Dance of Wings (Curse of the Guardians #7)

2. Scarlet

Chapter 2

Scarlet

S car watched as the two men fought amongst the flowers, the clang of their weapons rising as she took a seat and dangled her legs over the edge of the balcony. There were no railings to stop her fall, which made sense considering she was in a building designed for celestrials.

Three months she’d been in the city, and other than Aeron, these were the first celestrials she’d come across. Which had been both a blessing and a curse, considering she left her place of birth and travelled through the veil to a realm full of people different from her. She’d welcomed the diversity, which only highlighted the cruelty of the realm she no longer called home.

Aetherna definitely wasn’t the paradise she was brought up to believe. If you didn’t have wings, you were lower than dirt beneath their feet. Something she didn’t truly understand until she’d moved here, and realised her people suffered with an unfounded superiority complex.

It was why Fallen, celestrials who’d been stripped of their wings, usually crossed the veil and started new lives in a realm where it rained most of the time.

Not that she really knew whether it rained across the entire realm, which was apparently shaped like a large sphere over one-thousand times larger than Aetherna. She’d only explored London and the surrounding area, and so far the weather was less than to be desired.

Absently brushing her fingers along her thigh, she continued to watch the two men fight, each movement getting faster, and each strike harder. The one with darkened skin and deep red wings finally looked up, his lips set into a thin line at her sitting there, minding her own business.

She probably shouldn’t have sat so out in the open, but if she was going to be working with these men, she wanted to make an impression. She wasn’t some doormat for them to bully.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” a voice barked, another male coming to stand beside her. His wings were a dark brown with circles of orange, the colours complementing his sun-kissed skin.

“I have a meeting,” she said while returning her attention to the two that had stopped sparring to glare at her.

Well, the red winged man glared. His companion simply frowned.

“This area’s for officers only,” he called up before jumping, his powerful wings sweeping him up to the same ledge. His chest was bare, and shiny with sweat. It drew her attention to the small mark directly between his pecs. It was a triangle within a triangle, stylised, but still distinctly the alchemists symbol for transformation. Which made sense considering Archangel Cassiel was from the alchemist bloodline.

The other man followed, his sunshine yellow wings slightly smaller, but perfectly proportioned to his rock solid body. “Stop being an arsehole, Zaph. She’s not harming anyone.” His smile was teasing as his hand absently touched his own, identical brand. “Sorry babe, but this area’s closed off.”

Scar tightened her smile as she slowly climbed to her feet. Her height gave her little advantage, but it was better than having three men standing above her with their arms folded.

The deep red wings, Zaph, turned his attention to her backpack by her feet. “Nahal, is she one of yours?” he asked of brown wings.

The one with yellow wings grinned as he shoved at Nahal. “Tell me beautiful, how much is he paying you for the hour? Because trust me, you’re going to want to charge more.”

“Shut up, Kit,” Nahal growled, shaking his head as Kit laughed.

Scar ignored how her face flamed, her expression sharp enough that Kit’s smile quickly fell. “It’s Scarlet, and as I’ve already said, I have a meeting.”

Nahal sighed. “She’s not…”

Both Zaph and Kit straightened to attention, Nahal taking a second to recover before doing the same.

“Not what?” A deeper, almost amused voice asked.

Scarlet turned, immediately bowing at the waist.

Shit.

Archangel Cassiel stood behind her, his suit dark and perfectly tailored to his frame. She’d met many Archangels, but none with such an intense aura surrounding them. She’d have probably recoiled if she didn’t need his approval so much.

Behind him stood Aeron, the only celestrial she knew this side of the veil. “Your Archangel asked you a question,” he said, his tone frosted with ice, which went perfectly with his pale blue feathers and matching eyes.

Nahal clenched his jaw. “A sex worker, Sir.”

Cassiel pursed his lips, never removing his eyes from hers. “I don’t seem to remember approving the use of whores inside my home today.”

Scar straightened even as the burn in her cheeks deepened. She made sure her shoulders were rigid, and her wings perfectly poised. “I’m not a sex worker… Sir,” she added when the Archangel’s eyes narrowed.

“Sir, this is Scarlet,” Aeron said with about as much enthusiasm as a man about to get a vasectomy. “She’s the newest officer.”

There was a moment of silence, all the men reacting as if he’d said something crazy.

She’d been working and training alongside men who were less than impressed with her strength and stature for almost a year, so at this point nothing bothered her anymore.

“Officer?” Cassiel tilted his head, a frown marking his brow. “And the best you could do was this female?”

Scar bit her tongue, tasting blood.

“You approved her application,” Aeron added carefully. “She was the only eligible applicant.”

She likely wasn’t, but Aeron made sure hers was the only one that qualified. She wasn’t going to leave anything to chance, especially when the fact she was born with a uterus put her at a disadvantage. Cassiel was as old as a dinosaur, and notoriously like many of the older Archangels, believed that she wasn’t as capable as a man.

Which was bullshit.

Cassiel scoffed, his gaze uncomfortably direct. “Women don’t belong as warriors,” he said, his copper wings widening until his primary feathers brushed against hers. It was inappropriate, but no one commented. “Empathy’s a burden, and not a desirable trait.”

