eight
My eyes snap to the source of the voice, my gun following.
Stormy ocean eyes glare down at me. They are a mix of light and dark blues, like where the sky meets the sea. What stands out the most are the silver specks that lace the irises, as if someone has woven stars into the night sky. His gaze is cold and distant and it screams at me to drop to my knees and beg him to let me live.
His hair is swept back in short, dark waves, but a single strand falls just above his brows, which are raised. His jaw is as sharp as the dangerous look in his eyes, but his lips curve to the left ever so slightly.
My gaze trails down his body in a calculating assessment. Unlike his smaller counterpart’s, the armour he wears shines a deep gold. A chest plate sculpts around each muscle perfectly. A large gold cloth drapes from one shoulder down his back and in between his wings. There’s not a doubt in my mind that this is no ordinary angel. Every inch of him is built for battle. It’s likely he could crush me without lifting a finger.
Though ironically, the most hauntingly beautiful part of him is the wings that tower behind him. They’re larger than Red’s, with great white feathers that are dusted with a sparkling silver to match his eyes. A small gasp escapes me as a single word flutters through my mind.
Magnificent.
I feel a strange desire to reach out and touch his wings, but I refrain. He emanates power. He induces fear.
Just like Red, he is undeniably beautiful, but even more terrifying.
My gun holds firm towards him, even though it may as well be nothing more than a child’s toy at this point. The angel’s eyes trail over my face and down my body. He looks me over with careful consideration, assessing every inch of me. Then, as if he deems me not a threat, something shifts in his eyes and they soften a little. Despite my weapon pointed at his face, he shrugs me off like a human would a speck of dust.
Fear shakes my bones and my stomach churns. I wish I stayed home. I should have listened to Xavier. I should have waited till morning. I’m never going to find Jeremy if this beast rips off my head. Now I’ve given us both a death sentence.
I fight the fear that tells me to cower, shoving it down inside of me so deep that I almost convince myself it’s no longer there. Then I lift my chin, raising my eyes to meet his.
His eyes widen with surprise before narrowing on my gun. “Now, what are you doing down here, little insect? The sun went down hours ago.”
The words little insect spread anger through my veins like nothing I’ve felt before. A condescending, egotistical thing to say.
I take a breath and try to mask the anger in my tone. “I don’t believe that’s any of your business, bird boy.”
The angel’s lips curve into a cynical smile of amusement. “Ouch.”
He looks down at the shotgun in my hand and clearly almost laughs. “You can put your gun down. It won’t help you.”
Though I know he’s right, I don’t obey. Something about the weapon gives me a false sense of security that I don’t want to let go of. “I think I’d rather keep it pointed at your head. Thanks for the offer, though.”
The angel tilts his head to the side and studies me, taking a step closer. I automatically step backward to keep the distance between us.
As he takes another step, I stay still, my legs firmly planted in place. He looks into my eyes, but it feels as if he’s staring into my soul. A feeling of warmth overtakes me, and a sliver of pain shoots through my head like a migraine.
The more I stare into his eyes, the more I see his beauty. Angels truly are creatures crafted by the gods. He might be the most beautiful man – worlds, he might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I find myself feeling at ease, safe, even, as if there’s this bond between us that assures me he’s not going to hurt me. That I can trust him.
I slowly take my finger off the trigger and lower my gun, never breaking eye contact as I strap it back over my shoulder.
I’m safe. He’s an angel, a guardian, the protector of man. He won’t harm me.
I really look at him now and appreciate his beauty, his strength, his power. I envy him —
Wait, what? What am I thinking? This isn’t right.
The image of Xavier’s mother’s throat being torn out flashes through my mind.
The false sense of safety that coursed through my veins slips away, and as my mind clears, the shooting pain dissipates.
My brows knit together and I spot the small smirk on the angel’s face. My anger returns and I shake my head as if to shake away his presence within it. “Get out of my mind!”
Before better judgement can stop me, I pull my blade from my belt and plunge it deep into his abdomen.
The angel looks at me with a mixture of confusion and pain as I rip the blade free. I don’t give him even a second to react. Moving around him, I run quickly up the stairs and disappear into the shadows of the abandoned street.