Page 120 of Wings of Lies
“We’re too late,” Miriam whispered, tightening her grip on her son.
Emily ran to her daughter, pulling her off the couch. “We can go out the back!”
But before anyone could move, an explosion shook the house, sending us to the red-carpeted floor. Miriam covered Oliver and her son from the raining debris, while Emily covered her daughter. We coughed into our arm as Miriam pulled us up, dragging us into an antique kitchen.
“Get to the hall. We’ll run out the back.” Emily nodded to a doorway on the other side of the kitchen.
We ran behind Miriam, following her down a long hallway, and smashed into her back as she stopped. Peering around her, we found my worst nightmare stepping through the back door.
Marcus was here. And if the body I invaded belonged to back-stabbing, jokesterOliver, and we were with his sister and mother…
This was about to be another tragic dream I wanted no part of.
“Well, I just love it when things are made easy for us,” he laughed.
Miriam pulled her son behind her and backed us up.
“We’re surrounded,” Emily said.
Oliver gazed behind us to the exploded foyer and back at Marcus.
Figures covered in blood-red leather crowded into both sides of the hallway. Emblems of different colors decorated their chests.
Marcus prowled closer. A pulse resonated the air, and two balls of blinding white light formed in Miriam’s hands. She threw one toward his face and the other to the figures behind us. Marcus dodged it, but it didn’t stop the balls of light from obliterating two of his armed soldiers—no blood, no flesh bits, no ash. They were just gone.
Our eyes widened.
Miriam formed two more balls of light. The color reminded me of my Glory, only brighter and hotter, and the core appeared blue. She flung it at Marcus’s chest, but again, he dodged it, and two more soldiers died.
“I can do this all day, darling,” he smirked beneath his hat.
Miriam didn’t rise to his baiting words, throwing ball after ball down each side of the hall until four soldiers remained. Sandwiched between her and Emily, we grabbed our little sister’s and Miriam’s son’s hands.
“Mathew, give some incentive,” Marcus said, shrugging his shoulders with nonchalance, unphased by the ball of light that almost singed his cowboy hat.
I didn’t know what that meant, but I found out real quick when Emily screamed and collapsed to the floor.
“Emily!” Miriam yelled, turning to throw both balls of light at the two remaining soldiers behind us.
“Mom!” Oliver scrambled to her side, horrified by the two knives protruding from her stomach.
That was all Marcus needed—a split second of distraction.
Miriam shrieked, and something sizzled.
We whipped our head around. Marcus latched onto her wrist as deep red shadows seeped from his glowing marks and devoured the flesh on Miriam’s arm—inch by inch. The sight of her bloody bones and the smell of her burning muscles turned Oliver’s stomach.
The air pulsed, and a blue ball of fire formed in Miriam’s hand. Sweat slicked our arms from the uncomfortable heat. But before she could smash it into Marcus’s face, it fizzled.
“Having issues?” Marcus taunted.
“No!” she screamed, pulling a knife from one of her many sheaths. It plunged toward his side. He clawed into her burning flesh, pulling her forward. She cried out but managed to stab the horrid male in the leg.
“Bitch!” Marcus seethed, stumbling back.
Miriam unsheathed another dagger, holding it out as her half-eaten arm dangled by her side.
“You’ll pay for that,” he said, forming another cloud of red smoke between his hands.
