A Matter of Time (The Angel Sight Series) (7 page)

I gripped the heavy blade tight in my hands, lifted it over my head, and slammed it down over Lucien’s throat. His skin parted, and coral-colored smoke wafted out from the small gash. Lucien himself didn’t move. I heaved the blade up and back. Lucien’s head dropped back, giving me better access to his still-intact neck. I wasn’t sure decapitating him would end his life the way Kade explained it did to an angel or a Fallen, but it had to do something.

I arced the sword up again, slicing through the air. An image of Lucien cracking a whip over my bare back appeared as quickly as it went. The blade lodged deeper into Lucien’s neck. Still not clean through. The top of the blade created a crater-sized divot in the ice beside him. More coral smoke wafted out, floating just above the puddle he laid in. I jerked the blade out again, so much red and white showing through the now-butchered slice in his neck.

Fatigue bored into me. My arms burned from the effort of swinging the sword which must have been forged out of a hundred pound barbell. My legs quaked and slid beneath me. With every ounce of physical strength remaining, I lifted the sword again. When I brought the blade down this time, I saw the image of Lucien’s face, his mouth twisting up into a smug grin as he peeled the flesh from my bones. The blade made contact, digging deeper into his vertebrae, but still not all the way through.

The echo of footsteps closed in. While I still had time left, I lifted the blade half as high, angled the tip down straight over his neck, and dropped to my knees, adding my body weight to the blow. An eerie
thwack
reverberated through the room, followed by several smaller clicking sounds. I used the handle of the blade to help me to my feet, driving it further through Lucien’s neck. The clicking continued, spider web cracks forming in the ice around Lucien. The footsteps quickened and multiplied, along with the shouts seeming to come from every direction and none at all.

Shifting the sword to one hand, I pulled the tip away from the fractures in the ice. With the other I grasped onto Lucien’s hair and wrenched his head free from his shoulders. The sound of his skin ripping nearly did me in. Dragging Shirtless’s sword behind me and with Lucien’s head in my other hand, I hauled myself toward the door.

I managed four painstaking steps before the world spun. My chest fractured and my protein bar betrayed me. Before I knew it, the cold sweat on my forehead nearly froze my entire body. Red swam in the puddle of partially digested protein bar at my feet. I spit and wiped my mouth with the sleeve of Shirtless’s old shirt. It too came away red. I pitched to the side, the spins taking me again. Either Lucien’s essence was killing my human body, or I was doing that all on my own by continuing to use his power.

On tired, shaky legs, I avoided my puddle and slung on the layered robes and mask hanging behind my cell door. Then I started my long journey down the hallway, leaving the sword behind.

I didn’t need a weapon. I was one.

Chapter Nine

Rayna

The soft, steady rhythm of the drum’s calling sharpened by the time I reached the doorway at the end of the long hallway. Bright lights illuminated the large cavern, all pointed toward the wide platform in front of Lucifer’s ice castle. Beyond the platform, an army of Fallen stared back at me. Their numbers must have been in the thousands. Eager black-winged soldiers of all shapes and sizes waiting for what I had to assume were orders from their leader.

The gathering of so many had to mean Lucifer had something up his sleeve.

I too had a secret. The head of his only son beneath my robes.

With the white mask secured snugly over my face, I pulled the robes tighter around my shoulders and tucked my wings under my arms in an effort to keep them concealed. I had no mirror to tell me if it had worked or if they were misting through the back of the robe. But I had hope and Lucien’s head, not to mention his power pulsing through my veins.

My body was still weak, too weak to move much faster than a very slow walk. That was probably in my favor, because if I could run, that was exactly what I’d be doing—and that would cause attention.

As I neared the bridge to cross the iced-over river, I spotted water flowing beneath the bridge freely. Not a hint of ice hardened the surface. In front of the bridge, people—humans—worked, piling huge blocks of ice onto a flat structure. Their limbs were thin, gray, pallid skin stretched over bone, their bodies the same, showing hints of ribs and spines under their shredded clothes.

These were Lucifer’s workers from the river. His tirelessly working souls. The ones that must have led such unredeemable lives on Earth to endure whatever torture Lucifer himself deemed worthy.

