She did not enjoy flying with Cael, Lia thought, her grip tightening around his neck. She was not entirely sure why because flying itself was not unpleasant.
It felt almost natural to ride the winds, shifting her weight into the current, and if she closed her eyes, it was almost as if she had wings herself.
Which meant, she decided, that it was not the flying she disliked, but flying specifically with Cael.
She looked up at him trying to puzzle out why.
He grinned at her brightly and held her closer against him.
“Almost there.”
He shifted on the wind, coasting towards the earth, the ground seeming to rise towards them in welcome.
They landed outside a tidy little farmhouse, its green lawn behind a white picket fence, and its boards painted white and a soft yellow.
She released him and stepped away, glad to end the contact, but looked around her in bewilderment. It felt as if she had never been there before.
“Where are we?”
“Home sweet home,” he announced leading the way up the steps to the front porch.
There was a swinging chair beside the door, idling in the breeze. It was very pretty, the fields green, and chickens picking their way lazily across the lawn, but she did not know it and wondered why she did not, if it were truly home.
He opened the door, and they entered the hallway. There were jackets hung on the hall stand that she did not think would fit either of them, and the photos on the walls held the faces of strangers.
This was not home, she thought. Home was… She had a flash of dated wallpaper and china dolls, and an ancient book sitting in the fall of light colored by a stained-glass window.
“This isn’t home.”
Cael paused, and then shrugged. “Maybe not, but it is home for now. We’ll be happy here.”
“Where are the people from these photos?” She wondered.
“I encouraged them to go away for a time, don’t worry, they’re fine.” He took her hand and tugged her towards the stairs. “They changed the bed sheets before they left,” he said, pulling her up behind him. “I think it’s time that we answered a question that has been preoccupying me since I found you again.”
“What question?” There had been children here, she observed as they passed by bedrooms painted in pastel tones and small beds holding soft toys. Where were they now?
“Whether f-king you will end this tie between us,” he stepped into a bedroom.
Her feet dragged to a stop. She did not want to go in there with him. Her skin crawled at the very idea of laying on that bed with him. “This is… wrong.”
“No,” he gave her hand a tug pulling her across the threshold. “No, it’s exactly as it should be.”
He framed her face with his hands and kissed her, his tongue stroking against her lips. She held them closed against him. She knew that kissing him was not safe, but she was not sure why.
“Cecelia,” he pulled back, irritated by her refusal to kiss him back. “F-k you always have to be so difficult.”
He kissed her again, his mouth against hers hard, determined, biting her bottom lip between his teeth in petty retaliation for her obstinacy. She yelped, power sparking between them as she pulled back from him.
“F-k!” He exclaimed in pain, releasing her.
She put her fingers to her mouth, and they came away bloody. She could taste it. She knew that taste. She had a flash of Lucian above her, the taste of his blood in her mouth.
Raiden. She needed to get back to Raiden. She remembered her werewolf, bruised and exhausted, holding her, the feel of his skin against hers and the scent of citrus and lavender.
“You put a f-king spell on me,” she accused Cael angrily. “I need to get back to Raiden,” she turned on her heel and started toward the hall, but Cael caught her wrist and yanked her back.
“I don’t know how you do that, when it’s absolutely impossible that you have the power to do so! But there’s an easy way to do this,” he snarled tugging her back to him and transferring his grip to her elbows. “And a hard way.” He lifted and threw her onto the bed.
The landing forced the air from her lungs, and he was over her before she could recover. She threw her power between them again, and he cringed away from the flash, cursing as he rolled from her.
She half fell from the bed and ran for the door frame, narrowly avoiding his grasping fingers. She hit the banisters with enough force that for a moment, she thought she would go over, but she regained her balance and made for the top step. Cael struck the bedroom door frame with his shoulder in his effort to reach her and cursed in pain.
She made it half-way down the stairs, when she heard the front door hit the wall, and caught the glimpse of a man entering the hall below through the banisters, his dark eyes meeting hers. She recognized him as one of the men who had attacked her out front of the academy.
She turned, to find Cael at the top of the stairs.
“Lia!” Cael called out, holding out his hand, his expression becoming alarmed as he caught sight of the dark eyed man. “Quickly!”
Lia turned back, trapped between two unpleasant options.
The dark eyed man was not on his own, and the woman and other man were behind him. The dark eyed man paused on the first turn of the stairs looking up at her and Cael.
“Hello again,” he said.
There was a flash outside the porch, drawing all their eyes, and suddenly Raiden was in the open front door, his eyes following the three intruders to her, and Cael beyond her, his expression shifting from confusion, to alarm and fury.
Lia did not think twice, she leapt onto the handrail, sliding down on her hip, throwing herself at Raiden and trusting that he would catch her.
He turned with the motion, stepping out of the door, and set her behind him as the Other flashed in his eyes and he turned back to the three intruders. “I don’t know who the f-k you are,” he snarled at them. “But get the f-k out of here and I won’t have to kill you.”
The dark eyed man stepped down the stairs, his hands held out before him placatingly. “Wolf, this has nothing to do with you,” he glanced over his shoulder at Cael who was stalking his way down the stairs. “Or you, brother.”
“I’m not your brother,” Cael replied with relish. “It seems to me that you have gotten yourself caught between a wolf and a devil.”
“Don’t forget us,” Alatar protested stepping up on to the porch with Tara. “Hi.”
“Two wolves, a warlock and our feathered friend back there,” Raiden arched an eyebrow. “Odds are in our favor.”
“You have no idea,” the dark eyed man replied through his teeth, enraged. “No idea what we are, nor what she is, and no idea what is at risk.”
“She’s Evelyn’s last living heir, a child born to a Wingless angel,” Alatar replied smugly. “Yeah, we worked it out,” he added when the three intruders jerked their eyes to him.
“Wingless,” Cael murmured, his toned appalled. “You’re all three Wingless. How the f-k did you survive? No one survives.”
The woman jerked her head back to him and bared her teeth. “Painfully.”
“Why are you hunting Lia?” Raiden demanded. “If you’re the same as she is?”
“We’re not the same,” the man replied with revulsion. “We’re pure, not mixed with slave blood.”
“You were right. They have been hunting Evelyn’s descendants.” Raiden looked at Alatar. “That’s why the line dwindled so unexpected.”
“See, man,” the warlock murmured. “I guessed it.”