Dance of Wings (Curse of the Guardians #7)

15. Scarlet

Chapter 15

Scarlet

W armth enveloped her, water sinking into the fabric and pasting it tighter to her skin. Letting out a stunned gasp, she jerked away from Lucifer.

He’d pulled her into the pool, fully dressed weapons and all.

Bastard.

“If you put your clothes over on that rock, they’ll be dry by the time we’re finished,” he said, pointing behind her.

She wanted to stab him for daring to drag her into the water, but it was warm. Her wing immediately felt relieved, and only then did she really pay attention to the strange iridescent sheen. He’d added an oil, lavender, the most obvious herb from the scent, but others that were definitely used for their relaxation, and maybe even healing properties. Cupping some of the water, she brought it to her nose.

“What was in the oil?” she asked. The ache had disappeared, and already the tightness beneath her axillary feathers had eased. It’s worked faster than any salve she’d have been able to make.

Lucifer cocked his head, watching her. It was almost impossible to ignore his almost suffocating intensity. He watched her as if she was captivating, his eyes so expressive, sparkling and yet guarded at the same time. She could easily become lost in them, the red so bright it reminded her of embers, beautiful in their dormant violence.

The sound of a critter lurking in the wood broke through her chaotic thoughts, bringing her back into the moment. Lucifer simply sat, smug.

Peeling the leggings off, she threw them over the rock he’d mentioned earlier. There was no way she was willing to remove the tunic, even if the fabric was uncomfortable.

Removing her knife too, she placed it on the side within reach, the other lost. Her bow was next, and after checking it wasn’t damaged she placed it carefully beside the other weapon.

“Stop staring,” she said when she turned back to face him.

Lucifer blinked, and those embers darkened slightly. “I thought celestrials may be sequential hermaphrodites. I’m glad to see I was wrong.”

Beneath Lucifer’s teasing there was a sharp intelligence that made her hesitate. She was only there because she’d been told, and Lucifer was already aware of that fact.

Pulling the band from her hair, she let the strands sink into the water. “All celestrials are heavily discouraged to leave Aetherna, females even more so.” Why leave somewhere that was supposed to be a paradise?

“Yet you did.” His entire body sunk below the surface, leaving only his head and the tips of his shoulders visible.

“Obviously.” She’d heard of a few females choosing to leave, and being shunned for the decision. They may not technically be Fallen because they left with their wings intact, but socially they were treated as such.

“And all to work for that prick,” he said with a shrug. It drew her attention to his shoulders, fascinated by the idea that he could call and redact his wings at will. Her own wings were heavy on her back, the feathers designed to resist water to an extent. But when submerged for long enough they become waterlogged. Heavier, but not entirely uncomfortable.

“He pays good money,” she said, her response apathetic even to her own ears. So she quickly added, “not many people want to hire a female celestrial.”

Lucifer’s smile was slow, his amusement clear. The water moved as he closed their distance, creating little ripples in the pristine surface.

“What are you doing?” she asked, flinching when he went to touch her wing.

“You can’t be seen as weak with men like that, they’ll take advantage.” At her hesitation he held out his hands, as if showing her he wasn’t a threat. “You’re marked, which makes you mine, and I take care of what’s mine.”

He wasn’t being suggestive, literally stating a fact, and yet heat curled through her stomach at his words, her skin suddenly too tight across her bones.

It’s just the mark, she thought, wanting to ignore the tension that wrapped around her throat like a noose. There was no other explanation in why she found herself reacting to him.

“I won’t harm you,” he added, expression uncharacteristically serious. “You have my word.”

Not trusting her own response, she simply opened her sore wing a little more. Lucifer didn’t wait, his fingertips gentle as they brushed across her feathers in a way that was far too intimate. In any other situation she’d have reached for a blade, but the pressure felt good, and once he started to massage the muscles she barely suppressed a moan.

“Turn around,” he said, rich voice deepening. “It would be easier if I could undo your clothes.”

Scarlet stiffened.

“I promise it’s only to stretch your wing, and nothing nefarious,” he said with a slight chuckle. “Scouts honour.”

Scarlet frowned. “What’s a scout?”

Lucifer’s chest expanded with a silent laugh. “Honestly? I have no idea. I heard it once on TV, and now say it just to piss my brothers off. It essentially means you can trust me.”

Scarlet wrinkled her nose, and Lucifer didn’t make any move to touch her again.

“If I was going to harm you, I wouldn’t have gone to the effort of making a healing bath.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” She reached behind her towards the rocks, the position putting her closer to her blade. “You’re not supposed to be able to harm me.”

“Actually, the agreement wasn’t to kill you. Trust me, harming is entirely different.” Lucifer sunk back lower in the water, tipping his head back to soak his hair and exposing his throat. He had tattoos there too, the curves circling his throat.

