Broken Wings (An Angel Eyes Novel)(42)

"Donut, Jake?" Bob yells.

"Not today, gents."

Canaan turns down a side street, his pace quickening as they enter the thin alley backing the stores on Main. Jake pumps his legs harder as they pass the rear of Jelly's. He hops a stack of flattened cardboard boxes and clips his knee on a discarded street sign. And that's when Canaan skids to a stop. The rubber tears free of the toe on Jake's right Chuck as he slides through the dry dust on the alley floor, but he manages to stop just short of Canaan's left shoulder, coughing with exertion.

Pearla stands before him in her human form, her dark face ashen. He catches only one word. "Transfer."

Jake doesn't have time to steel himself before he's wrapped in Canaan's wings and lifted into the sky. He sees Jelly's, its neon lights strangely magnified in the Celestial. The enormous grape jelly jar is there, a smear of violet against a backdrop of orange marmalade. Canaan continues toward the diner, toward the very end of Main Street. From there it's just a short flight up the highway to Brielle's.

Below Jake the Photo Depot, The Donut Factory, Miss Macy's, the community center-they all glow bright, a variety of occupants within shading the skies with various hues. To his right, beyond the community center, the small church is nestled in a rainbow of color.

He loves the sight of Stratus lit up with God's glory, but the anxiety eating away at his gut leaves little room for adoration. Especially when a blotch of darkness skates across his line of sight.

His heart redoubles its efforts, but a second glance shows him a familiar face.

Pearla.

Her wings are fast. Faster even than Helene's.

She tucks them close and falls away, her voice ringing in Jake's head.

"Behind you."

Jake's stomach is in his mouth as they tumble after her. Canaan collapses his large outer wings, covering Jake's body and erasing the world from sight. His stomach tells him they're cartwheeling through the sky, but he sees the underside of Canaan's wings. Nothing more.

And then with a jolt that vibrates through his bones, Canaan's outer wings slam open to reveal a set of snapping fangs. Jake tries to backpedal, but he's immovable against Canaan's chest. Fangs flash and talons reach, but before they can find purchase, Jake is lifted up and away as Canaan soars over the demon's head.

The demon turns, but he's not nearly fast enough. With a flash of white light, Canaan draws his sword and drags it down the demon, separating the fallen one in two.

Ash fills the air as the demon is reduced to sparking embers.

Canaan turns toward Jelly's once again.

Hang on, Elle, Jake thinks. We're almost there.

But the thought shatters like a tray of dropped ice. The roof of Jelly's is graced with two demons, their scimitars drawn and smoking in the hot celestial air. The larger of the two has a hand clamped around the neon tubing of the jelly jar. The other hunches below on the roof, his wings hanging at his sides, black and tattered. Canaan doesn't slow, and Jake presses against him, nearly climbing up his chest to be free of danger. Scripture leaps from his tongue.

"He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge; His faithfulness will be your shield."

The two demons lunge at once, and Canaan swipes in a wide arc. His sword catches the wing joint of the smaller demon, and he spins, trying to regain control. The larger one loses half a leg. Sulfur spews into the atmosphere, stinging Jake's nostrils and sending tears streaming down his cheeks.

Both demons mount a second attack. The one with the broken wing is gimpy, flying lopsided and angry, but he presses closer as Canaan focuses on his companion. Jake's hands ball into fists and he prays harder.

A black smear speeds into his vision.

Pearla!

But she's so small. No weapon. Two delicate wings.

What is she doing?

She dives between the demons and Canaan. Her presence seems to confuse the Fallen, and they pull up.

They think she's one of theirs!

The larger of the two tilts his head, ape-like, and lowers his sword. It's just a momentary lapse, but it's all the time Canaan needs. He shoots forward, grabbing the demon's lowered scimitar in his left hand and shoving it upward. With his right hand, Canaan swings his own sword wide. Simultaneously, the demons are sliced through-one through the chest, the smaller one losing his head. Their forms hiss and smoke, but Canaan's past them already, leaving Jelly's and Main Street behind.                       
       
           



       39



Brielle





Damien's here, isn't he?" Kaylee is huddled behind me, her breath ragged. "He did that to your dad."

I nod. Afraid to do more than that. My fingers find the quilt on the couch, and I tug it toward me. It's still wet with the blood from Dad's head, but I find a clean corner and press it to his shoulder. He remains still. Deathly still.

