Page 99 of Hell's Prisoner
“I guess we head for the light.” I sounded like a damn cliché. Also, I was pretty sure that phrase was only used when talking about dying. Hopefully that wasn’t an omen for Laila and me.
The tunnel wasn’t large enough for me to walk without crouching, and every couple of minutes, dirt rained down on our heads. We’d probably come out of this place looking like we’d just crawled out of our graves.
We hadn’t been walking long when the light got abruptly brighter and the pathway dead-ended. I tilted my head back to look up into the round hole ten or so feet above me. We were close enough to freedom to taste it but still too far away to grasp it.
Laila dug her fingers into the wall, and clumps of dirt slid down to the floor. “There’s no way to climb this.”
“I know.” I turned in a slow circle. The space wasn’t huge, but it was big enough to spread my wings… Sort of. They’d scrape the walls of the tunnel and it would probably hurt like a bitch, but it was possible. “I can get us out.”
I pulled her in to my chest, holding her tight to me as I bent my knees and prepared to jump the second my wings spread. “Hold on to my neck.”
She clung to me as I took a deep breath and let my wings out for the first time in over three years. We shot upward, dirt and small stones tearing at my feathers.
I landed less than gracefully beside the hole in the ground, turning just in time to ensure I hit the earth first as we toppled over.
A grunt slipped past my lips as I landed on my back and wings, still holding Laila tight against my chest.
“Are you okay?” she asked, climbing off me.
“Fine,” I said, my voice strained and probably not at all convincing. But it was the truth. I was fine. We were no longer in Hell. The air felt cleaner, lighter. I could feel my body healing, the scrapes on my wings vanishing. When I looked down at my chest, the scars were fading to near invisibility. I’d probably always have them, but they were too faded for a human eye to see. Even an angel might not notice them at first glance.
I only got a couple of seconds to admire my healing body before the sounds of someone approaching had me on my feet and pulling Laila in close.
Two figures emerged from trees around us. They stopped dead when they saw us, and for a minute we just stared at each other.
Micah looked different than I remembered. He still exuded power, but there was a new tiredness in his indigo eyes. The pure black wings of an archangel extended from his back, practically blocking the woman with him from view.
I didn’t recognize her. She looked like she was in her early thirties with dark curls and electric-blue eyes. She was human, and her emotions swirled around her in a colorful aura. She was surprised with a tiny bit of admiration mixed in.
“Joriel,” Micah said finally.
“I didn’t expect a welcoming committee,” I said, not loosening my hold on Laila.
“And I didn’t expect to find you here.”
“So I take it you’renothere to welcome me back from Hell?” I raised my eyebrows at him.
“More like coming togetyou out of Hell.”
“That’s why Prince Beautiful told us we were running out of time,” Laila murmured. “He said we’d see when we got here.”
“Prince Beautiful? Really, snow angel?”
She shrugged. “He was pretty.”
“And an original Fallen,” I muttered under my breath, low enough that Micah and his companion couldn’t hear.
“How’d you get out?” Micah was looking at me the way he had my last year before Lucifer claimed my soul. Like he didn’t trust me. Like I wasn’t his brother anymore. It still hurt, but not as much as it had years ago. My soul was my own now, and there would be time to prove that to Micah later.
“I’m honestly not sure,” I said. “But my blood’s gold again. Lucifer doesn’t own my soul anymore.”
“Your blood was gold for a year after you made your deal.”
“Micah,” the woman with him said, her tone admonishing.
He glanced at her, and they stared at each other for a long moment before Micah backed down. Interesting.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” I said. “I’m Joriel.”
