Dance of Wings (Curse of the Guardians #7)

36. Scarlet

Chapter 36

Scarlet

T he sheets were coarse against her front, bunched up and uncomfortable. Groaning, she pushed up, her wings pinned tight to her spine. On instinct she tried to extend them, but after an inch or so they… stopped.

Sitting up onto her knees she looked over her shoulder, only to find Kit standing on the other side of the room staring into three mirrors. They’d been placed together, replicating his image at three different angles. Scarlet immediately jumped from the bed, finding she’d been placed beside Aeron’s creature. His breathing was slow, his ribs visible along his side as he slept in the tight space.

“He was causing a scene, so had to be sedated.” Kit turned with a smirk, closing their distance. “Don’t feel guilty, he was the one that recruited knowing full well staff here disappeared under strange circumstances. But he didn’t give a fuck as long as we supplied him with brimstone.”

Scarlet straightened, her head a little woozy. She tried to steady herself with her wings, but found once again she was unable to extend them.

“They’ve been caged.” He flicked out his own, sunshine yellow wings.

Reaching for her left wing, she pulled. She expected pain, her muscles protesting, but there was nothing. It was as if they hit a barrier.

There wasn’t even any residual pain from where Cassiel had cut her. Only a slight twinge. “How long have I been out?” she asked, her voice a rough croak. Her body felt heavy, as if she’d slept for a long time.

Kit shrugged. “I don’t know, three days or so? Long enough for Father to fit one of his contraptions. He’s bonded the gold so you’re unable to extend your wings. Making them nothing but pretty ornaments.” His eyes danced with amusement. “If you manage to push past the frame, you’ll find the pain excruciating as you shred your wings entirely.”

Scarlet shook, extending her wings and pushing past the lock, only to experience exactly as he had said. Quickly closing them she reached back, her fingertips brushing over something rigid by her wing anchors.

“Here, let me show you.” Moving back to the mirrors he looked back, smile slipping at her hesitation. “I said, let me show you.” He waited, the animosity between them stretching until the air crackled.

Scarlet flicked her gaze over to the door, then quickly back before taking a deliberate step forward.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He yanked her over the last few inches.

Pulling the third mirror, Kit moved it so it was positioned behind, giving her the view of the thin golden rods barely visible between her inner blush feathers.

“Impossible to remove without damaging your wing structure. And then there’s the enchantment, stopping anyone from trying.” His touch was far gentler than expected, his fingertip brushing the skin of her spine. The metal heated, and Scar tried to jerk away. “See.”

The heat stopped once Kit removed his hand.

“What do you think, Silas? Isn’t it beautiful?” he continued, smirking over her shoulder at his own reflection.

Bang. Silas’s fist smashed against the glass so hard his knuckles split.

“Is he there now?” Kit asked, moving the mirror back to its first position. It gave her multiple angles of her brother, whose expression was black with rage.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Si, stop it!” She pressed her hand to the glass, trying to calm him down.

“Fucking hell, I can hear it.” Kit laughed, throwing his head back. “Describe him to me.”

“Si, please! You’re hurting yourself. It’s going to be okay.” But Silas was beyond hearing, each bang of his fist weaker than the last. It wouldn’t be long before he collapsed, and then reset to start the pain all over again.

A hand at the back of her neck, pushing forward until her cheek pressed against the mirror. “I said describe him to me. Every fucking bruise, and cut. I need to know how fucked up he looks.”

Scarlet sneered, unable to move against his strength. Elbowing back, she aimed for his wound. Kit let out a strangled sound, his grip tightening before he shoved her against the mirror until it toppled, the momentum taking her with it.

The glass shattered, slicing into her palms when she landed on the sharp shards.

“I see you’re as pathetic as your brother,” he wheezed, lifting his top to show the stitches along his stomach had come loose. For once she was so fucking thankful celestrial healing was slow. “He tried to fight back too.”

Scarlet shook, her shoulders hunched as she stared at Silas in a hundred different fractured images. Ignoring the pain in her palm she curled her fingers around a large chunk of glass. Kit continued to stand behind her, his eyes flickering between the two remaining mirrors.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure not to touch your hands. I’m gonna need you to heal me after. Now, this is going to fucking hurt.” His hand fisted, muscles bunching in his arm. But before he could reach her she twisted, striking the shard in the centre of his chest with all her strength.