My hands tremble.

"What do you want?" I whisper to the demon hanging over me.

I hate that my voice sounds subservient, hate that he's reduced me to that. I hate his voice in my head and the simple answer he gives me.

"I want you. I want Jake."

His chest is slick with fear. I've never noticed how thick it is on him. Is everything he does motivated by it?

I look at my dad's face, white and clammy, hear Kaylee's stifled cries, and I wonder what Damien sees when he looks at me. I wonder if the fear is just as thick on my skin as it is on his.

I'm afraid, but my soul is safe.

"I don't know where Jake is," I say. "But take me. Leave my dad and Kaylee. Leave them alone and take me."

For a second I think he considers the option. Am I worth that much? And is this how I die? Maybe that's why the ring disappeared from the chest. Maybe I won't be alive to wear it.

But then his wings snap, all irritation and resolve.

"It may come to that, but not yet."

"Not ever."

I spin toward the kitchen, and there he stands.

Canaan, in all his celestial glory. Jake is there too, his face anxious, fear like pinpricks along his arms and neck.

"Elle?" Kaylee's voice reminds me that she can't see any of this. That her emotions are surfing on every move of my head, on every twitch of my face.

"It's okay," I tell her. "Canaan's here. And Jake."

She turns toward the kitchen, to the spot I stare at hungrily.

"I can't . . . can't see them."

"I know, but I can."

Jake presses against Canaan's inner wings, his eyes as hot as ever, and I can't help thinking of the first time I saw him. Of the chill that held me captive the day I caught him staring at me through Miss Macy's window.

"Keith's hurt, Canaan," Jake says.

Canaan draws his sword. Behind me, Damien rises to his full height, the talons on his feet digging into the arms of Dad's chair. He draws his own sword. And then something I really should have anticipated: he grabs the back of my shirt and lifts me into the chair before him. His massive arm circles my waist, and I feel the fear creep from his arms to my stomach. It burrows inside, turning my gut into a lake of frozen ice.

"Elle . . ." Kaylee's sobbing now, shaking and staring at me. "Elle."

From behind Canaan, a ball of frenetic black energy appears. Another demon? But no, her eyes shine bright and pure. It's an angel! A very small, very dark angel. Silky wings propel her forward, and she lands on Damien's chest. Her wings flap hard and fast, and I'm reminded of the time I came face-to-face with a confused bat while rock climbing.

She seems to have the same effect on Damien. He releases my waist, his hands flying high to fight the onslaught. The flat edge of his sword connects with her abdomen, and he swats her away. But it's too late; I've tumbled to the floor now. I land on Dad's shins and quickly push away, crawling as fast as humanly possible. I grab Kaylee's hand and drag her with me behind Canaan's legs, where we huddle beneath his outer wings.

Canaan's mind speaks to Damien's. "Your sight has been restored."

"By the Prince himself." Damien lifts his chin, puffs out his broad chest, but Canaan's face shows only sorrow.

"The Prince's hands no longer possess a healing that can last, old friend. I do hope you know that."

Damien's face contorts, and he lunges. And then I feel the hot wind of the Celestial blowing against my back. In one swift motion, Canaan pushes off from the ground and swats at Damien with his sword. Damien blocks the blow, but it takes the strength of both his hands to hold his blade steady. He shoves back, but Canaan seems to be the stronger of the two. Canaan realizes this too and opens his inner wings, releasing Jake. He tumbles to the ground next to me, sending Kaylee into a fit of startled shrieks.

But her voice is quickly drowned out by the sound tearing from Damien's lips. Like a hawk going in for the kill, he cries out, his eyes on me. I want to hide, but I can't look away. Canaan smacks him in the face with the hilt of his sword, and Damien's cry turns brutal. His wings pull him backward, putting distance between the two of them. He lifts his scimitar high and then . . .

And then they disappear from sight.

My chest rises and falls, my eyes open and shut, again and again. But they're gone. The Celestial is gone. I'm both relieved and terrified.

Jake moves away, toward Dad. He removes the quilt that hangs like a veil over Dad's face. He doesn't hesitate, doesn't pause to consider the consequences, he just presses both hands to the wound. I crawl on my hands and knees until I'm next to him. Dad looks . . . well, he looks awful. His hair is matted to his head, a dirty mess of sweat and blood. I push a clumpy strand out of his eyes.