Dance of Wings (Curse of the Guardians #7)

8. Scarlet

Chapter 8

Scarlet

T his wasn’t what she’d agreed to.

Kit clamped his fingers on her shoulder, as if sensing she was ready to bolt. Cheers and curses erupted around them as one of the men within the cage crashed to the ground. He was lifeless, the other fighter unconcerned as he turned to the crowd with a bloody grin.

“Welcome to the Vault,” Kit said, body vibrating like a puppy. “The best underground fighting scene in London.”

Aeron sneered, watching her from the corner of his eye. He didn’t seem impressed with her being there.

Yeah, the feeling’s mutual, arsehole.

“So, this is what you do on your day off,” she said, having to duck as a glass bottle was thrown. It smashed against the wall behind her, and the person who threw it was quickly escorted out.

“It’s relaxing.”

More glasses smashed, followed by screams and shouts in a cacophony of destructive noise.

Yes, very relaxing.

“Come on.” Kit guided them to a spare bench, the space barely wide enough to fit their wings. Fingers brushed her primaries, and turning she glared at the man until he snapped his hand back. She usually didn’t have many issues with people touching, but clearly the guy wasn’t intelligent enough to understand personal space.

“You’re so pretty,” he slurred, his fingers wandering across her feathers again.

Scarlet smiled, and the man thought that was permission to step closer… until she bent his hand back to the point of breaking. He squealed, the sound so high-pitched it distracted the new fighters within the cage. Cradling his not-broken hand to his chest – he was so dramatic – Scar dropped her voice.

“Am I still pretty?” she purred, enjoying the colour drain from his face.

“Fucking bitch!” he seethed, almost falling as he staggered back. “I bet your pussy’s as dry as the desert.”

Kit threw his head back, his laugh a deep cackle. “I’m sure it is, babe.”

Unable to take her eyes off the man until he had disappeared within the crowd, she finally turned back to Kit, who was grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t.”

“What?” His eyes rounded, acting all innocent. “If you and your sandy lady parts need some alone time with the local drunks, who am I to stop you?”

Scarlet fought the smile that tugged at the corners, pretending to concentrate on the new fighter that had stepped into the ring, or cage, or whatever. He was fit, chest rippling with muscles that looked more for show than for strength. She doubted he’d even be able to cross his arms, and that was the thought that had her smirking.

“Oh shit, she does smile.” Kit nudged her shoulder, careful that his feathers didn’t accidentally brush hers. “All it took was a little blood and half naked men. Noted.”

Scarlet shook her head, watching the two men in the cage circle each other like wild animals. It had been a week since the summoning. A week of mundane tasks that always ended with the same question. ‘Have you intercepted Lucifer yet?’

Which was obviously a no.

It wasn’t like she knew where he was, and other than summoning him again – which went horrendously the first time – she had no idea how to find him. Her plan was to remain close to Cassiel, not run around a foreign city after a man who’d been forced against his will into a bargain. But it wasn’t like she had much choice, either. She was there to gain the Archangel’s trust, which meant she needed to do whatever he wanted.

She just had to somehow track Lucifer down before Cassiel grew even more impatient, and at the same time continue to get closer to the Archangel.

As soon as she got the information she needed, she was gone.

“Fuck, you see that hit? Amateur,” Kit muttered, engrossed in the scene. He rolled his small metal ball between his fingers, the copper sphere showing signs of oxygenation.

Out of all the officers, Kit was definitely the friendliest. He was open when she’d asked him questions, almost enthusiastic while the others weren’t as much. Nahal was professional, but kept to himself most of the time, and Zaph acted like he didn’t want to be there, but stayed because he had no other options. She figured out pretty quickly no one really communicated with Cassiel directly other than Aeron, who had been avoiding her as much as possible.

He wasn’t impressed when he’d gotten ready on his night off to find Kit had invited her along.

Which was perfect, because it meant she’d finally be able to get him alone.

Realising that Aeron hadn’t followed them to their seats, she turned to find him standing by the wall looking uncomfortably stiff.

Kit groaned, wincing as he watched the fighters attack one another as if it was to the death. Blood scented the air, which made the crowd even more frenzied. “This isn’t even the main event,” Kit said when he realised she wasn’t paying attention. “We’re all hoping Red makes an appearance. The guy’s a fucking psycho. I’ve never seen him lose.”

Scar nodded as if she was interested, looking back over to find Aeron had disappeared. Shit.

“Save my seat,” she said, moving towards where Aeron had once stood. Scanning the crowd she couldn’t see any other wings, which meant he must have disappeared down the corridor. Considering the place literally housed illegal hand-to-hand fights, the place was clean. The walls were concrete, but with stylised graffiti from someone that actually had talent. There were bins, which meant the floor was clear of any rubbish and a few young boys were hanging around ready to pick up anything that was discarded. The corridor was well-lit, and not as seedy as she’d expected.

