6. Chapter Six
Present Day
Adrenaline pulses in my veins as we approach the house. Next to me, Surnelia hugs herself, her steps tentative.
I brush a hand over her elbow. “It’ll be okay. I’m here. He won’t be able to do anything. We’ll get in, grab your things, and get out.”
She looks at me, almond-shaped blue eyes full of doubt. As a siren, she already has it tough in the city. Grabbing her belongings with her abusive Seraphim ex-boyfriend hovering is a terrifying prospect. For her.
Not me.
I’ll crisp up those feathers without blinking.
Their house is of typical Gondoran style, made of pale stone and metal, with domed ceilings over the main spaces. The yard’s a mess, and the shutter’s blue paint is peeling. There are no signs of life, but that doesn’t mean anything. She thinks Bael is here, so I need to be prepared for anything.
Surnelia stops at the front door, wiping her hands against her shirt. Casting me a nervous glance, she says, “You sure we don’t need anyone else here?”
What she’s really asking is, do we need a man here?
Flashing a grin, I lift my hair. Fire crackles above my palm. “I’m positive.”
I also have thousands of hours in the arena at this point, but there’s no need to brag.
She still looks doubtful, but opens the door anyway. The hallway’s darkened from the shuttered windows. The lone light comes from the domed ceiling.
We exchange a look; I raise my hand of flame, signalling for her to wait. While she presses against the wall, I take quiet steps into the house.
It’s eerily quiet here. Enough to raise the hair on my arms. “Hello?”
My voice echoes. Maybe there’s no one actually here. She’s confident Bael’s here, but it wouldn’t be the first time one of my girls was wrong.
Turning to Surnelia, I whisper, “Where’s your room?”
She points to a hallway on my left. “Down at the end, to the right.”
“Wait here.”
Surnelia curls into herself, fear plastered all over her features. From the reports, I know the beatings were nasty. Broken bones, permanent scars … not unlike Orliana.
Thinking about my best friend’s hidden wounds pisses me the fuck off. Mikan is beyond lucky that I found out too late. He would’ve been cremated on the spot.
Keeping my steps light, hoping my combat boots don’t catch a squeaky floorboard, I creep down the hallway. Power sings through my veins, aching to burn everything down. It’s a destructive instinct, one I haven’t fully entertained since the night I left my mother’s house in ashes.
As the room draws closer, sounds appear. Scuffling and muttering. Clenching my jaw, I pause at the bedroom doorway; peer around the edge of the doorframe.
Bael’s digging through drawers, throwing items around. Searching for something. Probably a clue to where Surnelia went. He’s so busy muttering to himself, he didn’t hear me call out.
He’s big, with nine-foot tall blue wings, pale blue skin, and midnight blue hair. Like most Seraphim, he’s naturally buff. Those muscles aren’t for show either. Physically, I’m outmatched … if I didn’t know what I was doing.
Stepping fully into the doorway, I clear my throat. Bael stands, whirling around, his blue eyes manic. They narrow on me with suspicion, then widen when he sees my fire. I add a second fireball to my other hand.
His voice is full of threats when he growls, “Who are you?”
“I’m here to help Surnelia collect what she needs. Stay out of our way and there won’t be any issues.”
He takes a menacing step forward. “Is she here?”
“Doesn’t matter.” I give the balcony doors a pointed look. “You’re going to stand outside until I say you can come back in. Or I’ll be having a barbecue for lunch.”
He sneers. “A tiny thing like yourself is going to stop me?”
“I’ve kicked the asses of bigger,” I say blandly.
Bael scoffs, his body relaxing. “Where is she? I just want to talk.”
“Balcony. Now.”
Conversationally, he says, “Nah, I don’t think so. I deserve an explanation. We’ve been together for four years. She can’t just run.”
“Balcony. Now.”
Crossing his arms, Bael smirks. “No.”
Making fists, I cover them in blue fire.
He doesn’t flinch. Why isn’t he scared? Most of them are scared about—
Freezing water slams into my face, extinguishing my fire.
Fuck. He’s a water elemental. Why didn’t I ask what his element was?
Absolute rookie mistake, but no matter.
Knowing I have seconds before he gains full control of the situation, I lunge for his neck. He’s taken aback, giving me the opportunity to use the momentum to swing upward. My legs expertly squeeze around his thick neck.
His hands claw as he gasps. Pressing my palms to his face, I relish the way he screams when his skin boils. His body sways as he panics, flailing as I choke him out.
Go to sleep.
