Chapter 17 - Wings of Lies

“If you don’t do it, darling, then I will,” a sickly sweet feminine voice said. Burgundy manicured nails, overlaid with a purple haze, pointed in front of me at a beautiful girl backed by a wall of ancient pillars. She was young, maybe seventeen, with dark freckled skin and copper hair. Eyes of piercing amber stared at me while silent lines of water slid down her cheeks, dripping off her chin to the rusty stone.

I didn’t recognize her.

“Please,” she said, voice cracking, shifting her attention behind me.

My head shook back and forth, shifting the purple haze. I couldn’t stop the movement of my head or control it. Which meant I was invading the body of a past version of myself, reliving a memory. But I couldn’t tell how old I was. My gaze never strayed down to my torso. It stayed on the tragic bronzed beauty I couldn’t remember.

Tears pooled in my eyes as I nearly broke my jaw clenching it so hard, further confusing me. A great wall separated me from fully connecting to my emotions and this moment. That was a new development.

“I will not ask again. If you do not lift your hand, I will do it for you. And you do not want that,” a voice said behind me, sounding like caramelized sugar over razor blades.

Out of everything in this dream, the ancient courtyard, the ominous black sky, the curvy sobbing girl, that voice was the only thing I recognized.

The alluring, dark sound was hard to forget. It was the woman with sinuous curves and dark features who was in my last dream-walk. I remembered everything from that dream-walk and the one before of the stranger and my erupting powers. But the rest were fragmented pieces of my amulet, someone after me and my mom, and a deadly conversation about my dream-walking powers.

If that man who spoke of my powers was right, then there were two aspects of my dream-walking abilities: one where I relived memories and the other where I gave memories the power to change. But did that mean I changed just the memory, or was it bigger than that? He also said something about time and jumping dreams.

The last dream-walk wasn’t my memory. I wasn’t born yet.

Whose dream did I jump into, and could I find my mom this way?

A sharp cry pulled me from my renewed hope. Regret wrinkled the forehead of the girl in front of me, and sorrow twisted her lips. If I could climb the wall separating the connection between my thoughts and emotions, I bet I would better understand the water threatening to overtake my eyes.

“It’s okay,” she said, crying harder. “It’s okay.”

From my tears, it wasn’t okay.

Rusty brown stained the rock beneath the girl’s leathered shoes, only in that spot. Against my will, my fists trembled as they attempted to rise, lifting a couple of inches before falling back to my side. I released more soundless tears, so unlike the sobs that burst from the curvy, freckled girl.

“It’s okay.” She nodded like she believed it. “Don’t let her win.”

A sense of apprehension hit me as she tried to keep the wobble from her legs. Something terrible was about to happen, and I officially wanted to leave this puppeteering dream.

“But I always win,” the woman behind me stated.

The sobs that overtook the girl changed abruptly to ear-piercing screams. Her limbs stretched wide, pulled by invisible strings. Dark red smoke manifested around her spread-eagle body, lifting her into the sky until she was the size of my hand. At a certain height, the young girl stopped screaming. The wisps of red undulated and changed shape, holding her in place.

“Please,” I begged, my voice a faint and broken whisper I didn’t recognize.

It wasn’t my voice, and this wasn’t my body.

“You’ve made your choice, love,” she sighed. Her breath brushed the back of my neck. “I told you time and time again. If this is what I need to do to acquire your obedience. So be it.” The rolling red smoke that surrounded the girl vanished.

“No,” I shouted, jerking forward as if I’d catch her but stopping short as the same power that held the girl wrapped around my wrists. My eyes narrowed on it. Flames jolted from my skin, burning away the red smoke chaining me in place. But each time I burned it away, a next tendril would take its place. I used more of my power, dragging my bloody knees against the stone, draining myself to reach the girl with copper hair plummeting to her death.

I fought to cover more ground, stretching out desperately until my fingertips grazed her copper hair just as she slammed into the unforgiving ground. Bones broke, flesh tore, and her blood sprayed into my face.

