Chapter 8
Istep into the spacious elevator with Shaw as he escorts me to the evaluations that start in exactly twenty minutes.
My day began with a loud knock at the door after I had slept for nearly half the day.
With the curtains drawn tightly, I had no idea what time it was when Shaw demanded I let him into my room. We began our preparations immediately.
For any angel who has been out of duty for an extended period or is being initiated into the Order, they must undergo a series of assessments to test their strength, speed, and mental stability for potential assignments.
This allows Lowell to judge your strengths and weaknesses, ensuring you are given jobs you can handle.
There is zero room for error in our line of work.
When I first joined the Order, these evaluations were conducted privately between the Elder and a few of his closest assassins. However, they are now presented to the entire Order, introducing a new level of pressure in each situation.
With each elevator beep, the floors pass by, and my system starts to buzz with anticipation and nerves. I passed the first time easily. However, I’m not so sure this time will be as simple as it was back then. The angels are deadlier now—more ruthless—and so are the assessments.
Shaw cuts his eyes to me, but I continue to face forward, watching the numbers grow as we get closer to the top floor of the building.
“You look the part, at least,” Shaw says.
I look down at myself, feeling both comfortable and awkward in clothes that were once like a second skin. Heavy boots, black pants, and a spandex long-sleeved shirt cling to my body. A small gun rests securely at the top of my thigh, and my belt is fitted with various weapons and clips.
“That may be the only thing I have going for me,” I respond.
He chuckles. “Don’t doubt yourself now.”
I look at him, and his face is soft, yet a streak of worry flashes across his brow. He doubts me, and that only fuels me more.
“This all seems like a lot of trouble to go through to make sure I can still kick everyone’s ass, don’t you think?” I snark.
Shaw doesn’t laugh. “Mara, Lowell hasn’t told you everything yet, but it’s bad, and you need to get serious about this.”
“If my actions haven’t proven I’m serious since I’ve been back, I’m not sure how I’ve misled you, Shaw.” I bite back.
His gaze narrows. “Serious enough to kill the Grim Reaper?”
I don’t let his words startle me. That’s exactly what I assumed, and it seems that since returning, everything I’ve suspected has turned out to be true. They aren’t hiding things as well as they think, but for the life of me, I can’t imagine why he would disclose that minutes before my assessment.
“I’ll add him to my rapidly growing list.”
His deep voice interrupts my thoughts. “We’re here.”
The elevator comes to a stop, and even the doors seem hesitant to open. The hallway before us is silent, and the glass windows allow bright sunlight to bleed into the building. Shaw places a hand on the small of my back, moving me forward, and my heart flutters like rapidly beating wings.
The thirtieth floor has two doors: one leading to the large roof where the strength and speed tests will take place, and another that opens into a small glass room with two-way mirrors all around—used for the first phase of the mental evaluations.
The Order must remain completely silent during the assessment, and at times, the silence will be all-consuming.
Shaw opens the door, and the rooftop of the Lyre Order becomes visible through the bright glow of the late afternoon sunlight.
The crowd is overwhelming, with angels both in their true forms and in disguise filling the towering bleachers, ready to watch me perform or fail.
A year ago, I would have been excited to show off my skills and make others envy me, but things have changed.
I’ve changed.
Shaw continues to lead me forward, and every so often, he pats my back, reassuring me he’s here.
I don’t allow my body to tremble or my eyes to reflect an ounce of fear.
I force myself to delve into the depths of my mind—the place I go when I have a task at hand.
I have a job to do, and I’m here to prove myself all over again.
Lowell Lyre sits in a spacious area designated for tactical training.
A few others are seated around him, and a seat sits empty directly beside him, but my eyes slowly drift to Talon.
He is on the far right of Lowell, and my breath hitches.
Next to him is someone I haven't seen since returning.
Her fiery red hair shines in the sun like blazing flames, and I swallow hard.
Bronwyn Vale—Talon’s fraternal twin, my ex-best friend, and deadly assassin—sits next to her brother for my assessment. She doesn’t smile, and her dark eyes burn into the soul I often question if I possess.