Scarlet kept her face empty, simply tightening her wings to her back. His gaze burned, brushing across her face to settle just above her shoulder where his wing continued to touch hers.

She tried not to wriggle beneath his scrutiny. She’d toiled with the idea of binding her breasts and pretending she could swing a dick between her legs, but thought better of it. Being caught in that lie would have been more difficult to explain rather than just proving her worth despite her lack of penis.

“No.” Cassiel shook his head, quickly losing interest. “Find a male who’s capable of an officer’s duties.”

A muscle ticked in Aeron’s jaw, and Scar tilted her chin to watch him carefully. The silent warning tense between them.

“Sir, she qualified top of her class at the academy and comes with high praise.”

Technically a lie considering she never graduated.

“There’s no one more capable,” he insisted, which was stretching the truth slightly. Not that she minded, his job was to secure her a place within the Archangel’s complex, specifically a role that worked directly with Cassiel himself, by any means necessary. “And since your last officer left with no warning, we’ve been under strain to cover your security.”

Pursing his lips, Cassiel turned to her once more. His scrutiny was uncomfortable, and after a minute or so he finally nodded. “Walk with me,” he demanded, turning away with an expectation she would follow without argument.

Scarlet blinked, risking a glance at Aeron, who looked both irritated and relieved. Hurrying after Cassiel’s longer strides, she moved into step beside him. He didn’t speak another word as they passed white walls that ached to be splashed with colour, the entire building seeming to be painted the same boring shade. He finally stopped when he hit the edge, peeking down to the grand foyer several floors below.

From what she gathered it was the only place where there were stairs, the rest of the building designed for beings with wings.

“Tell me about your heritage,” he asked. “I can already see from your feathers that you come from a higher rank.”

Her wings were pure white, except for a burst of pink hidden amongst the inner feathers closest to her spine.

“I can’t say much,” she said, twisting the truth. “They died when I was young.”

“Siblings?”

Scar ignored the pang of pain that shot through her chest. “No, it’s just me.”

“Hmm.” Ruffling the dirty blond of his hair, his copper eyes met hers once more. “What about a consort? You’re clearly of breeding age.”

“I’m not just an incubator.”

Cassiel’s expression tightened. “Careful how you speak to me.”

“I apologise, Sir.” Scar bowed her head, taking everything in her to unclench her teeth. “No, I have no consort.” And she had no desire for one.

A hand in her hair, brushing through the pale yellow strands. “Unusually petite for a celestrial, but you make up with your serene bone structure.”

Scarlet froze, not sure how she should react. Her first instinct was to kick out, but that wouldn’t leave a great impression considering she needed him to employ her.

“Straight nose, and sharp cheekbones make superior genetics. High ranked indeed. Maybe having someone with a face like yours would be an advantage,” he mused to himself. “Tell me, how much do you want to be an officer? Would you do anything?”

Scar swallowed, remaining perfectly still. “Anything,” she whispered, her stomach knotting with the possibilities of that answer.

How far would she go? To work so directly with an Archangel of his calibre was supposedly an honour, so why did the hair at her nape stand on edge when staring into his eyes?

“Many find the pressure of working beneath me too much to bear.” Cassiel’s hand slipped further down to cup her jaw, forcing her to look up. It was more of a control touch than sexual, and made her just as uncomfortable. “The turnover of staff here is incredibly high. I find it difficult to find the right fit, and a woman as delicate as you will only struggle.”

“I can handle it, Sir.” She didn’t have a choice. Everything she’d done for the past year had gotten her there, in his presence.

“Such confidence.”

The urge to shove his touch away stiffened her muscles even tighter. “Let me prove myself to you.”

Cassiel smirked, but there was no emotion in his gaze except for slight curiosity. As if she were an enigma he wanted to study. “Ah, I remember your application now,” he said, still touching her. “Aeron had been… insistent. I couldn’t really believe someone born of two scholars would just ignore their inherited knowledge and bloodline to come play as a soldier in another realm.”

“I wanted a new life. I don’t have anything left back home.”

Cassiel’s brow furrowed as he leaned forward. “Interesting. You definitely have the energy of a Sage. Subtle, but distinctive.”

“My bloodline isn’t old, and the inherited memories are common enough. I won’t be missed.”

“Hmm.” Without warning he released her. “I’m sure you’re aware that I’m a Councilman as well as an Archangel, and with that comes expectations. I have many obligations in which I take my closest officers. It’s out of necessity, rather than want. I’ve been this side of the veil for many years now, and you need to not only act like a Councilman, but look the part too.”

She nodded, subtly stepping back. “Of course.”

“Good. We’ll leave in ten.”

Scarlet swallowed a curse, dreading that she’d ruined her chance settling like a stone. “Leaving, Sir?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’m giving you the chance to prove your worth. That’s the reason you’re ignoring your heritage, isn’t it?”

“Sir –”

“You want to play soldier, and I feel like indulging you. You’ll be accompanying me, along with Aeron to a meeting. Ten minutes, Scarlet. Don’t be late.”