The force fighting against me released. I crawled toward the heap of green cloth. Her orange hair glistened, soaked through with blood. Brushing back the strands that covered her face, the air in my lungs stilled. Her amber eyes were dull, unseeing.

An anvil of power struck the wall that separated me from my emotions, turning it into dust. Agony flooded my mind, stabbing my chest and piercing my soul.

I brushed the wavy strands further from her face, smearing blood and tears, bowing my head against her forehead as a sob crawled up my throat.

“Nalini,” I cried.

No. Not me. Aspen.

Before I could think about the implications, pressure, unlike anything I’d ever known, filled me—and so much blinding anger.

Fury intertwined with all-consuming agony. They pulled at something molten writhing inside me. The pressure swelled. With one last look at the stunning face, feeling a shattering in my soul, I whipped back my head and raged to the skies. Ungodly heat barreled to the surface of my skin. Bright light erupted, shaking the ground before a dark red cloud snuffed it out.

“You will obey me.”

“Hey Lucille, time to wake up.” A gentle hand pressed into my shoulder. I jolted, looking around. Hope and agony tightened my throat.

Was that real? Did I just witness that girl’s death through Aspen’s eyes? And how did I dream-walk to his memory? I needed to figure out how to control this power.

“Lucille? Are you okay?” She touched my shoulder again.

I glanced over to a head of frizzy red graying hair, freezing.

She actually was short and green. I didn’t hallucinate it. She was a foot taller than the bed. Her white shirt hung to her knees, covering loose pants rolled up to her scaly ankles.

My eyebrows scrunched. The scales weren’t there last night, or maybe they were.

“The blood loss had you addled. You passed out, but the serum should be taking effect. Although it will take time to remove the toxins of their saliva completely.” she said, assuming the expression on my face was about my state. I was thankful she couldn’t read my thoughts.

“What are you?” I asked, staring at the red surrounding her yellow-slitted pupils.

She smiled, nodding down to my torso. “May I?”

I slid the covers off my body. Someone clothed me in loose blue pants and a white t-shirt. Hana, I hoped. My cheeks started to heat at the memory of my exposed breasts.

She lifted my shirt, peeled back the gauze pads, and surveyed the stitches. They were still bleeding slightly and very red, but by her nod of approval, that was okay. Moving to my legs, she pulled up the loose pants and had me turn. “I’m a half-breed. Part human and part serpent demon.” She talked as she took something out of her pocket, lightly dabbing the sticky substance on my cuts. “Hence the scales and the eyes,” she said with a soft laugh.

I didn’t know what to say to that. First angels and angel half-breeds, now demons and demon-half breeds? Imagining a human and a demon together was horrifying. If this was what Hana looked like, what did her parents look like? Did humans willingly want to breed with demons? I bit my cheeks hard, attempting to school my features before she found the horror on my face.

Her gloved fingers slid over my stitches with the sweet-smelling substance. A safer question popped out of my mouth, “Why are you applying honey to my cuts?”

She dabbed a little more before wrapping my legs with gauze. “It’s to prevent infection. Angel or demon, quick healing or not, you can still get an infection.”

“Isn’t there something better to use?”

Pale green lips revealed a flash of sharp teeth. My Glory prickled at the sight.

“You’ll come to find Elora is nothing like your Earth. We healers don’t have the same medicines and machinery. We don’t even have electricity. Plants, herbs, skills, and magic are our resources. And if we are lucky, sometimes we can get human medicine. But can you really see someone like me going to a hospital and asking for antibiotic ointment?”

I couldn’t see a lot of things, or unsee, as I watched her forked tongue flick out and again wondered about her parents. “No.”

“You don’t have to be scared.” Her tongue flicked out once more. It was such a small thing, and yet I couldn’t control my out-of-control heart and painful skin. Please don’t erupt.

“I can sense it. It’s a useful skill when you’re a healer.”

Her words were meant to console me, but her razor teeth and slitted eyes kept capturing my attention.

She carefully tugged my pant legs down and had me sit back. “We aren’t all bad. Many, yes. But not all.”

