Page 32 of Wings of Lies
What the heavenly hell?
Confused and most likely a masochist, I reached back. My fingers sank into a hole in my shirt and brushed a bandaged area. I yelped, pulling back.What happened?
The last thing I remembered was Oliver lying concussed next to a tree. He could barely move. But he had to have put up this shelter.
Where was he?
I cringed as I stood. The half-zipped doors flapped in a breeze. I unzipped the rest, opening my mouth to call out for Oliver when I heard a soft snore.
He rested inches to my left, against the closest tree, covered in mud. Crusted drool lined the corner of his half-open mouth. The wheezing snores combined with his haphazard appearance eased the tension in my shoulders. Tension I didn’t know I was holding.
But we were both alive—dirty, exhausted, and not entirely whole, but alive.
“Oliver.” I nudged his boot. His body wobbled. “Oliver,” I said louder, nudging harder—still nothing. Worry crept in, thinking about his concussion.
I sank to the ground and grabbed his shoulders, wincing at my sudden movements. “Oliver!”
“What?” he groaned.
I sat back on my heels. “You sleep like the dead.”
He opened his eyes, head still resting against his shoulder. “That’s because I feel dead.”
“What happened?”
He nodded at my injury. “You got hit by lightning.”
“How?”How was I alive? How’d we escape?
“How’d you get hit by lightning? You never actually hid. How’d we get here? I scared them away and lugged your dead weight to this beautiful clearing. Hence the mud,” Oliver supplied.
I frowned. Dried blood surrounded the gash on his forehead. There was no way he scared them away. He couldn’t even stand.
“How am I not dead?”
“You’re not human, Lucy. Or at least not fully human. Like most of us with angel blood, you heal fast and have tougher flesh.” He stretched out his body unconcerned, then scowled. “But carrying your limp body all the way here with two backpacks full of gear is something I never want to do again. So please refrain from getting knocked out next time. Or at least have someone else with you when you refuse to listen to instructions.”
I rolled my eyes. I’d try my best. But his story still didn’t make sense.
“How’d you do it?” They had us.
A mischievous grin lit his face as he waggled his eyebrows. “You’re not the only one with unique powers.”
“What are they?” Now, I was beyond curious.
He shrugged and stood. “Maybe you’ll find out one day.”
“Do you feel murdery when you use them?”
“Uh…” He looked at me strangely. “Sometimes afterwards.”
Okay, so maybe I was a Nephilim.
“What can you do?”
“Nope. Not telling.” Then, very maturely, he zipped up his lips and threw away the key.
“Why not? Come on!”