She’d made sure to keep her eyes on his face when he began to undress, but not before she noticed the black lines decorated almost the entirety of his body. Not to mention the metal balls he had on his nipples, and the bar through the end of his…

“You’ve gone red,” Lucy commented with a frown, the water sloshing as he straightened. “Are you feeling well?”

“Fine,” she muttered, wanting to turn away, but at the same time wanting to keep him in her line of sight.

His frown deepened for a second before his eyes widened, followed by a playful smirk. “What were you thinking about?”

Scarlet’s face burned hotter. “If you can harm me, why haven’t you?”

Cocking his head, he observed her for a moment. The wind whistled through the leaves, and freezing the water on her skin. It was true, she didn’t feel the cold, but that didn’t make it pleasant.

“It’s been close to three years since I’ve last marked a soul,” he said quietly, his eyes so direct she couldn’t look away.

“Why?”

“Because it takes me closer to someone I no longer want to be.”

His answer took her by surprise.

“Does it give you power over me?”

A single, shallow nod. “To an extent,” he replied, and as if she’d drank some tea, warmth spread behind her breast. But as quickly as the sensation came, it disappeared leaving tingling in its wake. “Right now I own your soul, which means if you die, your soul will become mine, and not pass on to whatever afterlife you believe exists.”

“And then what?” When he raised a brow in question, she continued. “What happens to my soul after you absorb it?”

He shrugged. “I can do whatever I want. Put you in a bottle for my entertainment, or I’ll simply end your existence and you’ll become nothing but a memory.”

“You say that so coldly.”

“I am what I am, love. This place would be far too boring if everyone’s morals were the same. But don’t worry, if we take down Gideon, then the bargain is fulfilled then the mark will fade. You’ll keep your pretty little soul, and carry on with your boring reality as if I didn’t exist.”

“So you can’t manipulate me through the mark?”

“As in make you my puppet?” His smirk darkened, and her hand slowly crept closer towards where she’d left her knife. “Don’t look so worried. The mark is nothing but an awareness of your heartbeat. It’s so I can be there to reclaim the owned soul if you happen to come to an unfortunate end before the bargain can be fulfilled.”

Scarlet bit her lip, watching how Lucifer’s eyes were drawn to the movement. “Can you release me at any time? Or move it to someone else?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘P.’ “Looks like you’re stuck to me thanks to your Archangel. Good thing I’m amazing company.”

Heat spread behind her breast once more, growing the longer she was in Lucifer’s presence. “Am I supposed to be able to feel you?” she asked, concentrating on the sensation. It was like a wash of calm, quieting the noise in her head. “You’re like this muted warmth beneath my ribs.”

His eyes met hers once more. “Ah, so you admit you think about me.”

Scarlet splashed him, his laughter bouncing around them with an almost feral delight.

“If it makes you feel better, I’ve never held such a strong soul before. The ones I’ve taken were already weak from corruption, tarnished by their decisions, whether from greed or power.”

“You say the nicest things,” she said dryly.

A wink, the water dripping down the hard planes of his chest as he stood. “Only for you, now, turn around before we have to go back.”

Scarlet debated whether to comply or not, and then decided she didn’t really have much of a choice. She could probably make it back to the city, but not without damaging her wing further. She needed Lucifer to jump them, and so far he’d kept to his word.

“Only if you tell me about yourself. That was the agreement, wasn’t it?”

“So you can go back and tell your Archangel everything you’ve learnt about the big, bad Daemon?” Something flashed behind his eyes, an emotion she couldn’t quite catch. “Turn around, Scarlet.”

The air crackled between them, and Lucifer’s eyes darkened until the pupils nearly obscured the molten red of his irises. It was a dare and a warning all wrapped up in one.

Keeping him in her sight for as long as she could she turned, purposely putting herself in a dangerous position. She’d never felt like the prey as much as she did just then. Placing her hands on the rocks, she waited.

There was a beat when nothing happened, the water still before she felt him move closer. Fingers gently tugged at the tie beneath her wing anchors, releasing the fabric. She let it sag, even allowing him to gently pull it away from her body to leave her naked.

She’d never let anyone near her back. It was one of the most vulnerable places on a celestrial, and yet there she was, allowing him.

Her hands tightened on the rock, sharp enough it cut into her palms.

“Relax,” he muttered, his finger brushing down her spine between her wings. “Scouts honour, remember?”

Forcing herself to relax, she leaned over onto the rocks and extended her wings. His hands never left her skin before he began to massage gently. The muscle and tendons were sore, making her groan as he worked out the tight knots.

“How many brothers do you have?” she asked after a while. He’d already moved further up her wing, closer to her shoulder. She was hyperaware of his presence, feeling every brush of his fingertips, and press of his palm.

A pause, his fingers disappearing for a moment. “It’s complicated.”

Scarlet turned to lay her head on her crossed arms, able to watch him in her peripheral.

“Seven,” he said after a moment. “Eight if you include Axel’s mate, Sam. Fun fact, they all tried to kill me at first.”