Smooth scales touched the top of my hand, patting me. Her black-tipped fingernails grazed my knuckles. I stared at them as my vortex of panic stole the last of my minuscule restraint.

My hands erupted when she pulled back, only catching the tip of the white flames. She hissed.

“Heavenly shit! I’m so sorry! Oh my gosh!” And like a complete and utter idiot, I waved them around to put them out like it’d actually work this time.

Hana gave me an amused smile, dabbing a little honey on her blisters. “It’s okay. I have children in here who don’t know how to control their powers either. Here”—she rummaged through her bag—“take a sip of this,” then held a vial near my lips. “It’ll suppress your flames for a few minutes.”

I took a sip. The clear liquid tasted sweet against my tongue; a lot better than what she gave me last night. Immediately, warmth pooled in my chest, silencing my flames. The tension in my shoulders eased, and I sighed, at peace. It was easy, like my amulet was.

“Thanks.”

She smiled. “Your injuries are stable. It’ll take two to six days for them to fully heal. Check them each day to see how they’re fairing. As for your broken bones, your pinky suffered a tiny fracture, but it’s healed now. Your wrist may need one more day.”

“That fast?”

The kindness never left her eyes, but a hint of worry made her smile vanish. “You’re at least part angel, and I suspect a high-level one, or you wouldn’t have made it through the first night. The Hellhound’s saliva is designed to invade your bloodstream and stop coagulation so they can drink you dry. If you were human, you would’ve gone into multiple organ failure the moment Prince Aspen reached my door. It was only through your accelerated healing you survived. So yes, once the serum removes the rest of those toxins, it’ll be that fast. As for your bones, they usually take longer, but Aspen told me you received them a few days ago. Still, last night put you back, but as long as you don’t use your flames for a day or two, you should be fine.”

I nodded in understanding. But that was a big ask.

“Can’t I just take some of that serum?” I pointed at the small vial on the bedside table. The calming liquid filled half the bottle. I’d probably need more than that.

She gave me an odd look. “It suppresses your power. You’ll take weeks to heal instead of days.”

“That’s okay.” It could help me hide my powers if they got out of hand while I attempted to practice with them.

Her eyes narrowed. “Sorry, Lucille. This is the last vial I have until I go to buy more from Magda, and since she lives a couple of days away, I can’t give you it.”

I jolted. “Did you say, Magda?”

Hana nodded.

This was it. This was the help I needed. I latched onto Hana’s arm. “I was told to find her. That she can answer my questions. Can she? Where is she?”

Hana looked at me warily.

“Please, tell me. I have to find her.” I didn’t know if it was the eagerness in my voice or the desperation in my eyes, but with a glance back at the closed door, Hana bowed her head and sighed, coming to some conclusion.

“Lucille, her answers come at a steep price and are not always clear. Plus, you won’t be traveling that way. As the human walks, it’s two days North of here, and you’re traveling Southeast.”

“Then help me escape. Tell them I ran away,” I pleaded.

Hana bowed her head, dropping her gaze from my begging eyes. “I can’t.”

Sagging back, I stared at the ceiling as tears leaked from the corner of my eyes. Of course, she couldn’t. Why would it ever be that simple for me?

“But in the Drune Forest, which you will go through on the way, there are creatures there called Drunes. No one knows what they are, but they’ve been here longer than most. They’ve seen a lot and know even more.” Pity and kindness wove around her resigned words.

“Do they have a price?”

“Yes. It usually comes in the form of blood.”

I fiddled with the hem of my shirt. “How much blood?”

Hana stepped closer, gripping my bicep. “Don’t be so eager. Blood is a dangerous currency to give away. In the wrong hands, it can do a lot of damage. Make sure the answers you want are worth it before seeking them out.”

