Ronen #2
“Why do you keep getting up?” I asked at one point, my fist twisted in his unearned Hell Squadron uniform.
He spat blood and just stared at me expectantly, like I had with Alexei. The pet had life left in him.
I threw him back, punched him, then kicked his knee out, watching him fall.
“Why the fuck do you keep getting up?” I pressed. I wasn’t about to spell it out for him.
He didn’t answer. I attacked.
Blood dripped from his nose, split lip, and cracked eyebrow.
His face swelled, and although our squadron uniforms were thick, they didn’t prevent bruising.
With the number of times I’d kneed, kicked, and punched his ribs, I’d be surprised if they weren’t broken.
Based on the way he hunched over, my assumption had merit.
He looked rough. Yet he didn’t raise a fist. He took it and staggered forward as if asking for more.
“I don’t know.” He waited almost eagerly for my punches—for the pain.
Pathetic. Yet understandable.
The forest dimmed, signaling the end of our time.
“Not good enough. Maybe you’ll have an answer for me tomorrow. Same time. Same place.” I gathered my swords, resheathing them as I searched the ground around the funerary platform.
“Why would you think I’d come back here with you tomorrow?” His tone lacked emotion and inflection. It almost didn’t sound like a question, more like a rehearsed phrase he knew he should ask to hide his true intentions.
I found the precious item I was searching for, picking it up and pocketing it before walking back to the pet with a smug grin. “Because we both know that little bit of pain did nothing to curb the agony of what you did to them. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes.”
“Seeing as Lucille isn’t out here running in front of my fists, I’m assuming you’re blocking your pain. Continue to do that. And go to the healers’ wing to see Sam. This will be our little secret.”
We luscelered back to the castle. On the way, I called for Rune and met her at the arena doors. After folding a small piece of paper around the chain, I pulled out two letters, tucking the necklace into the second one.
“Find Dorus first, then MJ, and give these to her,” I instructed, placing the letters on top of her head. Her shadows wrapped around the edges, securing the papers. I refrained from laughing. The folded pages protruded from her forehead like a tiny origami hat.
She growled, sensing my amusement.
“Hey, let’s just be grateful I’m not your average Seraphim, or the hellion would have to deal with a letter drenched in your foul saliva to keep it from burning.”
Rune bared her lengthy teeth, looking vicious and rabid. I glanced left and right, making sure no one lurked behind me before lowering to grab her muzzle and place a kiss on her nose.
“I’ll make you something tonight to help with your breath,” I murmured against her moving fur.
A sense of gratefulness flew down our connection, alerting me to the fact that she’d been really self-conscious about her breath.
I sighed. Lucille was turning my unruly Soulhound into a prissy princess.
“Go on. I’ll be in the healers’ wing until training.”
She bounded through the concerning slush, and I walked to the other side of the castle, relaying a message to Cato before heading to the healers’ wing.
I stepped into Alexei’s room. He lay on his stomach, his wings ragged and patchy. His wounds no longer oozed cloudy fluid. Sam must have finished his debridement and healed his tissues yesterday. Maybe Alexei had a better chance of saving his wings than I thought.
“Come to see the show?” he asked, staring unseeingly at the magazine in front of him. It displayed beautiful females wearing costumes in compromising positions. Everything Alexei could want and more. I had no idea where he’d gotten it, but it did nothing to lighten his mood.
I sat in the chair beside his bed, getting pretty sick and tired of finding myself in this position again.
“What’d Sam say?”
Alexei flipped the page.
“I’ve got two choices—cut my wings off, or continue treatment, which would include reopening my wounds to attempt repairing my ligaments, possibly risking infection that’d take them anyway and potentially kill me, or if I’m lucky, maybe I’ll fly again.”
I’d assumed he’d be okay based on his stitched wounds. Some were healed over, but the ones that weren’t must contain a bone or ligament underneath for Sam to attempt to fix.
“Lex—”
“Save it. MJ’s already given me a speech. I’ll be fine. I’ll fly again.”
I held my words, knowing all about MJ’s speeches. If she couldn’t get through to him, then I sure as hell couldn’t. Plus, this was his choice. With more than two hundred years under his belt, he could decide for himself what was best.
“Okay.”
He turned, finally looking at me, his already suspicious expression narrowing further.
“Did you get into another fight without me?”
He seemed a bit put out by that idea.
“I wouldn’t call it a fight. More a beatdown. I’m taking a page out of Alexei’s training book.”
“My training…” He abruptly sat up, wincing as he jostled his wings. “You didn’t! Is he here now?”
“Yep.”
“You’d better hope Lucille never sees this!”
