Page 87 of Forging Darkness
My fingers just make contact with a hand when something latches onto my ankle, and tugs.
Shoving the child forward, I gulp in air right before I sink below the surface for the second time. One of my weapons swam away in the eye socket of the last creature that attacked me, but I’m not defenseless. And so close to relative safety, I have a renewed sense of survival.
I have a blurred view of a jaw clamped onto my ankle. The end of the eel-thing lashes as it tries to pull me deeper.
I only just keep myself from sucking in another mouthful of water when a second water serpent sinks its teeth into my shoulder, my leather coat the only buffer between my flesh and its jaw.
Fear walks the razor’s edge, threatening to trip back into panic at any moment, but if I let that happen, I’m dead. I’m not going down this way.
Not bothering to reach for another one of my stashed weapons, I grab the creature attached to my shoulder and rip it off me with my bare hands as I slice my wings down. The sharp tips of my feathers shred the eel attached to my foot. I use both hands to crack the lower jaw off the other water serpent before releasing it. Black blood blooms in the water as I kick to the surface. When I break through, I’m hauled out of the water. Crawling as far away from the edge as possible, I drop into a wet, bloody heap.
The child shivers against the wall only a few feet from me. She’s soaked, but breathing and seemingly free of injury, so I’m going to call this a win.
A clap sounds, and I search for whoever is stupid enough to make more noise. My gaze snags on a figure standing tall behind me.
“You didn’t think it was going to be that easy, did you?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The humans scatter as I stagger to my feet and face the female Fallen. She’s at least a half-foot taller than me, and blocking the only exit in the room with a pair of onyx wings. Hair cascades to her waist in a sheet of liquid silver that shimmers when she cocks her head and runs a narrow-eyed assessment over me. She doesn’t seem impressed, but I’m too thrown off by her presence and exhausted from the ordeal in the water to really care.
People sprint down the tunnel along the narrow ledge that runs in both directions, most likely figuring their chances of survival are better in the underground labyrinth than making a stand against a Fallen. They might be right.
A small group of humans remains huddled on the other side of her, including the young man who saved me. He stands as if protecting the small bunch. The little girl’s mother is crouched behind him, her wide eyes trained on her daughter.
Water pulls at my clothes. A puddle forms at my feet as I use the wall to steady myself.
“Let us go,” Andre demands. “You can’t keep us here like this. We’re not livestock, we’re human beings.” His hands are fisted at his side and shake from nerves or anger, I’m not sure which.
The Fallen angles her head in his direction, her red gaze detaching from me to land on him. He flinches but holds his ground.
The Fallen’s skin is pale gray with a pearlescent sheen. Despite her fair complexion and light clothing, darkness drips from her, pooling as shadows on the ground.
This is not a normal Fallen.
My stomach bottoms out even as my limbs shake with fatigue.
“You’re right,” the female Fallen purrs as she takes a few measured steps toward him. Her boots click on the stones beneath her feet. The sharpened points of her silver-tipped nails scrape along the wall, creating sparks. I’d bet money they extend to claws. “You’re not livestock. You’re less valuable than that. At least livestock are mute.”
Andre’s face darkens to red, practically vibrating with righteous anger. When he opens his mouth, the Fallen lifts her arm, snapping her wrist in a whipping motion. A streak of fire shoots out from her closed fist and wraps around his neck. He doesn’t even have the chance to utter a word before she yanks her arm back, pulling the leash of flame taut.
His head separates from his shoulders and hits the ground with a hollow thud. Screams fill the chamber as his body crumples. His head rolls and falls into the sparkling water. There’s a flurry of dark movement underneath the surface as the creatures below devour it.
I press a hand to my belly.
Fallen can’t manipulate the elements because they were stripped of their specific angelic powers when they rebelled. Nephilim use this disparity to their advantage. But this Fallen just demonstrated exactly the kind of power she’s not supposed to have.
“You . . . killed him,” I whisper, the horror of the act plainly written across my face. My insides clench, and I keep the vomit from coming up through iron will alone.
Thorne was right about one thing: angels were created for violence. The Nephilim bred into the world for similar purposes. Humans can be vicious and cruel and house a great many evils, but even so . . .
I glance behind me. Only four people remain, including the small child who is openly crying. Turning, I find the child’s mother on the other side of the Fallen. Her terror-filled gaze bounces between her daughter and the place where the man’s head disappeared.
Just because someone isn’t as strong as you doesn’t mean they are your prey.
“Not as smart as I was told, it seems. Pity. But that’s not the only lie my son told me about you.” The Fallen places a hand on her hip. Her silver off-the-shoulder sweater and white leggings seem out of place on such a vicious creature. There’s not a drop of blood on her despite the savage death she just caused.
“Son?”