She shifted her ear toward the door like she heard something and released me. “There are some extra clothes in the closet I found for you. Get dressed. Aspen is ready to leave as soon as you are.” She handed me a ball of gauze and a small pouch filled with something. “Your rib stitches should be fine with the gauze pads, but if you’d like them covered more securely, you can wrap more around your body. That”—she pointed at the pouch—“is if, for some reason, you don’t heed my warnings on using your power and end up bleeding again. It’ll clot your blood long enough to allow your fast healing to kick in. I gave Aspen an extra sterile needle and thread, too.” Hana shook her head. “I may have taught that male how to stitch, but trust me, it’s better if you heal without his grumpy ass.”

“Thank you.” I held the gauze and pouch, studying her face. It was odd hearing anyone talk about Aspen so fondly. Especially when I could see the guilt in her frown lines. Hana may not approve of Aspen holding me against my will, but she’d do nothing to stop it. She cared for him, and by what he said about her, he cared for her, too. Or at least respected her.

After last night, I couldn’t think my princely jailor was heartless anymore. But he wasn’t far off.

Hana put the calming liquid in her bag, unfortunately, and walked to the door, hand on the knob. “Aspen is loyal to his queen and is the commander of her armies. He has ninety years’ worth of swordplay and magic.”

I jolted, forgetting angel blood made you immortal. Aspen looked young, like twenties young, not somewhere near or over ninety.

“Brock has the power to sense more than you know. And now Aspen can too,” she muttered the last part to herself.

What did that mean?

“Why are you telling me all this? You don’t want to help me escape, but you’ll give me information?”

Concern lined her pinched brows. “I want you to escape. I just can’t be the one to do it. Even if I wanted to betray Aspen, they’d know. It’s nearly impossible to escape them. Females before you have tried. Either the forest creatures kill them, or Brock beats them to submission. But I despise his queen and everything she stands for. Aspen,” her voice cracked. “Has been through hell and survived it, both because of her. It’s changed him. Yet his loyalty remains sound, and I don’t know why. He is good. He is. I swear.” She urged as if trying to convince me, then gathered herself. “Aspen told me you have a lot of power, Lucille. His queen wants it. She’s been searching for the key to her cage for centuries. She thinks you’re it. Protect yourself and find a way out before you cross into the Tenebrous Kingdom.” That was the last thing she said before walking out.

Holding back tears, I unwrapped myself from the blankets. My body throbbed, but the soreness would be my new constant companion until I healed. I walked gingerly to the closet and opened a mirrored door. Inside hung a white t-shirt similar to the one Hana wore, a black jacket made of the same heavy material as Aspen’s cloak, and a pair of black pants with red accents.

Once dressed, I stared at myself and the hollow despair leaking into the purple bags under my eyes. They stood out against my fair skin. “What did you get yourself into?” I whispered to my reflection.

Gingerly, I sat down on the bed, scanning the uncomfortable shirt. My pancake chest shoved at the tight material more than I wanted. The jacket was at least semi-comfortable. But now I looked like Aspen. Why couldn’t I stop thinking about his name? Was I so starved for attention that the thought of the crinkles creasing his eyes as he saw me bleeding out moved me?

But it was difficult not to sympathize with him for what he witnessed. Someone murdered the girl he cared for.

A knock sounded at my door.

Since when did anyone knock? “Yes?”

“I have your food,” Aspen said.

I stared out the window. “I’m not hungry.”

Aspen opened the door, standing with an unyielding expression, a hand behind his back, and an egg and cheese sandwich in his other. Dark, wet strands of hair clung to his forehead and curled near his chiseled cheekbones. His skin gleamed flawless against the crisp, black uniform that showed no trace of dirt or Hellhound gunk. Why did he have to look like that? Why couldn’t my captor be ugly?

“You will eat, Lucille.”

At least the ominous red glow under his chin, coupled with his glare, served as a reminder that appearances meant nothing.

“How do you know my name?” He shouldn’t be allowed to use it.

For a moment, he stayed quiet, and then he walked to where I sat. The red glow lessened the closer he came. He set the plate and sandwich on my lap. “You told me.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Eat. You need nutrients to heal.”

I glared up at him.

