Page 4 of Angel's Vengeance
She swallowed back the acrid taste of desperation that threatened to clog her throat.She’d made it too damn far only to be dragged back like some pet who had absentmindedly wandered off when trying to find a spot to relieve itself.
She was no pet, not anymore, but if she didn’t find a way out of this, the cage she knew all too well was exactly where she’d end up.Again.
Neela dug deep to find the voice she’d carefully honed in private.The one fueled by rage, indignation, and the possibilities of a world she’d only ever been allowed to peek through the window at.The voice she imagined a stronger version of herself using time and time again as naturally as a bird would use its song to greet each new day.
Or maybe a raptor.
Before she could heft that voice high and scream its release, a thunderous cry stopped her heart and stole her breath.
Then the first gun went off.
A strange web jettisoned and twisted through the night air before smacking her in the face.It took her all of half a second to realize the cage that had landed on her.A trapper’s net.
One-inch mesh pulled against her skin, wrapping her body in a tightly coiled prison.Neela flailed and screamed like any animal would and tried to kick out of it, but she only succeeded in hitting the ground that much faster.Another pop rang out, then the weight surrounding her doubled as a second net anchored her more fully to the blacktop.Her legs were caught under her, and she roared out in pain when she twisted harshly and her knees crunched against the frozen asphalt.Wetness obscured what little she could see through the holes in the cargo net, but she managed to make out yet another goddamn funnel pointed toward her.
A third net.A surefire capture.
Then that strong voice inside her soul had gone silent with the cold stillness of a death row inmate the second after the injection had been administered.With nothing left to fight with, she closed her eyes and tucked herself as tightly as she could before the launcher was fired and the net imprisoned her for good.
I can’t go back.I just can’t.
The gun went off, and she braced for the impact, but something entirely different assaulted her instead.A roar.No, a bellow.One she thought she’d heard bouncing off the parking lot right before the nets took her to the ground.
Only when her muscles could no longer take the strain of the tension did she crack an eyelid and nose around until she found a clear opening through the net.Her brain almost shorted out as it struggled to make sense of what her eyes were tracking.
“What the ...?”
Wings.Two silvery-white wings blurred beneath the moonlight and shredded the approaching net in midair like a falcon diving for its prey.Then the blurs turned into a strange duel of sorts, or maybe a dance.One commanded by something—a creature?—that slashed and spun around the netting, until bits of nylon confetti fell from the sky, peppering Neela’s hair and blanketing the rest of her.Neela clenched her teeth and managed to reposition herself to take in more of what was happening, but that only led to more questions.
The wings were attached to aman—a man carved in brutal shadows who hovered above the ground and held two sickle-like weapons.A man with a face so calm and silently ruthless that it made her grateful for the netted barrier between them.
A chilly awareness speared through her gut.
The others who had scrambled from the tree line were running toward them at full force, unsheathing weapons, but the winged man paid them no mind.Did the dude not hear them, or was he too focused on ratatouille-ing the net?God, he was like some gladiator who was so focused on carving his name in the sand that he had zero time or interest in the lion about to rip his head off.Though, to be fair, if she had his power—or any power, for that matter—she couldn’t say she’d feel any different.
Neela squeezed her eyes and shook off the fantasy of what-ifs.They’d never done anything for her, and they sure as hell weren’t about to here.
Instead of swinging his attention to the three running for him, however, the winged man dove toward the three armed attackers closest to her and hooked the muzzles of two guns into the nook of his unusual weapons.With barely a tug from him, the firearms were sliced in half, while the third gun met a similar fate before the flying man’s boots had even touched the ground.
Heavy grunts grew louder behind her.
“Look out!There are more coming!”she cried, still trying to free herself, but the mesh was so heavy and her limbs were pinned at such harsh angles, it was like trying to shrug out of a coffin.
The man ignored her, and as he continued to fight, it made sense why.Short of a nuclear bomb, Neela didn’t think there was anything that could distract him.She’d even bet her latest morning glory night blooms that pediatric neurosurgeons had less focus than he did.His combat movements on the ground were a seamless extension of what he wrought in the air.Though Neela never thought such a concept would make sense, there was a definite beauty to his brutality, so much so that she couldn’t look away even if she wanted to.He may have been outnumbered, but his size and strength alone were unmatched.His arms whirled around in seasoned swipes, but never in the same direction.He was too fast, too efficient for his opponents to pick up on his routines.When one kicked right, he would duck and arc left, slicing through highly open and way-too-vulnerable ribs.The contact and gruesome sounds would have made her cringe if there’d been enough space beneath the net to do so.
Trapped and alone, she could only lie there and watch as the winged man swirled in and out of shadows, hacking away at the others like a machete-wielding survivor in the rainforest trying to reach the one and only helicopter back to civilization.
She should have been grateful.Shewasgrateful, but something about the man sparked an entirely different set of warning bells to start jingling.
Behind her, the others’ approaches grew louder, and her heart kicked into her throat.Then she remembered her position, just who was chasing her, and why.
Shit.She needed to get the hell out of there.Fast.
She tried twisting in her bonds when an arc of blue flames flew across the parking lot and pierced the forehead of the small triad’s leader.Electric fire kindled upon impact, then quickly churned across the rest of the flesh, devouring all that healthy muscle and tissue like cancer.He fell flat on his back and, with arms and legs flailing and cries being choked off by flames, dissolved into a pile of ash before her eyes.
Fear clogged her throat, paralyzing her.“Holy?—”
Three sets of boots touched down in the parking lot.Boots belonging to men with, yup, more metallic wings.Wings and flaming-blue weapons.