Page 8 of Zar

Chapter Three

Callie’s head hurt when she tried to open her eyes, so she kept them closed. A few minutes. That’s all she needed, then she’d wake up from this weird, alcohol induced nightmare. Sure, that was it. She’d been drinking wine. Maybe she’d had too much. She’d passed out probably. She’d always been a total lightweight. Voices floated over to her and she stilled, listening to the angry tone of the one she didn’t recognize.

“You were under strict orders to bring her here unharmed. What part of that did you not understand, regis?”

“My king, it was unavoidable.” Callie recognized that voice. Flare. And he was getting a serious beat down from someone.

The loud crash of something possibly being thrown, then, “Why were her eyes uncovered?”

“There was terror when I attempted it,” Flare explained. “I did not wish to cause her such distress.”

“So, instead you allowed her to nearly die of fright! How does that make sense?”

“She saw Seraphina take flight and it upset her, my king.”

“She’s earth-born, Flare, of course it upset her.”

Okay, she’d heard enough. Callie opened her eyes and looked around. She was in a large room. High ceilings, knotty-pine walls. She started to sit up, noticing as she did that she was sprawled out on a couch. A big, brown L-shaped monstrosity. As she swung her legs to the floor, Callie realized the room had gone silent. She lifted her head and saw two strangers standing in front of a kneeling Flare. All three of them stared at her. And all three of them had wings. Flare had wings. Silver, like his hair. Where the hell had those come from? Another man standing with his arms crossed over his chest, frowned at her. He had deep red hair down past his shoulders and wings to match. Callie hadn’t seen anything so beautiful. They were a deep crimson. The span immense. He was tall and he was twice the size of Flare. Muscles on top of muscles. He wore armor. Big, heavy metal armor. As if he were a knight from medieval days. He glared at her as if she’d kicked his puppy. She forced her gaze away from Mr. Cranky and looked at the third man, or creature rather. He was the tallest of the three and muscular, like body builder huge. His eyes were a molten silver. Black wings and shiny black hair that hung to just above his shoulders. He wore a black, t-shirt, black jeans and shit-kicker boots. He held a gold-colored whip in his right hand. Oh, God, had he been using that wicked looking thing on Flare? No way were they angels. That meant she wasn’t dead. Nor was this a nightmare. She was most definitely wide awake.

She started to stand, but the one with black wings suddenly appeared in front of her and held her in place with a one large palm against her shoulder. She narrowed her eyes and swatted the back of his hand. “Hands off, pal,” she grumbled as she scooted to the left and stood up.

His gaze widened as he watched her. “Did you just hit me?”

She thrust her nose in the air and put her fists on her hips. “I’ll do more than that if you touch me again.”

Suddenly Mr. Cranky was there. He grabbed her by the forearm and thrust her away from the other man. “I will see to her punishment immediately, my king.”

He started to drag her away, but she dug her heels in and yanked against his hold. He didn’t budge. Callie clawed at the hand gripping her arm. His fingers tightened and it felt as if he were going to break her bones. “Let me go! You’re hurting me!”

“Release her, Dyre,” the black-winged man said, his voice edged with steel.

Mr. Cranky released her instantly. Callie stumbled, but caught herself before she could land on her ass. She rubbed her arm and glared at him. “Jerk.”

His gaze widened and he looked over at Flare. The poor guy was still down on his knees. “What does this mean?” Mr. Cranky asked, staring at Flare.

“She does not like you,” Flare explained, as if being called a jerk was somehow foreign to these people. Again, winged creatures. It’s possible English wasn’t even their first language. Did they perhaps sing like birds? I’ve definitely fallen into another dimension here. Seriously, if Mr. Cranky started to chirp like a cardinal there was no telling what would come out of her mouth. Okay, don’t get ahead of yourself, crazy.

The man grumbled something under his breath but stayed silent. Callie walked over to Flare and pointed at him, then looked back at the black-winged creature. “Why is he on his knees?” God, was she actually sticking up for the man who kidnapped her? I’ve lost my damn mind.

“He went against my direct orders by allowing you to be injured,” he explained in a slow, clear voice, as if she were an idiot.

She cursed, fast losing patience. “The only person guilty of that is you, king.”

His lips twitched as if amused. “And how do you figure that?”

“You had him kidnap me and bring me to…who the hell knows where. You could’ve set up a meeting like any other normal person.” Normal? They have wings, dingbat. There’s nothing normal about any of this.

Black-wings moved closer to her. “You think I should show Flare mercy?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes. It’s your fault, not his.”

Callie heard Dyre say something under his breath but she couldn’t make it out. The king merely held up a hand to silence him, before directing his full attention to her again. Amazingly, Dyre bowed his head and went completely silent. Ookay. Maybe Black-wings really was a king.

“Flare, you are free to go,” he said, but his gaze never strayed from hers.

Flare stood. His gaze sought hers. Neither of them said a word as he nodded his thanks and left the room.

“Better?” the king said, as his lips curved into a sideways grin. God, he was handsome. Well, handsome for a guy with wings. Jesus, Callie suddenly felt like a sinner. As if she were lusting after a real angel. Come to that…

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