoring her question, he grabbed her arm again, and everything disappeared in a whoosh.

They reappeared in an old ruin. A hand pressed to her seeping wound, fear crashed through her as she glanced around the decaying temple.

Most of the roof had collapsed, revealing gaping holes.

Nature had reclaimed its stolen space with vengeful determination. Massive trees surged upward through broken stone, their roots like grasping fingers. Weeds erupted through every crack, spidering across the ancient cement-like green veins. Worn-down stone deities adorned with carved jewelry and some sporting serpents wrapped around their necks remained tucked in eroding niches?—

Slithering and hissing resounded.

Nia froze, her gaze darting to the thick vegetation around her, her heart wedged in her throat. The gliding movements within the dense, shuddering branches had ice sliding through her veins.

Oh, God, oh, God, please, not snakes.

They were everywhere.

The angel snapped a swaying vine from an overhead branch and bound her wrist to a heavy, low-hanging bough.

“No,” she cried, tugging her arm. “Lore!”

“He can’t hear you, human.”

A chilling hiss whispered close by. The leaves above her trembled, revealing a thick, green snake coiled around the branch she was tied to. Horror engulfed her like a tsunami.

“No! Don’t leave me here!” she begged, yanking hard to free herself. The vine cut through her skin?—

The snake struck, its fangs sinking into the flesh near her thumb. Stinging pain spread, adding to her agony. She screamed. The reptile dropped with a thud and slithered into the underbrush.

The angel reached for her other wrist?—

“No!” Adrenaline surged. With her free, blood-smeared hand, she shoved him hard.

He flew back, scattering the snakes on the ground, sending more skidding around her.

Oh, God! She shut her eyes and stayed still, praying they would go away. Something cold slithered around her ankle.

“No!” she shrieked, kicking out. More stings pierced her flesh.

Her vision blurred. Darkness hovered.

“Someone, help me, please,” she croaked, tears sliding down her face.

But no one was coming. After all, she was supposed to die…

A half-dressed Race appeared in the courtyard where Lore stood near the balustrade, still scrying for the blight who’d taken Nia.

“What the hell happened?” Race pulled on a t-shirt. “You’ve been guarding her like a dog with a bone, and I know you’re fucking her?—”

Lore slammed his fist straight into Race’s jaw.

The Guardian’s head snapped back. Black scales glided under his skin.

“Never speak of her in that manner.”

Race snorted, moving his jaw as the scales faded. “It can only be your bros who’ve taken her. The question is, why?” His eyes narrowed. “The Celestial Realm has been known to kill mortals born of angels and humans, who possess the powers of angels…and she is psionic. Shit, man, I’m betting my dragon’s scaly ass those twits from above asked you to take her out!” He laughed. “You’re so fucking screwed once Nia gets wind of it.”

Lore shut out the idiot’s remark, regretting asking him for help. But the truth hit hard, and he rubbed the ache in his chest, shooting out his senses again… Come on, come on. Where are you, Nia?

As if in response to his desperation, a faint thread of fear tugged at him.

Nia!

He flashed from the abbey, following the pull, and reappeared in a dark space with an earthy smell. A damp mountain cave.

“You tracked her here? Never mind, I can pick up her vibes, too,” Race said.

Lore scowled at him. He didn’t want Race to pick up anything about Nia, just to find her before he truly lost her. Angels worked fast with a direct death order.

Her scent was strong, and her terror hit him hard.

He scoured every recess in the cave?—

A coppery odor flooded his nose. His heart pounded as he crouched and touched the fresh, wet splotches on the dirty granite ground.

“She’s hurt!” he rasped, her spilled blood his own agony. “He will pay.”

“Then let’s find the fucker,” Race growled.

Lore shot to his feet and dematerialized from the cave to the ledge of the mountain. He scanned for her over the sweeping lands.

“Lock it in, man.” Race appeared at his side. “You’re throwing off enough rage to alert your brethren to where we are.”

Jaw clenched, Lore pulled every bit of his fury deep into his psyche, shields bolted, and continued scanning for Nia.

“So, he’s hiding her somewhere in the Abode of Snow?”

