Page 21 of Wings of Lies
“And,” he drew out. “It’s not an easy place to get to by yourself. You’d never be able to find it.”
I swung my legs off the bed and sat across from him. “So, show me the way.”
“No.” He stood.
“No?” I swiveled, watching him walk toward the door. Needles shot across my skin as my chest squeezed. I was this close to finding more answers about my mom, and he was going to leave me. Pressure throbbed in my hands. “Wait! You can’t go!” I said, flinging out my arm as if I could stop him. A pulse of pure-white light shot from my hand, flying straight for Oliver’s head.
He ducked in time, panning wide-eyed from my hand to the charred hotel door.
“I’m just going pee. I figured you wouldn’t want to join. But if my head is on the line, you can watch and make sure I don’t escape down the toilet pipes,” he said slowly, palms raised as if to placate my outburst.
I looked between my dimming flames and the black spot still smoking behind Oliver’s head. “Yeah, no, sorry,” I gulped. “Go—go pee.”
I stared aghast at my hands, no longer lit by white light. That was the second time I almost hurt him or worse.
When the toilet flushed, I peered up, at a loss for words. Guilt lodged itself in my throat. Did I beg for forgiveness and hope he’d take pity on me and take me to Elora or did I—no. I had no other option.
I had no place to go but Elora. I needed him.
“I can’t take you.”
The same tormenting energy sliced up my arms. As hard as I could, I bit into my fleshy cheeks, hoping the sharp sting would keep the crazy flames away.
“But Oliver! You said I wouldn’t be able to get there on my own. What do you expect me to do?”
“Not go? Just because some voice in your head said you should, doesn’t mean you should. I mean, not unless you have some contract or something,” he muttered, shrugging his shoulders like this conversation meant nothing.
“You’re here. You have angel blood and can take me where I need to go. My only other option is to go gazing into people’s eyes to see if they maybe have the purple ring and ask them to take me to Elora.” That didn’t sound like the worst idea. I was desperate enough.
His face scrunched as he gazed into the distance, running his hands through his hair. “No, scratch that. That’s probably not the best idea unless you want to go to a psych ward or have a knife to the throat. Elora is a tightly kept secret among our kind. If you don’t know about it, you won’t.”
“Then what? You can’t honestly think I’m going to drop this and go about my—my whatever the hell this is! I mean, they locked me in a room and tortured me, then I get dropped into your lap after I’mtold to go to Elora?” I lifted my hands, shaking them. “That’s a pretty damn big coincidence, don’t you think?”
He let loose a heavy breath. “Yeah, fates a fickle bitch, isn’t she?” Sinking back down on the bed, he stared at me. Pain flashed across his face. “The thing is, I promised myself I wouldn’t return until I found a way to reach… someone.”
That stirred up a lot of questions and an idea. “What if…” I wasn’t sure how, but I had to try everything. “What if I could help you? In exchange for taking me to Elora, I’ll help you find a way to this person?”
After I found Magda, another person the voice in my head told me to find—who had my answers—then my mom. But I’d tell him that part later.
He considered me for a second. “You want to go that bad? You don’t even know anything about my situation. Or Elora.”
Yes, I wanted to go that bad, and I would do whatever it took to get to her. Nothing was about to stop me. I needed my mom, and she needed me.
The bubble of laughter that erupted from him confused me. He shook his head. “Maybe this is part of it, the vague bastard,” he muttered.
“What?” I asked.
Abruptly, he stood. “Fine. Deal. You’ll help me find a way to her, and I’ll take you to Elora. We can talk specifics on the way.”
Relief washed through me. I didn’t think it’d be that easy. But thank whoever for small mercies.
“I guess she was right about you,” I said, relieved.
He squinted at me before understanding loosened his brows. “It was me. The person the female in your head spoke of was me.” Itwasn’t a question. And by the weary surprise pinching his lips, I regretted saying anything. “I’m really starting to hate voices in heads,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Let’s go.”
I held back my eager smile, hurrying to put my shoes on. “So, how far is it?”
“Oh, probably about two days,” Oliver stated, glancing toward the daylight streaking through the window of our room.