At the end were the bathrooms, and without knocking she kicked it open. Aeron spun around, pale powder shimmering beneath his nose. His face glowed, red rushing to his cheeks with rage as she stepped in, and then closed the door behind her.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he seethed, his pupils already expanding.

“Thought this would be a good time to talk.” She’d broken the deadbolt, so pressed her weight back against the door. “You know, since you’ve been avoiding me.”

“What more could you want? I already got you the fucking job.” His head rolled back, muscles immediately relaxing.

“Why are you the only one who’s allowed to speak to Cassiel directly?” Scar was grateful that the Vault had large singular bathrooms, because she had no idea how they’d both fit with their wings inside a normal cubicle. Even now she had to tense her muscles to keep her feathers from touching the tiles.

“Because he’s an Archangel, and you’re all beneath him.”

“And you aren’t?” She barely stopped herself from eyeing the drugs that he’d placed unceremoniously onto the toilet basin. He hadn’t even used tissue, just placed the powder straight onto the porcelain. Classy.

Aeron bared his teeth. “You really should run while you still can.”

Yeah, even if she hadn’t been marked by a Daemon, she wouldn’t run. Not until she had answers.

“Did you work for him back in Aetherna?” she asked, hoping the drugs made him more agreeable. She wasn’t familiar with the substance, the stench acidic.

Aeron bent down, and another line of powder disappeared up his nostril. It wasn’t until he’d straightened, and rubbed at his nose did he answer. “What? No.”

“Then how long have you been working for him?”

Aeron let out a sound of impatience. “I don’t know, like eight months?”

Scarlet frowned, deciding whether he was lying or not. Silas had been murdered over a year ago, and if Aeron was telling the truth then he wouldn’t have met Cassiel then. “What about Cassiel’s appointments?” she asked. “Do you handle them?”

Using up the last of the powder, Aeron shook his head. “Get out my fucking way, Scarlet.”

Scar braced herself. “Answer the question.”

“Only his security. Everything else he does himself like the big fucking boy he is. Now step aside, or Cassiel will be looking for a new officer sooner than he thinks.”

His irises glowed, pupils dilated as he rubbed beneath his nose.

“You have no idea what I had to do to get you the job you blackmailed me to get you. I don’t care why you’re here, or what you want. So keep your fucking head down, and do what you’re told before you’re replaced just like everyone else when Cassiel gets bored.” His voice dropped to a sinister whisper. “And trust me, you don’t want to be replaced.”

Scarlet didn’t stop him when he reached for the door, stepping aside just enough that he could pull it open.

“I can help you detox, you know,” she said as he passed. “Just say the word, and I’ll help with the withdrawals.”

Aeron paused, back stiffening for a second. “Who said I wanted help?” Forcing the door open wider, he stomped out. Scarlet waited a few seconds, a strange pressure beneath her ribs that was swelling with warmth.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Gaze jerking up, she noticed Silas standing in the cracked mirror above the sink. It made him look shattered, each shard exaggerating his injuries to the point it was even more grotesque.

Shit. She’d been too distracted with Aeron to notice the mirror.

“I’m fine,” she said, realising she was rubbing the heel of her palm against her chest.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Seriously, I’m fine.” She hoped her smile was more believable than it felt. “I promise we’ll talk later.” Needing to breathe, she left the bathroom and made her way back into the corridor, hearing the crowd’s roar echo with excitement.

‘Keep your fucking head down, and do what you’re told.’

If only it was that easy.

Silas had been murdered over a year ago, and still she was no closer to finding the truth. Cassiel was notoriously narcissistic and private, only trading information if he gained something in return. She’d tried to gain an audience with him right at the beginning, but found it almost impossible.

Becoming part of his staff had been the only option. She was desperate to just ask him outright, but if he decided to dismiss her, that was it. He was her only lead, so she had to be patient. Because Aeron was right, she was replaceable, which meant she needed leverage.

She’d blackmailed Aeron successfully, surely finding something on Cassiel couldn’t be that hard?

Scarlet spotted Kit’s yellow wings across the room, Aeron already sitting beside him with an energy he lacked earlier. They were both watching the cage, fists clenched and raised to the sky with an enthusiasm that matched the room. It was only when Scarlet returned to her seat that she turned to the fight.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered.

She didn’t believe in fate, or any higher beings who pulled the strings. But there, with his dark hair tied away from his face and wearing a feral smirk, was the man she was looking for.

The same man who’d murdered five people in the span of thirty seconds.

And then shoved his tongue down her throat.