Chapter 21
N eela dropped into Rhode’s arms like a stone, her eyelids fluttering with a spasm that mimicked his erratic heartbeat. Fire roared through his veins as he briefly looked behind him to confirm that, yes, the portal had disappeared and the three charmers were nothing but steaming ashes painting the asphalt.
The charmer in his arms, however . . .
“Neela—” he said thinly, trying to keep the worry and confusion out of his voice.
“Mmm . . . Hurts . . .” She moaned behind lips that had already begun to pale along the creases.
“There could be more coming. I have to move you. It-It might be uncomfortable.”
Neela closed her eyes and nodded sharply. “Do it.”
Ignoring the gouges along his ribs and the sharp cry she let out when he cradled her to his chest, he stretched his battered wings and got airborne. Not wanting to soar too high lest their presence call undue attention to themselves, he skirted the arcs of the nearby roller coasters, riding their descents until he saw the only place even remotely defensible: behind a dumpster at the back of a neighboring lumber yard. Plenty of construction vehicles and metal to work with and even more wood to ignite should he need it.
That was, if his fire hadn’t been entirely spent already.
Rhode touched down in the fading shadow cast by the dumpster and settled Neela across his lap.
“I’ve never—” She swallowed around a cough. “I don’t . . .”
“Quiet.” The word came out harsher than he meant it, and he cursed himself before gentling his words. “Easy. Let me see.”
“ . . . you’re . . . angry . . . not my . . . fault . . .”
“Shhh, save your strength.”
Rhode settled her gently onto the pavement and pulled the hem of her sweaterdress up her thigh, then hissed. On her right knee, just above where the boot’s leather kissed her calf, her pale skin had begun to crackle and peel. Dark char outlined her kneecap, the edges of which began curling outward from the corroded pockmarks in the center, attacking any clean flesh it could find.
The apex’s magic hadn’t been designed for her but for the sentinels. It was a dark perversion crafted over years to fight back against the angels in their metallic forms. Cyro had long ago tasked his demons with cultivating magic that could rust, corrode, eat away, or molecularly destroy the sentinels’ metals.
And it seemed that the bastard had perfected the formula, improving it so it worked on their flesh forms as well.
Rhode sat there and watched in horror as the sickly spell crept higher over her knee, until the very swell of the lower thigh he’d had his hand on moments ago began to pucker and shrivel. The more intently he watched the taint, the faster it seemed to crawl. It was already a challenge to keep her hands from clawing at it. If she did manage to touch it . . .
He, more than anyone, knew a fucking contagion when he saw one.
Neela’s moans turned to whimpers, then panting hisses as his soul bond tried to fight off a magical enemy she couldn’t understand, knew nothing of, and had no hope of defeating.
But he did. He knew all of those things. And it terrified him.
Rhode cleared his throat. “Neela.”
Agony raged in her eyes but did little to fight off the poison quickly consuming her.
He tried again. “Neela, I have to?—”
Then the screams erupted out of her, deafening ear-shattering wails that were the telltale mark of any dying animal. And the siren’s song to any predator within a ten-mile radius.
Shit.
Rhode held her down in the manner of all battlefield wounded, knowing full well comfort was not part of the operation and wishing with his entire being that he could offer it to her.
On instinct, he held her limbs still, straining to contain her writhing body so she wouldn’t . . . Wouldn’t what? Hurt herself further? So he might prevent her from inadvertently biting her tongue lest she choke on the blood and leave the dark magic with less active prey to devour? Fuck!
His mind whirled, cursing every ounce of angel fire he no longer had because he’d used it in service of his own worthless protection earlier in hand-to-hand combat. But hadn’t she healed him once before? Something about their supposed bond, something?—
While Rhode focused on the charred skin flaking off her inner thigh, a notion he’d just glossed over clung to his paranoid list of solutions. Prevent her from biting . . .
Biting.
Tongue. Mouth.
A kiss.
He didn’t know what propelled him to consider the idea fully, but out of options, time, and security, he lowered his mouth to the ruined skin of her thigh just above her kneecap and sealed his lips to her. Instinct had him sweeping his tongue over the shriveled skin. Once, twice, then a third time, kissing the site with a sad, yet urgent reverence.
Then she stilled. The screaming stopped. The femoral artery beneath his tongue slowed its frightful pace by a degree, then another. A sudden flush of warmth infused his chest and cheeks but not the kind his angel fire recognized.
This was a new power. One he’d never asked for and had violently tried to reject but was commanding with a general’s call.
Between one kiss and the next, the skin beneath Rhode’s lips warmed and smoothed out, until his mouth met a healed strip of new pink skin. He dragged his tongue higher, kissing the next patch and the next. Soon, the anticorrosive properties of the metal he governed had taken shape, enrobing Neela’s skin in a protective layer that absorbed every ounce of vile tarnishing magic that had been heaved at her.
Magic, he realized, that very much did affect her when she was in the mortal world during the day.
A fact she’d swore to him was not possible.
Rhode sat up a bit, pulled the tattered remains of her dress back down, and cupped the side of her neck. She was breathing normally again, those full lips of hers flushing a deeper shade of berry as color returned to her cheeks. Her eyes tracked him as he methodically examined every part of her, checking for any corrosive magic he might have missed.
But his gaze returned to those lips and then to the questions floating behind her shaken eyes.
“You kissed me,” she said, no doubt addressing the first of many unusual occurrences of the evening.
“I did.” He nodded solemnly, struggling to keep his warring thoughts in check. When he couldn’t do it any longer, he leaned forward and claimed her mouth. It was a hard brush of lips and a quick, solid reassurance that health had returned to both of them.
Trust, however . . .
He broke the kiss. “And you lied.” Rhode pulled away, setting her as far apart from him as he could without hurting her, and stood. “I shouldn’t be surprised that treachery tastes so sweet. I’ve never had much of a sweet tooth, however.”
At that, Neela vaulted upright. “What are you talking about?”
Rhode found his phone in his back pocket, hit a button, and brought it to his ear. While he waited for the call to connect, he glared at her. “I won’t abandon you again, but nor will I let you live without explaining why.”
When the call was answered, he stepped away to make the arrangements that needed to be made. When he returned, Neela was on her feet, with her hands stretched out before her, palms open and pleading, but he turned away before he could see more.
“Why? Why what? I don’t understand, Rhode.”
“Why you told us you couldn’t be wounded or killed when I just witnessed how you very much fucking can be. Why those charmers expected you to be here but came prepared to dispatch both of us.” He stalked toward her, a desperate fury overcoming him as he gripped her throat and angled her mouth to his but held her a breath away. “Why you begged for my touch, for supposed happiness , just long enough to ensure that an adequate amount of the day had fled so your fellow demons could attack me.”
It was the silence that finally did him in, both from her stammering lips and his vengeful soul caving in after being denied the answers it was starving for. Hurt flashed hot and heavy across her features, but it was no match for the fury that punched through his ragged chest when it replayed the betrayal perpetuated by his own soul bond.
Rhode dropped his hand and softly pushed her away from him. Despite nearly losing her leg, she didn’t stumble. She merely stood there with a gaunt expression that was almost as hollow as he felt.
“Titan and Iron will be here soon. They’ll escort you.”
“Escort me where?” she asked, her voice quivering.
He gave her his back and looked to the sky, measuring the distance the dark clouds traveled and how long it would take before he would be able to leap into them.
“Your cell.”