“Damn it,” the curse was lost in the array of sounds as he worked.
Despite his eyes on the horseshoe, Xander’s mind was on Maira. It would only ever be on Maira. He’d often thought her to be a Nephilim, but the knowledge she was an angel was far more of a betrayal.
She played with him, turned him into her plaything so that she could find amusement.
“Except she claims she loves you and Hannibal believes it.” Xander snarled and struck the shoe again. “Of course, he does, she’s an angel, she can control him.”
Still, nothing would rid her beautiful face from his mind or clear the infectious sound of her laugh from his ears.
She was an angel, of that there was no doubt, but she was so very different from angels ought to be. Where most used humans for their bodies and discarded them, she remained his for half a decade. Maira never seemed to favor war and bloodlust and was particularly terrible the time she’d playfully tried to wield a sword he’d commissioned. She asked questions were most angels killed and moved on. Maira attempted to learn things she did not know, not conquer and run.
Well, she did run. A lot.
“Am I ever going to be free of her?”
The empty workspace did not answer back, it couldn’t. Only Xander could answer his question and he already knew the answer. He was in love with an angel, and he was not a coward. Setting down the hammer he tugged off the work gloves.
“Then you know what you have to do.” Grabbing a bucket of water, Xander doused the flames and tossed the bucket to the side.
He had to go get her, to apologize and pray she spared his life. He wouldn’t run away from her simply for who she was. Not without giving her the benefit of the doubt. So, he would go to the king and queen.
Grabbing a burlap tie from off a hook, Xander pulled open the door, wincing at the bright sunlight. “You can do this.” Swallowing, Xander gripped the cloth firmly in his right hand and prayed his feet would respond and move toward the back of town toward the palace entrance.
He’d never once sought audience with an angel, but it seemed he’d been entertaining one for years. The king and queen often met with humans to keep them in line. He’d figure out a way to ensure they didn’t kill him on sight.
Three Nephilim stood guard in a semi-circle blocking the entrance to the castle. A few dozen human could easily take them down, but they wouldn’t get far before the angels inside struck them down. Their blades were drawn, held tensely in front of their faces as their eyes remained forward.
“I need audience. It’s about a female angel.”
One spoke without moving. “Name.”
“Xander.”
“The angel’s. Yours is of no importance.”
“Maira.”
The blade wavered. “The one who fled Niall.” The center guard’s lip pulled up into a smirk. “If there is news on her, I’m certain his kin care after she disgraced them.” The guard stepped to the side and said no more.
Xander paused, uncertain if he were to walk if they’d strike him down. When they did not speak again, he made his choice and began to move.
The hallway was everything he’d anticipated. Ornate molding decorated the wall and was covered in gold leaving. The filigree covered the walls and ceiling, and portraits hung ever few feet. Dozens of angels painted the canvases telling the tale of the rule over Yeld.
“Stop,” a voice called from the end of the hall. “Humans may go no further.”
Nerves drew his stomach into knots as Xander slipped the burlap fabric over his eyes and began to tie it against the back of his head. “I seek an audience to discuss the angel Maira.” Being blind startled him. The angel could attack and he would never know. He lived his life by the light of the forge, not in darkness.
“Ah, Maira of Pire. Beautiful angel, pity about her family.” The sound of someone shuffling at the end of the hall drew his attention, but he dared not lift the blindfold.
“I have news of her.”
“None that would be of use. The family is gone.”
He cocked his head to the side. “What does gone mean?”
“The tale speaks of betrayal and death. Her land is ruled by none but protected by powerful magic from Queen Klina so none can attack those within the palace.”
“Death?”
“I know humans are daft, but you seem to be having trouble. They are dead. Slain by the Dallen clan and left strewn about Castle Brigendale where she sought a marriage union to strengthen her army.”
Dead. The word swirled, and the hallway seemed to do the same. Xander lost his balance and his hand crashed against the wall keeping him upright.
“She can’t be dead.”
“I assure you, she is.”
“I just saw her.”
A sharp point pressed against his neck drawing a prick of pain.
“The punishment for that is death.”
“I understand, but she was pretending to be human.”
A sound of disgust and the blade pressed deeper. “Do not tell lies.”
“I speak the truth. I came to learn of her kingdom. I came to see if she truly were an angel and I would die by her hand.”
It wasn’t entirely untruthful. If he followed her, she might have killed him.
“Her family was weak. It’s why they’ve been destroyed. She would not have taken your life as she should have.” Again the blade pressed in. This time drawing blood as warmth trickled down his neck. “I do not serve her family and have no need to kill this time. Consider yourself lucky.” The blade withdrew.
Lucky. The woman I love is dead. He pressed his lips together. He would travel to her kingdom and then believe the story. There could be no truth without proof. You’re going to get yourself killed for her – which is why you left in the first place.
“Is there a reason you remain? Were you seeking death this day?”
“I am merely in shock.”
“I urge you to regain your senses and leave. Humans have no place here and your report is useless.”
The guards didn’t know. The single thought brought him hope the tale was incorrect. Pire was less than a days ride from him and he could see for himself. Do you want to?
The thought was foolish. He loved an angel and he would die if it meant seeing her one last time and learning the truth.
Xander just had a few details to care for first.
Chapter Eight
Maria held her breath as she glanced up at the darkening night sky. Any moment, the full moon would come into view and she could regain her human form and warn her people.
For two weeks she’d watched from afar with little more than an obnoxious toad, a small sparrow, and an aging tortoise following her around. They sensed what she truly was and did not find her presence in their forest comforting. Still, they could not run her out.
Maira waited just outside the palace, watching as best as she could. Twice she’d attempted to gain entry, hoping someone would allow a white swan entry remembering the form their princess chose. Not even her cousin did. The windows remained locked tight, and the palace gate sealed shut. They’d heard of the deaths from Dallen himself when he arrived to kill them all and found her mother’s wards in place.