I stopped where the corner of the bridge met the ledge. The drop-off down the canyon to the river turned my stomach. Beneath my robes I extended my arm that still gripped tight to Lucien’s head. His eyes were open, rolled back in his skull. His face was dead, every muscle slack.

As I dangled Lucien over the canyon, one of Lucifer’s workers across the bridge turned to look at me so suddenly I ceased to breathe. The hair on her head was sparse and her skin drooped so far down her face it was a miracle her eyes remained in their sockets. When she didn’t immediately call out a warning or move to get someone’s attention, I knelt beside the drop-off.

“He is Lucien, son of Lucifer,” I whispered barely loud enough for myself to hear. I put faith into believing this soul hated Lucifer as much as I did Lucien and would help extend his suffering. “Can I entrust you with his head?”

The woman’s whisper carried up from the bottom of the canyon instead of across from it where she stood. “We will take care that no one will ever find him.”

I nodded my thanks and forced myself to release Lucien’s blood-soaked hair. We both watched as he tumbled down and disappeared into the river that would eventually freeze.

Hopefully, with the souls’ help, Lucifer would never find him. Hopefully Lucien was still somehow alive and the souls below could torture him the way his father had been torturing them for who knew how long. Hopefully I’d sentenced him to a fate worse than death.

I took my time crossing the bridge. The ground was cold and slick, and there were so many eyes on me. All I had to do was make it past the platform—the stage—and through all the Fallen; the angels that once were. Most of them carried a weapon of some kind strapped to their hips or backs.

The sour taste of blood still permeated my mouth. My feathers were slick with sweat. But all I had to do was push forward. I kept my head down, stuck to the far side of the canyon wall, and just kept moving.

The drums centered on the stage pounded punishingly. The Fallen beyond the stage chattered quietly amongst themselves, all wondering why the gathering was called. That little nugget of curiosity swam around in my head too. The further away I moved from the stage, the thicker the cluster of Fallen became. I noticed several masked heads turn my way, but no one stopped me. Hopefully they assumed I was Lucien, the only being down here I’d seen with a human body and no wings. Then again, I was about a foot shorter than him.

Just keep walking.

One Fallen directly in front of me stood alone, not in the crowd, but not moving either. A long sword swung beneath his robe. I swallowed and skirted around him with all the bravery I could summon. He turned and followed me; I could hear it in his footsteps.

My chest rattled the sound of a sick, scared heart.

I kept an ear out, timing his steps. He couldn’t be certain of who I was, and I’d use this power until it killed me if it meant a chance to claw my way out of this hellhole.

The Fallen closed in on me fast, walking so he was almost clipping my heels.

A hand touched my back, broad fingers splaying over my shoulder blade, and my wing. I jerked up, straightening my shoulders, but never stopped walking.

I edged to the right, almost brushing the cave wall with my arm so he could pass. Instead, he turned and faced me. The whitish mask elongated his face. The black accents around his eyes that were meant to look like his eyebrows were permanently quirked. The creased lines beside the mask’s exaggerated mouth seemed to be mocking me, waiting for me, telling me I’d been captured.

I clenched my fists, but nodded once at the Fallen, hoping he’d take the hint of my acknowledgment and move on.

He didn’t.

“Ray?” His voice was below a whisper, so low I swore I’d imagined it.

But the sound, the deep, familiar tone … no. I’d imagined it.

I angled my shoulder toward the wall and squeezed between him and the rock, always moving, but could feel his body behind me.

“Ray,” he said again. This time it stopped me dead. My stomach clenched. My knees turned to rubber, and my eyes watered. I turned to meet him straight on.

“Kade?” I kept my voice low with so many of the Fallen nearly on top of us. But I could already hear the tears in my voice.

He nodded once. His mask tipped only slightly. Keeping my arm low to ensure my wing stayed tucked away, I leaned against the rock wall for support. Little good it did with my world crumbling around me. My resolve faded much like the lives of Lucifer’s souls, gray and bone thin.

“Keep walking,” he grunted.

I used the wall again to help me turn, then to help me walk, still keeping the upper part of my arm clamped down on my wings.

A shout loud and deep enough to rattle the walls exploded behind us. I picked up my pace, Kade still at my heels while surveying the Fallen around us. They had become quieter, curious, some craning their heads up above the sea of ink-black wings.