For the first time, I’m fucking nervous.
The arena features sections tailored to specific training needs, including varied terrain to support success. In the far corner is an area for gun training, while the middle is set up for hand-to-hand combat and various obstacle courses.
I stop in the middle of the arena while Shaw continues forward, taking the seat directly next to Lowell.
The crowd’s whispers quiet down when the Elder raises his hand.
He stands, spreading his enormous wings over the others sitting beside him.
He always has a way of making those closest still feel less.
“Mara Castten.” He claps his hands together, but he speaks only to me. “What a special day it is. We are all very excited.”
I remain motionless except for flexing and curling my fingertips alongside my thighs. My hair whips in all directions from the strong wind, but I force myself to focus only on Lowell.
“You are all familiar with how today will go,” Lowell says, speaking to the surrounding crowd and me. “Your strength and speed will be tested first, followed by your mental cognition.”
I nod, knowing exactly what will come.
“And following that completion, an assignment will be given,” he continues to speak. “Also, in case you forgot, these will be timed.”
I narrow my gaze.
“Should you not complete the assignments successfully within the allotted timeframe, you will leave the Order. For what we need you for, our Hollow Huntress, failure isn’t an option, but let’s not pretend that’s a shocking statement.”
The name pierces me, and anger swells in my chest like a raging storm, yet I smile. That’s exactly what I need in this moment to succeed. I don’t try to dull the anger. I breathe it in like a burning crimson gust and let my face contort, as if madness has taken over.
“Shaw Durante will begin the assessment. You have twenty minutes to complete the first task.”
Lowell sits back in his chair, his wings hanging heavily over the side, and crosses his legs.
His face is amused as he watches me intently for any signs of unease.
Shaw slowly stands, looking me directly in the eyes.
His hard expression cannot falter with Lowell around, but I know he hates to do this; however, he will not take it easy on me.
He walks toward me with his wings in disguise, signaling that we will begin in the gun arena.
A series of moving targets will be thrown my way, and I must complete a kill shot for each before they disappear.
This test is fast, requires extreme focus, and will culminate in one final task—finding Shaw and shooting him.
Shaw being the chosen assassin for this is pure punishment for me after snatching the gun from his holster yesterday morning. It’s cruel and serves as a reminder of the importance of training.
He powers forward, disappearing into the structure, which is filled with numerous rooms, hallways, corners, and features an open roof for visibility and judgment.
I slowly unholster my pistol, feeling the weight of the metal in my hands.
I click the safety off and calmly walk toward the looming building.
All the large white doors are closed, and it’s silent except for the rustling of the breeze outside and the loud beeps of the timer.
I press my back against the wooden frame of the structure and inhale deeply.
Lowell and the others watch intently, and I make sure to give them a wink before using my heel to kick in the door, sending a bang echoing into the open air.
I slip into the first room, making sure to angle my body to the opening.
My arms extend with the gun held forward as my hands grip the weapon, ready to pull the trigger.
I immediately face both directions, clearing the way for me to enter farther with calm, calculated steps—one foot in front of the other.
Focus, Mara. You can do this.
I pause to listen, planning my next step.
I don’t hear any rustling or movement in the adjacent rooms, so I move toward the next door, calming my heart with a single deep breath.
In another fluid motion, I rip open the door, checking the corner first before swiftly twisting to the opposite side of the room.
My stomach drops, but I don’t hesitate, knowing who’s watching.
I fire my weapon, the bullet moving more slowly as it carries a different weight, and watch as a hybrid hits the ground with a thud.
The half-angel’s body slaps the concrete, blood quickly pooling around his heart, and I realize these aren’t practice dummies.
Lowell has Orderless angels and demons as the targets.
I will, one by one, take out the Voids hidden in this arena. Or I fail.
I can’t let it affect me. I remind myself that this is my job, and I’ve made it too far to stop now. The old Mara wouldn’t have batted an eye doing this, so I will ignore my internal screams and become that old version of myself.