“What?” Lore took in the raw, frigid beauty of the surrounding mountainous range, trying to track Nia’s energy, needing a vibration to follow. Whoever had taken her was skilled at concealing her.

“It’s the name of this place,” Race said. “Legend is that the shrines here are also revered as the Abode of Shiva.”

Lore hoped to the heavens that whoever this deity was, he kept her safe because Lore had already done a dirt-poor job of it?—

A faint, pained cry drifted in the air, ripping through his soul. Nia!

His wings broke free. Lore soared off. Hold on, Nia. Hold on .

A moment later, he landed outside the crumbling ruins of a temple. It didn’t appear that humans visited the place anymore, not with nature reclaiming much of it. A jungle surrounded them. Trees loomed, branches tangled above, leaving only the bare bones of a decaying shrine.

A snake hissed and slithered past his foot. Several were coiled around the boughs.

His heart in his throat, Lore retracted his wings and moved deeper into the ruined temple?—

And he stumbled to a halt. Pain and anger broke free at the sight before him.

Nia hung from a branch, one wrist tied to a bough, her head drooped to the side. Blood soaked the side of her pink sweater. An angel lay sprawled a short distance from her, wings spread. Snakes were everywhere, sliding over his prone form. He wouldn’t die from a snake bite. But she would.

Lore flashed to her. The snakes hissed and scattered away, driven off by his power. He slipped his arm around her. She appeared pale in the wan sunlight flickering between the treetops.

“What do you want done with him?” Race called out.

“Keep him there. I’ll get to him.” He shoved his wrath deep into his gut and mentally snapped the vine. She fell into his arms. Tears stained her cheeks, causing tracks to form on her dirt-smeared face. Beneath all the dirt, a palm print marked her cheek.

His jaw clenched as rage seethed to break free.

Her heartbeat remained far too sluggish.

No, no, Nia, stay with me!

Gently, he laid her on the cleared ground, summoned a dagger, slashed his wrist, and did something that would definitely get him de-winged and thrown out of the Celestial Realm.

He no longer gave a shit.

Blood oozed. With a thought, he kept the wound open, letting his shimmering, silvery-red plasma seep into her mouth. Her eyes remained shut, her throat still.

“Come on, habun , drink,” he whispered, gently stroking her throat.

Race hunkered opposite him. “That’s some power she’s got there, keeping the snakes away.”

“Only after she was bitten,” Lore muttered as he fed her more of his blood and gently massaged her throat again. His gaze lowered to the bloodied slash on her sweater.

Twice now, she’d been hurt, and all because he’d failed to protect her?—

The pulse in her throat grew stronger. She coughed, swallowing more of his blood, lips smeared red. Her eyes flickered open, revealing dull amber irises… They met his.

“Lore?” She blinked, then tears flooded her eyes. “He…he left me here to die.”

“I am so sorry, habibti .” His own eyes burned, and he had to force out the words. “I’m here now. How do you feel?”

“I don’t know… Lethargic.”

“Venom would do that.” He put his wrist back on her mouth, but she shook her head and pushed his arm away, revealing the bloody wound on her wrist from the vine. “You have to take more. It will neutralize the poison.”

“Yes, do, Nia,” Race said. “I still have a wooden dagger we need to work with.”

Lore frowned.

She blinked at Race, then her gaze came back to his, and a flicker of hurt shimmered before her eyelids lowered. Her lips fastened on his wrist, and she sucked his flowing blood again.

Lore wanted to draw and quarter Jehoel.

As her pallid hue faded, leaving only her luscious honey skin, Lore scanned her again. The dark venom scuttling through her blood had been defused. He lifted her sweater and t-shirt and laid his palm on the dagger wound on her ribs. While his blood would heal that injury, too, it wasn’t fast enough for him. A silvery light swept over it, leaving behind only smooth skin.

“How did this happen?” He gently stroked her healed flesh.

“He made me stab myself because I kicked him.” She sat up, dislodging his hand, and pulled down her bloodied shirt, her attention on the snakes slithering and hissing around them at a distance, kept away by his protective powers. She hastily drew her knees up to her chest; then her wet eyes met his. “He said I wasn’t supposed to live this long, and he would do what you were meant to. Is…is it true?”