Several sloppy thuds boomed on the drums before the rhythm died. Quiet stillness blanketed the cave. Kade tugged my sleeve once in warning. I looked back to find he had turned. The Fallen drummer collected what was left of his drums, hollow shells with holes along the top, and dragged them offstage.

Lucifer clutched a microphone in the center of the stage, the skin from the drums still in his fist. “The girl has escaped!” His voice bellowed up the cavernous walls toward the ceiling, carrying back to the last row of Fallen. “I summoned you all here to experience the scope of our new weapon.” He gestured behind him where six gray-skinned souls carried a car-sized block of ice on their backs. “To witness our future victory in action.”

“We should go,” I whispered to Kade.

He tightened his grip on my sleeve.

My pulse raced, throwing my head into a spiral. What if Kade’s act on Earth—the feeding, killing, and obeying that Lucien and Az had forced me to watch—hadn’t been an act at all? If Lucifer had put him through the same kind of torture he’d used on me, there was a good possibility Kade had broken. It was hard to believe after he willingly entered Hell to be with me.

I glanced at him, his mask concealing everything I needed to see.

Anything was possible.

The block of ice landed on the stage with a crack, freeing tiny rocks from the ceiling. The ice slid almost to the edge of the stage while the souls returned to their river.

I prayed the woman would make good on her promise to hide Lucien’s head so it could never be reattached.

“To show how powerful she is, I arranged for a demonstration.” Lucifer climbed atop the block and held out his hand. Two Fallen marched an angel onto the stage. A real angel. Kade must have heard my sharp intake of breath, because his head turned slightly and his shoulders went rigid. The angel’s white wings hung low, mangled, his body covered in whip marks and dried blood. “This, children, is Lofiel, an angel.”

The crowd collectively chanted their approval.

I struggled not let the hate brewing inside me overcome my common sense. Charging the stage to find out if I could kill Lucifer, too, was a bad idea. But it was there, brewing.

“I had planned for our guest of honor to regale us with a show. Her escape is a hitch in those plans. However, all is not lost. The angel’s life is still in her hands.” Lucifer threw the angel down, forcing him to his knees atop the block of ice. “There is no escape, Rayna, not from here, and not from me.” His growl stitched terror into my bones. He hadn’t said it in so many words, but he must have known I’d killed his son.

“Return now,” Lucifer continued, “and I will spare this abomination’s life.”

“Now we should go,” Kade said, giving my sleeve a small tug.

“I can’t let him die,” I whispered back.

“He’s been captured, brought to Hell. He’s already dead.” He spun me around, then urged me forward.

“So far we’ve gone easy on you, child. This. Ends. Now!” Lucifer bellowed.

The sound of a sword slammed into the ice stage. Two things dropped. The angel’s head, and then his body. My knees gave out, but Kade kept me upright and moving.

“Find her!” Lucifer’s voice boomed again, shaking the cave.

“Stand on your tiptoes,” Kade whispered close to my ear.

I balked at his order. “What?”

“You’re too short. You’ll be spotted.”

He was right. I did as he said, but it meant walking so much slower and unsteadily on the uneven terrain.

The crowd of Fallen dispersed, some removing their masks, but thankfully not all. We fell into step with a group heading toward the ice caverns that Shirtless and Fornicator had brought me through. Kade yanked me out of line and pulled us in another direction.

“What are you doing? That’s the way out,” I hissed.

“Not the way I came.”

He led us in a different direction, one few Fallen had gone because of its distance from the stage. Again doubt crept in. Kade had been a different person on that screen. On Earth. What could he have done in order to gain enough trust from Lucien to get him out of here? How had he returned? And why? There were certain things I had to know.

“How did you—”

“Sir.” A Fallen stopped in our path, lowering his head.

Shit.

I stretched higher on my toes and stopped. Now would be the perfect time to call to the hate clouding my thoughts, but with Kade here, no matter how unsure I was about him, I couldn’t use my light. Thinking fast, I tipped my mask a fraction of an inch, then tried to channel Lucien. What would he do? How had he treated his army? I walked around him without wasting a word on him, hoping Kade would follow. He did.