“It is very strange,” her father’s gaze looked to the castle gate. Wrought iron bars painted white sat open and inviting. “Maira, please stay back.”
“You don’t believe this is a trap, do you, Jeremiah?” Klina’s hand went to her belt, to the seraph dagger she always wore.
“I don’t believe so, but power can be earned outside of wedded unions.”
Maira’s stomach turned. They knew little of the Brigendale’s as their land was over a three days journey. While the clan’s name never rose with news of violence and death as it circulated, that didn’t mean they didn’t hide behind a glamour of somewhat peace to lure others in.
“I will not wait. My fleeing Niall put us in this predicament. I am trained enough with a blade.”
“That you do not have on you per my instruction.” Klina snipped. “Wait here. There is no other course.” Her mother glanced at the guards who’d walked beside the carriage – all Nephilim. “Follow.”
Without haste, all six drew their seraph blades and stepped from beside the carriage.
Maira watched as the party walked closer toward the palace. Her breath caught in her through as they walked through the gates.
Nothing happened—no rain of arrows or screams of attack. Eight angels merely walked into another palace.
“They must be wrong. Perhaps they’re not as power-hungry as we thought or know how we prefer a simpler life.” Still, Maira did not walk forward. She rarely disobeyed a direct order, even in her older age. She was not raised as most angels and following her parents lead suited her just fine. They’d carved a life for themselves that went mostly without attack. Their land was small, and few angels cared for it.
“Except the Dallen’s.”
She sighed and leaned against the carriage. Just a week ago, she’d grown to believe life was certainly about more than blood and power. Love was more important. Choosing love more important still.
Xander’s words still played over and over in her mind when she had no other thoughts. He loved her, but he’d been too afraid to stand by her.
“And he’d been right. I’d lost my mind believing I could make it work. He made me feel all manners of things that scrambled my head.”
It no longer mattered. He’d run, and she stood waiting to offer herself to another. Perhaps she and Thomas could learn to love one another, and it didn’t have to be a terrible life. Just a life without the handsome blacksmith who stole your attentions.
Without a timepiece, Maira wasn’t certain how much time passed, but it did not make sense that her parents had not come to retrieve her. Without any sign of attack, they should have returned and given the all clear. Marrying her off to protect the rest of their family was too significant for them to have simply forgotten and engaged in conversation.
A scream pierced the quiet, startling Maira. She could not make heads or tails if the cry was one of attack or pain.
Go. Spurred on with concern for her family, Maira dashed forward, her foot catching on the bottom of the emerald gown and sending her spiraling to the ground. Pain shot through Maira’s chin when it cracked against the stone. Her knee seemed to shatter as well, but she couldn’t be certain as her vision blurred from the strike.
Gritting her teeth, Maria pushed herself up, acknowledging the limp as she moved.
“Maira, get back!” Klina’s voice echoed from feet ahead inside the castle walls.
Maira went to move, but couldn’t, the pain of her injury toppling her to the ground again. A single fall should not have caused her such damage, but it had because she was weak – used to running through the world alongside a human instead of training to be a proper angel.
Blood streaked across her mother’s black gown when she appeared next to the gates. Her hair also bore the crimson splatters, though none of it seemed to be Klina’s. Fury etched across her brow as she turned, swinging the dagger in an arc and connecting it with someone behind her, Maria could not see.
Anard Dallen appeared. A gash marred his usually handsome features, blood dripping down his face and onto the ground as he stalked closer. The angel walked, not ran, twirling his blade as he did so. Maria froze, pain and shock forcing her to remain on her backside.
“I will kill every last angel. One by one, in the same manner.” He snarled, lifting his hand and shooting a blast of magic at her mother’s chest.
Klina stumbled backward but did not lose her footing. “I urge you to try it.”
Anard needed no provocation. He swung his blade. It slammed into an invisible barrier. Snarling, he tried again. Again it bounced away from her mother.
Klina’s laughter rang out, echoing in the empty courtyard. “Please, continue to strike me.” She looked to Maria, her eyes pleading with her daughter to get up and run. “You may try to kill all angels to rule all, but you will find there are bloodlines who cannot be killed by angel hands. A protection many older angels died to give a new generation.”
Maria knew of her mother’s gift. All women of the Vale line received the gift, Maira included despite the mixed linage with her father’s line.
“Father.” She choked, realizing if Anard chased her mother and Jeremiah did not come running, he was no longer of this world.
“That is no, never mind.” Anard released another bolt of blue. It struck her mother, this time sending her to the ground. “You’ll find movement is impossible now. Don’t fight, and it won’t end well.” He turned, his amber gaze training on Maira. “You must die for what you know. I can’t have a loose end thwarting my plans. Not when I’ve already taken over three sets of rule.”
Get up. Maira hissed, shoving her hands into the pavement until she rose. Pain drew blackness to her vision, but she moved this time.
“Hold your heart,” Klina shouted.
“Knowing what would come, Maira grasped the locket, not her chest. Anard did not realize he could not kill her, but he could do damage just the same and invite a human to take her life.
At once, the change began. Maira’s mother rather forced a shift on another. Maira’s vision blurred as the pain of a forced change took over. She stumbled forward, not surprised Anard refused to run to kill what he thought was a sitting duck.
Or a flying swan!
Maira flew, lifted into the sky with the transformation, and glanced at her mother.
“Go. We all know of his affliction. Do not look back. Go and save yourself. A swan’s life is better than none at all!”
Torn between attempting to pluck out Anard’s eyes to save her mother and flee, Maira barely dodged a zap of power meant to send her crashing back to earth.
Anard lost his wings decades ago. He could not fly to follow her, nor could he shift into any creature with wings.
With a nod of her head, Maira turned and flapped as hard as she could. Anard didn’t come alone, and she’d need to get far away to save herself and warn her kingdom.
If only she could figure out how to do so. When a shift was forced upon another, only once a month could they regain their human form under the full moon’s magic. It was far from a full moon, and Maira knew Anard would come for her kingdom next.
Chapter Seven
The clang of metal on metal rang in Xander’s ear as he pounded the horseshoe into submission.