“Why do you care when your queen will either use me or lose me?” Yeah, I remembered that little phrase. However, the word lose confused me. I understood use all too well. If he cared for my well-being, it wasn’t because, in the last week, I somehow got under his cold exterior; it was because I needed to be whole and ready to be used by his queen.

His jaw muscle pulsed, and a faint blue glow hovered in his eyes. I raised a brow in challenge. When he said nothing, I scoffed and gazed at the rising sun behind the dark forest.

I hated him. I hated this. I hated that I had no one.

Small vibrations tickled my chin as Aspen jerked me to face him. His mouth opened, ready to spew his next demand, then stopped. At first, I thought the unnatural tingles from his touch surprised him. But that wasn’t it. Not as his gaze roved over me, taking in my sponge-bathed face, my peculiar eyes, and the tight white shirt under a black jacket. His pupils dilated. My cheeks heated.

“Like what you see?” I snapped.

His lips pursed into a hard line. A deafening silence charged the air between us until he let go of my chin and picked up my sandwich, pressing it against my lips.

“Bite.”

“No.”

“Lucille.”

“Aspen.”

He flinched. I grimaced, hating myself for the slip-up. He wasn’t anything but a cold asshole, taking me against my will. I bit the sandwich then, hoping to take off his fingers. To my disappointment, my teeth only grazed them, sending a jolt I wasn’t expecting into my lips.

I jerked back at the same time he did. The large mouth of food was hard to chew. Eventually, it sank like a tasteless lump in my stomach as we glared at each other.

Satisfied, Aspen brought forward his hidden jangling hand. I broke our glaring match as I took in the sight of a pair of black metal cuffs.

“You’re not putting those on me.”

“And since when did you think you had a choice?”

I hated him.

“Do you ever tire of the constant arrogant mask you wear? Or have you been wearing it so long you forgot what it’s like not to be a princely asshole?”

With the cuffs in hand, he dropped to my ankles. “These won’t electrocute you, but in exchange, they suppress everything but your healing,” he said, unphased by my insult. “You won’t be able to feel your powers or melt them off like the last ones. These cuffs only come off by key.”

“Don’t put them on me. Please.”

I needed to practice my powers and learn how to control my dream-walks. I also needed to find my mom and then escape.

My Glory woke up from my panicked thoughts, poking me.

Aspen’s eyes flashed, like my begging pissed him off. “You should never have come to Elora.”

“Aspen,” I pleaded.

Before my Glory could surge and I could use it against him, he tore open the cuffs and hastily snapped them onto my ankles, brushing the sliver of my skin exposed between my pants and socks. My Glory vanished, and tingles skittered up my legs from his touch.

“Put your boots on, and let’s go,” he demanded. But his demand seemed guilty and painful. Yet, I didn’t gather that from his tone and couldn’t see his expression. So why did I think that? Before I could analyze his face, he luscelered out the door.

I clanked my way down the hall, taking small steps to prevent pulling on my stitches, feeling more like a prisoner than ever.

Hana was in the kitchen washing a pan. She glanced up at the noises of my chains, yellow pupils narrowing. “He wasn’t always like this,” she said.

But it didn’t matter what my princely jailor used to be or that he had moments where he may be one percent less of a terrible person. He was still an asshole, bastard, and every other curse word. I glared at the black metal around my ankles—and I was still his prisoner.

“Thanks for saving me,” I said, bitter.

“Don’t give up, Lucille,” she whispered.

Ignoring her comment, I touched my frizzy waves. “Do you have anything to keep my hair out of my face?”

After putting my hair up with a rubber band and bobby pins, my ankle cuffs dragged along the threshold, quieting when I walked out onto the grass. The soft clinking turned to a harsh clanking when I hit gravel. I stumbled as my chains caught on rocks, righting myself before I face-planted. When I looked up, I saw my absolute favorite angel.

Brock stood at the front of an upgraded carriage, and by upgrade, I mean less boxy with a fancy paint job and two small windows instead of one, but it still appeared old and rickety. He met my glare with a cocky lift of his mustache and a smug glimmer in his pink eyes. “Nice cuffs.”

