Page 22 of Wings of Lies
“That’s what you call near?” I scoffed.
He shrugged. “Near enough.” Then he started clapping. “Now get that booty up! We got to go shopping. We have supplies to get.”
“Clothes and food,” I agreed, tying my shoes like I’d chugged four cups of coffee. My muscles ached when I stood but held strong with their renewed strength. It may be straight adrenaline, too.
Up and down, he surveyed my steady legs. “Among other things,” he muttered, raising a brow. “Seems sleep and the angelic healing is working. I wasn’t sure what the cowboy-hatted scum was pumping into you.” Oliver rubbed at the burn mark on his chest.
I stared at the scarred skin peeking out from his white shirt. At first, I thought it might’ve been some metal branding tool that made it. But after almost incinerating Oliver’s neck with my flaming hand, I didn’t think that’s how he got it.
“What is he?”
Oliver sank back down to the corner of the mattress like the mere thought of the man stole his energy. “Marcus is a highly praised lackey in the Tenebrous Kingdom and a powerful Syric.”
I blinked. “A Syric?”
Another weird angel term?
“Yeah, Syric.” He shook his head, gazing at the charred mark I made on the door. “A dangerous asshole with the ability to melt offyour face with his glowy red runes.” He slapped his legs in emphasis and stood again. “So, keep that in mind the next time you see his half-covered psychotic smile.”
“And the Tenebrous Kingdom?”
Oliver snorted. “Oh, this beautiful place in Elora. You’d absolutely love it. Gorgeous waterfalls, luscious green grass, unique wildlife you’ve never seen before. It’s great.”
“Really?” I asked.
“No. Let’s go.”
We walked out of our room and back to the front lobby. Oliver smiled at each stair I confidently stepped down without his help.
“I’m so glad I don’t have to fireman carry you all the way to Elora.”
I snorted. “What do you mean carry?”
His smile turned sly. “How do you think we’re getting there?”
My brows furrowed. “A car?”
He chuckled.
Chapter
Seven
Oliver and I left the hotel with a complimentary muffin. Per usual, he filled the silence with his chatter until we found a store that fit Oliver’s needs. When I interrupted him and asked how we were traveling to Elora, he said the last thing I wanted to hear. Camping.
Last night, I slept on a soft, warm mattress with a thick, cozy comforter. Now, we’d have to suffer with the hard ground. The metal table was enough. Not to mention, my legs weren’t in hiking shape. They were twigs awaiting a gentle breeze to snap them in two.
My glare followed him to a superstore called Everything You Could Want & More.
“Think they’d have your memories?” Oliver laughed as we walked through the sliding doors.
Tiny feet skittered up and down my arms, begging me to scratch as I fused my drilling gaze to Oliver’s cheek. Oblivious, he took a cart and led me to the area labeled hiking clothes. “Go grab something…” Hegrimaced, scanning me up and down. “I’ll get the rest of our supplies.”
“Fantastic,” I mumbled.
I perused racks of tops and bottoms, letting my fingers glide over the fabrics until a dark floral pattern caught my attention. The joggers were thick but stretchy, promising warmth without restricting movement. With the joggers, a green long-sleeve, and a black coat in hand, I headed to the dressing room, snagging a pair of hiking boots on the way. After changing and yanking the tags off, I went to find Oliver. He changed into navy khaki pants and a green quarter-zip sweater.
Oliver surveyed my new outfit. “I like it.” He paused. “You’re definitely aging before my eyes.”
