Page 30 of The Demon's Fire
Before his opponent recovered, Ohngel lobbed off his left arm. It was only sporting to leave him an uninjured limb with a blade in hand.
Basil took off in a burst of speed, blood spurting from the open wound below his shoulder.
“Why do they always think they can outfly me?” Ohngel tucked his head to follow, leaving a fiery trail across the sky. When he caught up, he maneuvered a forward overhead roll to block Basil’s path.
Basil pulled up hard. His brows squeezed tight together and his eyes glassed over when he saw Ohngel’s wings curl forward, the searing blue tips ready to strike once more. He realized he would not escape. But he refused to surrender. He fought until his blade arm grew weary and his knifed feathers drooped.
Ohngel, on the other hand, had almost limitless stamina. With ease, he avoided the cutting edges of his tired opponent’s wings, countering the attacks with slice after shallow slice, humiliating and further exhausting his opponent. Growing bored with the pursuit, Ohngel lobbed off Basil’s left wing.
Rolling head over heels despite a frantic beating of his uninjured wing, Basil plunged toward the earth, his flight ugly, barely adequate to keep him aloft.
Ohngel rushed to follow his prey. “Surrender now. If I sever the other, you will suffer pain unlike any other when your wingless body meets the ground.”
“Fuck off, assassin.”
“I intend to. After I take you to Angor.” With Basil’s flight like a wounded, wobbling bird, Ohngel caught up and cut off his opponent’s other wing. Whipping out a net from a pouch at his hip, he ensnared his prey. “You’ll hate me in the morning, but trust me, this makes you easier to carry.”
Ohngel streaked across the sky with his bound package, slowing only when he approached Angor. After depositing Basil in a facility where he would receive a modicum of care for his wounds before an eternity of pain, Ohngel flew home.
Though an oddity, the winged hunters of the OneCreator chose to live in Angor among those they had imprisoned rather than with their own kind in the Vast. Here in these territories, they thrived in the unpredictable environment. One moment sun, soft breezes. The next stormy skies and intermittent light, a place cold, icy, stark, and often as cruel as those it contained. But it was always honest, always just.
Once in the familiarity of his abode with a cup of mead in hand, Ohngel lounged on pillows, music playing to muffle the tormented cries from the tortured in Angor.
He crossed an ankle over the other as he devised new strategies. Ones to negate Niviane’s betrayal.
When Jace closed the book, Celene was snuggled into the couch, her feet propped on the coffee table, milk still soaking her knees. “Very uncheerful. You want to flip for who cleans the kitchen?”
****
Skylerinched to the edge of the carved chair. She was missing something. “Thank you, Horach, but I can feed myself.” Her gaze shot back and forth between the commander and his uncle. When her attention settled on Kole, his hands moved to the hilt of a knife in the sheath across his chest.
“You choose to feed yourself when such a worthy victor will provide the service? I don’t understand?” Apparently, her behavior was puzzling, if Horach’s tugged down brows were an indication.
Skyler twisted toward the commander, her lips barely moving, her voice for his ears only. “What’s going on?”
Kole leaned close, maintaining a grim expression, shaking his head to signal he would speak.
“Chief Legal Officer Maxwell appreciates Dermott’s offer. Though she was thrilled to watch the Genesis Rite, her role was ceremonial. Since I am her guide for three days, I feed her. Earthling females generally accept only one male at a time. Since I’m her escort, I’m convenient.”
“Bullshit.” Dermott pushed against Horach’s back.
Kole’s uncle pivoted around, shoving chest to chest against the angry envy demon.
When Dermott continued to power forward, Kole snarled, his voice threatening, gravelly. “This female will not be yours tonight.”
Over Horach’s shoulder, Dermott raised his bloody axe in challenge. “I have rights as victor.”
Kole withdrew a blade, moving to block Skyler from view with his massive body. He spread his thighs, distributing his weight equally. “Come any closer, demon, I’ll cut off your balls and stuff them up your ass.”
Skyler rose from her chair, tilting far to the side to see around the commander. Whatever the problem, and she was developing a guess, the argument was accelerating, about to go explosive.
The large crowd who stayed to watch shouted in support of Dermott.
“Quiet!” Horach yelled out the command as he squared off in front of the envy demon. “Don’t be an idiot. My nephew will kill you. The female will settle the matter.”
Skyler rested a palm on Kole’s shoulder, peeking around him.
Dermott inhaled, puffing out his chest but lowering the axe. “Of course. It is her choice. The traitor or me.”