My fingers twitched, wanting to flip him off. But I wasn’t feeling another injury just yet. I trudged to the back of the carriage. Cacus and Bael, the demon grenades, were already huddled inside. Dreading the pain I’d soon feel, I placed my hands on the wooden ledge. Before I pushed myself up, a hand grabbed my shoulder.

“You won’t be back there.”

I turned to glare, quite done with Aspen’s touches. Not understanding my clear as day back the hell up eyes, Aspen continued to grip me firmly. The tingling sensation hid behind my barrier of clothing.

“Did you hear me?” he asked. “I want you in front with Brock. It won’t jostle your stitches as much. You’ll be in less pain despite the company.”

“Are you going to let go of me so I can move up front?”

He let go, only to grab my wrists. His stupid hands tingled against my skin, and it felt good. The tingles always felt good, and I hated that just like I hated his gentle hold.

I pulled, trying to get away. He dropped my unwrapped wrist to rub at the stubble on his jaw but didn’t let go of the other. “Is it feeling better?” he asked.

Out of all my wounds, my wrist gave me the least bit of pain.

“Stop acting like you care.”

His expressionless stare narrowed, and he let go of my broken wrist. I met his irritation with a smug smile. Holding his gaze, I found his purple ring, which told me he was part angel and one other.

It was the color of the sky right before the sun disappeared behind the horizon—a dark cobalt sitting next to a deep purple.

If I cared enough, I may have asked him what it meant. Instead, I left to climb into the carriage. My jangling links caught on each step, making me grind my teeth. At least I had a cushioned seat.

Brock clicked, urging the horses on with the reins.

Golden light shone through the trees as we moved, signaling early dawn. Rays swallowed up the leaves. The dew-covered forest shimmered like faceted jewels. Hundreds of specs of light reflected on my skin, and not only my skin, but Brocks, and the horses. All around us golden rays reflected and refracted. It was breathtaking and otherworldly.

It was the first glimpse of the Elora I had hoped to see when I first arrived.

But now, it was difficult to care about the beauty.

“It’s called Aurum Forest. It’s a word for gold. The name’s pretty explanatory at this time of day,” Brock stated.

I ignored him.

“Take it in now. It’ll be the last pleasant thing you’ll see.”

“Ah yes, your bitch queen.” I mirrored his goading tone, hoping to rile him up.

To my surprise, Brock laughed. His throaty laughter shook his long gray beard. “I hope you didn’t say that to the prince.”

I glared. That wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for. “I did indeed.”

His laughter stopped, bushy eyebrows shooting into his hairline. “The prince doesn’t take kindly to insults to his queen.”

No kidding. The almost sword to the throat and flaming blue eyes weren’t a dead giveaway or anything. But that didn’t mean I was going to stop. They both deserved every insult I had.

“Where is this horrid queen of yours?” I asked.

Brock took his time answering. Clip clops and jangling chains stole my attention until he spoke. “The capital Deava. Most likely tearing apart the last couple of prisoners we gave her.”

“Tearing apart, how?”

A gruesome smile lifted his mustache as his eyes transitioned to a blood red. “I’ve never seen what’s done. You’d have to ask the prince. I only clean up the aftermath.” He rubbed the red beads decorating his beard, looking thoughtful. “She’s pretty gruesome to her victims. Her pit is a mess of limbs and torn bodies. It’s almost full. After she discards you, we’ll have to make arrangements to clear it out.”

I stared at him, taking in his apathetic words. My fate was to be discarded and left to rot on top of a pile of shredded bodies?

“So how much longer do I have with my pitiful life?” I asked, glancing down at my cuffs.

“Three days. Two until we hit the boundary line.”

“Boundary line?”

He focused back on the road. The carriage creaked and groaned as it moved across the rough ground. “Separates her kingdom from The Divide.”

Two days until I was in her impenetrable land. Two days to figure out how to unlock my cuffs, practice my powers, dream-walk, and escape.