I lifted a brow.
“Why do you think he’s here at the ass crack of dawn?”
“Damn,” he muttered. “I kinda wish I’d been there to see that.”
“It wasn’t anything special. More like beating a punching bag that barely moved.”
Alexei laughed.
“Now you know how I felt.”
“Yeah. Except I have the added benefit of knowing their guardian bond is some kind of forced cordistella bond.”
Based on the way Alexei didn’t shout or come up with some outlandish remark, I realized MJ had filled him in.
“You tested him with your Soul Sword.”
“He felt something, but it didn’t burn him like it should’ve.”
Alexei slowly shook his head.
“I’m actually surprised you let him live.”
“Me too,” I grumbled, glancing out his window. The evergreens still had snow on their boughs. For now.
“Ridigar deserted, Lex. I believe he’s involved in Cecilee’s disappearance and the flyers.”
“Hells.”
“I sent some Dreads out to search, but I don’t believe we’ll find him.”
Alexei nodded, pressing his tongue into his cheek and staring at nothing in particular.
“I’m assuming Anya didn’t give you anything?”
“Nothing we didn’t already know.”
The muffled voices of healers and soft footsteps whispered through our silence as we sat deep in thought.
Alexei dropped his magazine. “How is it possible that they’d be coming from the Immolation Circle, then leaving? Some kind of witchy magic? A portal so small it doesn’t give off a power signature or visual cues?”
Cato glided into the room at that moment.
“I’m so glad you asked, Lex.”
He carried a stack of tomes from chin to fingertip, somehow still looking tall and unbothered while doing it.
“The books you asked for, General.”
He set them beside Alexei’s bed on the end table.
“Will that be all?” Cato asked.
“For now.”
He dipped his head and left.
Alexei eyed the towering stack with raised brows.
“Don’t tell me those are for me.”
I stood, needing to talk to Sam.
“We need answers. That’s every text Cato has—not just on doorways and portals, but anything that could move or hold a large amount of souls while still being inconspicuous.”
He groaned, dropping his head between two big-breasted ladies displayed in his magazine.
“I’d rather search for Ridigar and use him as a pincushion for my knives, but this will have to do.”
“We can always cut off your wings. I can numb you, take them off, heal you, and you’ll be on your way by tonight,” Sam suggested as he walked into the room.
Alexei dragged himself off the bed, his damaged wings covering his ass as his gown opened.
“Or you could clear me, and I could get back to work.”
Disapproval tugged Sam’s lips into a flat line.
“Say that without a grimace and without your fingers twitching to help hold up your wings, and I’ll agree.”
Alexei crossed his arms, wincing as his shoulder blades pulled at his wounds, then dropped them.
“Hell’s going to shit, Sam. Grounds melting, demons are demoning, armies are growing. Ronen needs me back. So how about I deal with my pain, and you deal with the rest when I come back in the mornings?”
He glanced at me.
“And we put MJ on reading duty.”
Sam’s expression never changed.
“Please,” Alexei added.
Sam moved behind him and attempted to extend one of Alexei’s wings. He made it an inch before Alexei tensed, teeth baring and fists clenching. Another inch and he hissed.
“Okay! Okay!”
“Twenty percent of your ligaments are shredded—half barely stable, the rest likely gone. Seventy percent of your muscles have just been torn and healed, needing at least another day to stabilize. Then there’s the matter of healing from your last injuries. So please, ask me again to leave.”
“I guess I’ll be reading then.”
Alexei snatched a book and threw it onto the bed. The spine slammed into the bedframe, and both Sam and I cringed.
Good thing Cato wasn’t here.
“If you change your mind, let me know. Otherwise, I have you scheduled for another healing tonight.”
Alexei flipped open the book, glaring into the pages.
“I’m keeping my wings.”
“That’s your choice,” Sam agreed, then turned to me. “Ronen, I need to speak with you in my lab.”
Had he finally found another solution to studying the blood? I hoped so.
“I’ll be right there.” I waited until he left Alexei’s room, then faced my brother. “I need something else from you.”
Alexei turned another page. “You heard the doc. I’m to be imprisoned until my wings quit being little Bowel babes.”
“Do you still talk to Vanessa?”
He looked up from the book, frowning. “Maybe. Why?”
“Does she still work in the kitchen delivering food?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I need you to use your Alexei charm on her so she can spy on Lucifer for us. Figure out a way to get her here and have her report to you every other day. Keep it all discreet.”
“So we’re going to risk our heads to spy on the king?”
He sounded reluctant to give in to my demands, but I knew him. And judging by the glint of intrigue in his eyes, he’d do it.