I repeat the phrase silently, hoping he’s a quick fainter. It’s clear he isn’t used to women fighting back.
I’m chucked forward as he bows, the momentum flinging me off onto the floor. Damn. He’s smart.
In a flash, I’m scrambling to stand. He charges, grabbing for any part of my body. One hand is on my neck immediately, squeezing. The other grabs my wrist, grinding bones painfully. Blood roars in my ears; instinctually, I disassociate from the pain.
I kick out, my boot colliding with his groin. The pressure around my neck loosens, allowing a breath. He slams me into the wall; we both grunt. A lamp topples over at the same time all the frames on the wall shatter on the floor.
“You stupid bitch,” he hisses. Big blue wings flare, blocking out the light. “She’s never allowed to leave me, and she knows it.”
He slams a hand against my mouth, pouring water down my throat. A flare of terror blinds my thoughts for a moment. My lungs burn, desperate for oxygen. He’s dousing my power with each drop of freezing water.
Stay calm. It goes quiet in my mind as I assess the situation. Over a foot taller, Bael has longer arms. The space between our bodies is large enough for me to take him by surprise.
Hundreds of hours doing abdominal workouts propel my legs upward, kicking him in the face, then wrapping around his elbow.
Using every muscle in my body, I yank my legs down.
It bends his elbow enough for his grip to loosen.
Taking the heel of my hand, I slam it into his nose.
There’s a sickening crunch; he screams. Blood pours from his deformed nose.
I fall to the ground, but there’s no time to catch my breath. Snatching a handful of blue feathers, I ignite my hands.
The flames consume the delicate layers. Bael shrieks, forgetting my existence while he tries to dampen the inferno. I raise a hand; the blaze picks up its speed.
Throat throbbing, it’s difficult to catch my breath, but not impossible. Bael is chasing his wings like a sphinx chasing its tail. If it weren’t so dire, it’d be hilarious.
Standing, I brush off my pants and assess the situation. Half of one wing is gone, exposing charred bones. Raising my hand again, I clench my fingers. The flames disappear, leaving dark smoke curling upward, with embers quietly eating the edges of the feathers.
Bael slowly looks at me, pure hatred in his eyes. He might not have wanted to kill me before, but he probably does now.
Unimpressed, I raise an eyebrow. “Do you want to go to the balcony now, or would you like to lose another wing?”
“You’ll be arrested for this.”
Bored, I examine a hangnail. “Probably not. I’m here at my friend’s house and asked for you to step outside for a minute while she collects her things. You attacked me; the way I see it, you received the ass beating that’s been a long time coming.”
I can hear his molars grinding, but it’s clear he sees the logic. Men like him are slimy, self-serving plops of dung. He’ll always choose himself first. Like most of the men I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.
Victory curls the edges of my mouth as he staggers back toward the balcony. “You tell that bitch I’ll find her one day.”
I cock my head. “Is that a threat? Because I don’t take kindly to my friends being threatened. Sounds like you’re a liability, Bael.”
His jaw seesaws as his nose scrunches. “It’s a promise.”
Pointing a finger at him, I shoot out a flame to the good wing. Before he can stop it, a large hole sizzles through the feathers. He screams, slamming his hands into the fire.
“See what I mean, Bael? Now you can’t fly anywhere, so your whereabouts will be tracked by Dragxi. I’ll also be reporting you for assault. Best of luck getting anyone to take you seriously now.”
“Stupid bitch,” he snarls, spitting blood out of his mouth.
I bob my chin up and down enthusiastically. “Very original. Much impressed. Big wow.” I point to the balcony. “Now, go be a good boy and stand on the balcony.”
With one last hateful glance, he obeys. I smirk, watching him gingerly walk through the doorway, careful of his ruined wings. It’ll take months for them to grow back. Long enough for Surnelia to create a new life elsewhere. Train to defend herself.
When he’s outside, I march to the doors to lock them. Shocked, Bael charges at the door, trying to open it. I waggle my finger in admonishment. He lets go of the handle, defeated.
I mouth, good boy, then walk over to the bedroom door. “Everything’s fine. Let’s get your stuff.”
It takes a minute, but Surnelia appears, pale faced and sweaty. She sees the bruises blooming around my throat, my soaked clothes, and Bael glaring through the window.
“A-are you okay?” she whispers, a thumb picking at a nail.
I jerk my head. “Yep. Come on, let's get moving.”
Standing guard while she packs, I smile at the job well-done. Just another story, piled on the mound of vengeance I’ve applied over the years.