While they needed to have that conversation, this wasn’t the place for it. “Let’s get you out of here first.”

Her mouth compressed, her pain from betrayal strangling him like a noose.

His hands clenched on his knees. Before he blurted his truth, which would see them both dead since she was forbidden to him, he rose. “Race, keep her.” The moment the Guardian helped Nia to her feet, Lore asked, “Did you take his powers?”

She rubbed the blood smears on her wrist, not meeting his eyes. Her brow furrowed a little, then she nodded.

It might not have been her intention, but it had rendered the Throne unconscious. Lore didn’t have to hunt him down. He grabbed the angel with one hand and strung him up to a black metal beam Lore had conjured, so no one could free him except Lore himself.

He turned and reached for Nia, but she shifted into Race, seeking his protection. The warrior banded his arm around her, setting Lore’s teeth on edge. “R-Race can take me back?—”

Jaw clenched, Lore scooped her into his arms, ignoring her feeble push to his chest. “I am taking you back.”

“I don’t want you?—”

“Then we will remain here.”

Her lips tightened.

Race merely cocked an eyebrow, didn’t intervene. “That’s a fairly civil punishment considering what he did,” he said instead, eyeing the strung-up angel. “I could flambé him. He’d be delicious crispy.”

“I am not done with him. Once Nia’s safe, I’ll be back.”

“I’m not going back to the abbey.”

“No, you’re not.” His gaze skimmed over her taut features. “It’s too dangerous. We’re going to Michael.”

“Well then, my job here is done.” Hands on his hips, Race angled his head, studying the angel. “But I might just stay a while and entertain myself with this bozo.”

“Don’t kill him.”

“It depends on how hungry I get. What is he?”

“A Throne.”

“ Riiiight .” A fanged grin. “Created for God’s war. Good. I like them robust. More flavorful.”

Keeping a firm hold on a tight-lipped Nia, Lore flew them out of the ruins and took to the sky. She shivered. He let his warmth seep into her, and her trembling eased. But her hands remained fisted against his chest, not touching him.

Her stolen powers battered at him. He could sense it hurt her and see it in her slight grimace and set jaw. Yet she remained silent.

He found a place near a flowing river and coasted down. The moment he landed, she pushed away from him and stumbled but righted herself before he could steady her. All he could do was take a deep breath and hope she’d hear him out.

But first… “You need to release that power into the earth. Or those hunting you will find you faster.”

Her expression hardened. She didn’t respond. Yes, she was mad at him, and he couldn’t blame her. She lowered to her knees and slammed her palms down like she’d done to him not so long ago. Power shot out of her hands into the pebbled ground. The earth trembled, the quake resonating, causing the river to undulate into a massive wave.

She gasped and fell back on her bottom.

Before the deluge swept her along with its velocity, he grabbed her, shot into the air, and hovered. With a thought, he calmed the river, then coasted down and set her back on her feet. Not liking the blood and dirt on her, a touch of his hand on her sweater cleared the gore stains on her clothes, her skin, and the dirt from her face.

“You don’t have to clean me up.” She stepped away.

He bit off a deep sigh. No point in delaying this. “Nia, what the Throne said is true. I was sent to observe, to see if you possessed any of the Watchers’ deadly abilities?—”

“And to kill me if I did,” she said, her tone as chilly as the air around them.

“And report back to the seraphs,” he continued. “Yes, it’s what I’ve been tasked to do.”

“I see. And where does the archangel Michael come into this since, according to you, he asked you to protect me?”

“Everything I told you is true,” he said, his voice rough with regret, knowing nothing could atone for his omission and the pain he’d caused. “Michael did ask me to protect you. I just… My ties to the Celestial Realm prevented me from telling you the rest.”

She laughed, harsh and cold. “One wants me dead, another wants me safe. The games you angels play with human lives.” She spun away to face the river. “Damn all of you!”

A stab of desperation shot through him. Even if she heard him out, she might never forgive him. For the first time in his immortal life, he faced losing what mattered most.