Scarlet thought he was joking. “Seriously? Why?”

“Because of what I am.” He chuckled, vibrating the water between them. “Guess I won them over with my winning personality.”

“Why do they care about what you are?”

“The same reason I expect Cassiel believes me to be a monster. Prejudice. They were taught that everyone like me was malignant, and was to be destroyed. It took them a while to understand that just because I ascended to a Daemon, that it doesn’t make me evil. But don’t let my attractive looks fool you, I am a monster. I’ve done things that’s tarnished my soul beyond redemption.”

Scarlet heard the slight threat, even if he delivered it so nonchalantly. “I hadn’t heard of a Daemon until I came here.”

“Not a surprise considering we’re like the realm’s dirty little secret. Very few druids survive the transition, and those that do risk losing their minds over time.”

“Because of the black magic?” she whispered, remembering Cassiel’s conversation regarding Daemons.

“You could say that,” he muttered, his hip touching her side as he stretched out her wing. “My wings used to have feathers.”

Scarlet sat up, turning so she could see him more. “Really?”

He nodded, eyes hooded. “Practicing black magic requires a cost, or even sacrifice. It’s part of the magic of balance. Witches can suffer both physically and mentally if they’re not strong enough to deal with the effluence. They’d lose eyesight, limbs and sometimes their lives all in payment for power.”

“What’s your cost?” she asked, curious.

“Similar to witches, although Daemons have adapted over time to deal with the effluence better. Our bodies don’t usually break down, but I’ve known a Daemon or two to lose their minds. All those that practice black magic can’t bear children, but I suppose our main cost would be to be bound to our summoning name.”

“Were you born with wings? Or were those a cost?”

“I would say they were a bonus, rather than a cost.” Lucifer smirked. “Guess you could say they were a side-effect, but they become tainted after years of black magic abuse. If I was to damage my wing beyond healing, I can cut it off and it’ll grow back covered in feathers. But they won’t last, simply falling out within a few days.”

Frowning, she turned fully, only to find him looking down at her with his lips parted. She could feel his breath across her face, almost as chaotic as her own.

“Mine wouldn’t grow back,” she admitted, feeling the need to share some more. “If I was to lose my wings, I’d become a Fallen.”

The wind swirled, picking up some fallen leaves to dance. They eventually fell into the water, but neither of them looked away from one another.

“What’s so bad about being a Fallen?”

“Apart from not being able to fly? It’s classed as a degradation. You’re seen as less then because you lose your longevity, and healing ability.” Not that celestrial healing abilities were anything compared to other Breeds. “Many lose their inherited memories, too.”

His brows drew together, and before he could ask she continued.

“Celestrials inherit certain knowledge and abilities. Things only the same family lines or ranks can hold, such as reading and writing certain scripts. Medical knowledge, and even parts of our history. Scholars are revered in Aetherna, much more than warriors.”

“Yet you’re a warrior.”

Scarlet exhaled a laugh void of humour. “I was never one to follow the rules, much to everyone’s disappointment. But to become a Fallen is seen as the worst punishment imaginable. You’re supposed to lose your connection to your ancestors. It’s hard to explain, but it’s a sense of belonging, and those memories that connect you to your heritage just disappear.”

She went quiet for a moment, lost in her own thoughts.

“My brother was to be a Fallen,” she whispered, finding it was the first time she’d ever admitted that out loud.

A hand brushed her collarbone, but rather than push him away she used it to fight against the memory of finding Silas broken, and cast away like he was nothing.

“What did he do?”

“Nothing.” Scarlet wet her bottom lip, trying to swallow past the raging emotions. “He defended me against an Archangel when I said no, and they said it was an insult to decline such an invitation.”

She’d been propositioned into a mating she had no interest in, by a man who saw her as nothing but an incubator for his future children.

It was nothing but an excuse, using Silas’s aggression in defending her as a reason to strip him of his wings, essentially removing his status. But she knew there was more to it. Despite sharing the same medical knowledge, he’d become a private investigator, usually hired to hunt down cheating spouses, or long lost siblings. But sometimes he got high profile jobs, ones that exposed Archangels and those that held powerful positions within society.

He was a risk to those that held secrets, but not as much if he held no influence amongst celestrials. No one would have taken a Fallen seriously.

“He was dead before both his wings could be removed.” She hadn’t realised she was crying until Lucifer brushed away a tear.

“I’m sorry, angel.”

“Why? You didn’t kill him.” Bringing up her hands, she went to push him away, but instead he gripped her wrists and held her palms to his chest. His heart beat violently beneath her touch, emphasising his life and for some reason, that brought her comfort. “The funniest thing was he was excited to become Fallen. He could become whomever he wanted without expectation. True freedom.”

“Is that why you left Aetherna?”

Tipping her head back, she blinked up at him. “There’s nothing left for me there.”

“And there’s something here?”

It took her a moment to answer, and when she did her voice was barely above the whistle of the wind. “Everything’s here.”