Kit screamed, startled as the swell of red spread across his shirt. She’d purposely missed his heart, not wanting to kill him straight away.

With him staggering back, Scar calmly climbed to her feet.

Blood pumped violently, making the floor slippery as Kit fell, catching himself against the side of the creature’s cage.

“Heal me!” he screeched, his hand pressed to the wound as he sank to the floor, but even with his pressure around the protruding glass, blood continued to leak from between his fingers.

Scarlet reached for one of the mirrors, heart breaking at Silas on his knees. He didn’t even see her, his eyes trained on the man that had beaten him to death.

The wheels of the mirror squealed, adding to the symphony of Kit’s crying.

“Heal me you bitch!” he screamed, the colour beginning to drain from his face.

Scarlet wanted to take her time, for fear to build, but she knew she had to be quick. Three days she’d been out cold, her thoughts immediately going to Lucifer.

No. She dragged herself back to the moment, not wanting to think about him until Silas got his revenge. Taking another piece of broken glass she dragged it along Kit’s jaw. He tried to roll away, but the blood loss was weakening him.

“You broke his jaw,” she whispered, her rage a quiet drum inside her skull. The shard dug in, but wasn’t quite sharp enough to really cut. She didn’t care, enjoying him flinch as she dragged it up until it pressed into his cheek just below his eye. “You fractured his socket.”

“It was an accident! I didn’t mean to kill him!”

Scarlet touched the edge of the glass to his eyeball, adding a little pressure, only to pull back at the last second. His entire body sagged with relief when she dragged it along his arm instead.

“You broke his arm, and his leg.” She pressed harder, the shard cutting a little deeper along his thigh. “But do you know what actually killed him?”

He was panting, every breath a struggle as air bubbled from the wound.

“You hit him so hard his ribs pierced his heart.” Before Kit could escape into unconsciousness, she stabbed down to the right of the other shard, and this time she didn’t miss.

Kit jerked, his death almost immediate. It was too quick. Too easy, and in another lifetime she would’ve made him suffer just as her brother had suffered. She’d have taken her time, replicating every single fracture, cut and bruise until she was satisfied that he suffered more than her brother did.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Breathing heavily she looked up, finding Silas had drawn a heart with his own blood.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

‘I love you.’

“I’m sorry I couldn’t…” Her voice cracked, interrupted by more tapping.

‘Go.’

Blood dripped hot down her arm, leaving little droplets as she slowly stood on shaky legs. She only now saw the rows of bodies hanging up on hooks, winged men in various states of deterioration. There had to be at least ten different men, all previous officers who’d simply gone missing. Specifically chosen because they were alone in a realm without support.

Ignoring the nausea, she waved to her brother before opening the door. Everything was so quiet, panic fluttering her stomach. There should be shouts, or curses or even Lucifer’s teasing remarks. Except she was greeted with nothing but frigid air.

The scent of copper hit her before she saw him. Lucifer was so still on the table, spread out like a sacrifice. He’d been stripped naked, some of his skin missing with tubes stuck beneath his ribs. Reaching over she pulled them out, her fingers quick to force him to clot. Cassiel had sliced down the centre of his chest, the wound open and oozing.

Heartbeat in her throat she worked fast, conscious that Cassiel could turn up at any moment. Quickly unlocking the cuffs she pulled out the blades impaling him one by one.

He still hadn’t moved, his chest barely pumping.

“Come on,” she whispered, placing her palm on the centre of his chest. She could feel his heart beating, but it was sluggish. “You’ve got to leave.”

She was on the last knife, her fingers wrapped around the blade as she forced it free.

“Please,” she begged. “Wake up.”

Lucifer jerked, sitting up with a snarl. His red eyes snapped open, glowing like flames. But they were unfocused, drowsy.

“Lucifer?” she whispered, the word barely out before his hand snapped out to wrap around her throat. She still gripped the last knife, fingers clamped around the handle. Lucifer sneered, his canines on show before he tugged her roughly against him, and drifted.