The car took off, wheels kicking up rocks, dirt and debris. Ian flapped his wings faster and his feet left the ground. He landed on the trunk and scrambled up onto the roof as the driver swerved back and forth, trying to dislodge him.
The wind’s pull on his wings made it harder to maintain his position, so he folded them against his back without releasing the manifestation. Lying down on his stomach, he reached down and tried the driver’s door handle. Not surprisingly, the door was locked, so Ian made a tight fist and punched through the window.
Pain burst in his hand and shot up his arm, but he maintained focus. He couldn’t reach the lock release, so he grabbed the driver’s hair and slammed his head forward. The car jerked violently to the right and Ian opened his wings, moving his arm out of the way as the car plowed into the ditch.
The driver moaned, pressing his hand over his nose. Blood poured out between his fingers and from under his palm.
On the ground now, Ian reached in through the broken window and triggered the lock release. The locks snapped open and Ian jerked the door out of his way.
Holding up his free hand to ward Ian off, the driver rested his head against the seatback and muttered a curse in Italian.
Trepidation gripped Ian’s gut. Could this be Devon’s captor? She’d said his name was Robert or Roberto. “Who are you and what the fuck were you after just now?”
The driver stared straight ahead, ignoring Ian’s questions.
Ian slapped the car’s roof with his open palm and the driver started. “Who are you?”
“I am not my own.” He covered his nose with his left hand and reached for something on the passenger’s seat.
“Hands where I can see them!” Ian leapt out of the driver’s range of view, waiting for him to comply.
“I serve Zophiel.”
Before Ian could make sense of the odd declaration, the driver raised the gun in his right hand, pressed it against his temple and shot. Blood and gore sprayed into the air and splattered what remained of the window.
Shocked and confused, Ian stared in paralyzed silence. Then understanding slammed into him and he spun on the ball of his foot, frantically unfurling his wings. A decoy! The only purpose for the attack had been to draw the men away from the house.
Terror clawed at his gut as he shot through the air. Not caring if anyone saw him and cursing himself for a fool, he rushed back toward Erin’s house. He kicked in the front door and bolted through the living room. “Devon!”
He dashed through the kitchen and flew down the basement stairs. Kyle sat on the floor with Erin’s head resting on his lap.
Panic nearly closed his throat. “Is she—”
“She’s fine. But the silver-haired bitch flew off with Devon. Payne and Holt went after them but…”
“But neither of them can fly.” Not allowing regret to slow him down, Ian focused on rescuing his mate. He ran back up the stairs and out the back door, unfurling his wings as soon as he cleared the threshold.
* * * * *
Devon watched her captor pace in front of her, torn between fascination and fear. If Ian hadn’t mentioned a silver-haired phantom, Devon would have wondered if this was real. Silver had been waiting in Erin’s basement, obviously anticipating their escape route. She’d incapacitated Erin with one well-placed blow then grabbed Devon by the hair and dragged her back upstairs. She’d whispered a chant that made Devon dizzy and lethargic. Devon hadn’t lost consciousness, but she’d been too disoriented to struggle as Silver lifted her like a child and flew away from Erin’s house.
Silver’s wings weren’t visible now, but that didn’t distract from her angelic beauty. She was easily the most alluring creature Devon had ever seen. Confined in a thick braid, her pale hair reached her slender hips. She wore tight black jeans and a dove-gray tunic which made her appear ready for a shopping spree rather than a kidnapping.
“Take off your shoes and socks,” the woman instructed Devon.
“Who are you? Why am I here?” She looked around, fighting vertigo as she moved her head. They were in a large barn or small warehouse. Whatever the original purpose had been, it had obviously been a long time since the structure was used. Moonlight penetrated gaps in the roof and sections of the walls were missing. The interior smelled stale and musty. They hadn’t been in the air very long, but Ian was the only one who could follow. And he’d fallen for Silver’s distraction.
Silver grabbed Devon’s face and leaned in. “I don’t like repeating myself. Take off your shoes.”
Devon jerked her head, dislodging Silver’s hand. Then she went down on one knee and removed her shoes and socks. The concrete floor felt cool and rough beneath her feet. “What do you want from me?”