Page 111 of Cursed
His words seemed to come from a long way off. All I could concentrate on were the spaces between the dark spots in my vision.
Use the light, Phoebe. Call and it’ll answer,a far-off voice murmured in my head.
Knowing I only had a few seconds of consciousness, I opened my mouth and screamed words that didn’t make sense...yet they did.
My father had sung the foreign phrases under his breath when I’d been young and afraid of the dark, when he’d bundled me into his arms and stroked away my tears from a nightmare.
Bright light poured from my body and wrapped me in a glowing bubble.
Where it touched Malachi’s skin, a hiss of steam appeared.
He shouted a curse and stumbled backward, his wings flaring outward and lifting him into the air, horror morphing his face into a mask of anger and fear.
Lucian’s boredom seemed to break because his attention snapped to me. “What in damnation—” He shot to his feet, shoving the hairpin into his pocket as his obsidian eyes narrowed.
The wounds Malachi had inflicted into my shoulder no longer ached. As a matter of fact, I felt invincible. Above me, the gray, roiling clouds parted and shafts of golden light glowed where I stood. Their energy streamed into my body, into myblood.
A glorious sensation tumbled in my stomach, the feeling marvelous and joyful, sure and strong.
I straightened my fingers then clenched them into fists, needing to wield this new strength. But would it be in vain? Compared to the Fallen, my power would probably be the equivalent of a baby taking its first step. I needed to find a way out of this godforsaken place. I was no coward, but I also knew when it was prudent to live to fight another day.
Need to take advantage of their surprise, Phoebe.The soft voice in my head returned, and I nearly cried out with recognition.
“Dad?”How many times had I let his memory guide my moral dilemmas? Of course, it hadn’t really been him, but this felt different...stronger.
Close your eyes. Imagine standing on the side of the volcano.
Lucian approached, his mouth tight, those black eyes burning with inner fire.
Malachi hovered a few feet in the air, rubbing the tips of his fingers, wariness oozing from him in invisible waves.
Red-and-orange lava spewed from the mouth of the distant volcano, and a deep rumble pierced the quiet.
Ten seconds or less, and Lucian would be on me. I had no doubt he’d break through the shimmering shield of light I’d somehow created.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I imagined standing on the rocky side of the hungry volcano.I’d rather take my chances getting hit by a chunk of hot rock than whatever these two have in mind for me.
Wind whipped my hair against my chin as the sharp scent of sulfur and creosote invaded my nose. I opened my eyes and gasped.
Far away stood Lucian’s grotesque, obsidian castle.
I did it—I blinked just like them.A shout of relief wanted to burst out of me, but I reined it in. This wasn’t the time for a victory yell.
Black, glinting rock and sand supported my feet. To my right, the steeply sloped mountain side rose into the sky. Steam billowed from small cracks, lending a haze to the air.
My eyes watered from the horrible smell, but I forced the tears away and continued to survey my surroundings. Below, about twenty feet downward where the mountain met the level land, a few stunted, gnarled trees and bushes broke up the monotony of the rust-hued dirt and pale-gray rocks.
Realizing I probably stood out against the dark backdrop of the volcano, I crouched into a ball.
My shield continued to blaze around my body.I have no idea how to deactivate it.On second thought, it would probably be a terrible idea to let it down, even if I somehow managed to figure out how it worked.
“Gotta get the mountain between me and their line of sight.” I wasn’t sure if physically hiding really mattered since angels could blink and fly.
Who knew what else they could do? I was alone in this horrible reality with no hope of rescue.
Hopeless despair settled around my shoulders. This place, devoid of anything good or wholesome, would be my death.
I can’t give in to feeling sorry for myself. I’m still alive and not being tortured—that’s what matters.
