Not the worst problem …
Definitely, the best one I could have chosen …
It’s pretty beneficial for me really …
Harshly, his boot kicks several times at the bottom of the dark, metal door, interrupting my ridiculous thoughts.
Seconds pass.
When it opens, a woman with smooth, beautiful features stares down at me. Dark chocolate eyes look to me with awe and her full lips part without sound.
Her long ebony hair hangs in thin, sleek braids around her beautiful face. Just barely I catch the delicate tips of her pointed ears.
When she speaks, nothing but confusion swirls through me.
“Where the hell did you find an angel, Ryder?”
Chapter Two
The Healing Process
“Mesa, she needs your help.” Ryder tells the woman as he carries me inside. “The right wing’s just fucking destroyed and her leg’s really banged up.”
“Yeah, so is your leg.” She closes the door behind us as her attention lingers on Ryder’s tattered jeans.
Without asking, Ryder takes one hand and flings a mound of paperwork and glasses from a table. The glass shatters against the floor as the crinkled papers waft around us. He lowers me to the now spotless table. Pain floods me. I wince, keeping my eyes closed tightly.
Bright lights shine above. Through glimpses, I see a large kitchen sink, piled with shot glasses and a few white plates.
“Where the hell did you find an angel?” Mesa asks again, her wide eyes taking in every inch of me.
“I’m not an angel,” I say in a tense tone. Every move I make feels like fire is flooding my senses.
Her dark hair fans across her face as she nods. “I’ve seen an angel. You’re it, love. Visitors from the Realm of the Gods don’t come to our world. What the hell are you doing here in our realm? With him?” She throws Ryder a look that says he’s not worthy of my presence.
“I’m just a fae with wings.”
A small doubt-filled laugh hums through her.
“Fae don’t have wings; it’s no use lying, love.” Her arms fold across her petite frame as she studies me intently.
I glance to Ryder but he only stares at me, not adding to her statement.
Fae don’t have wings …
“Will you help me or not?” I breathe out in a shaking exhale as sweat clings to the back of my neck.
She nods to me and on stalking steps, she comes closer. Gentle fingers run through my thick black feathers.
“You really did a number on these.” She shakes her head at my careless treatment of my beautiful wings. “My magic won’t work inside the Iron Bar, but I have some strong remedies I’ve made up. Ryder can heal your wings more once the sun rises.” Her gaze lingers on the torn leather of my boot where the nix attacked me. “Unfortunately, the nix have poison in their veins. It’s a painful healing process, but a quick one.”
She glances down to the iron cuffs encircling Ryder’s wrists. With quick steps, she walks to a cabinet on the far wall. When the door opens, I see hundreds of small bottles corked and tagged with scrawling handwriting.
Her nimble fingers touch a few before picking up one in the back. She also grabs what appears to be a black razor blade. It holds my attention.
When she walks back to us, she hands Ryder the odd-looking blade. He begins running the edge of it across his cuffs and the metal against metal starts to melt the iron from his wrists. It’s similar to the one Tristan used on my cuffs in the mortal realm.
Her wide eyes never leave my wings as she begins pulling at the thin tree limbs that are embedded in my soft feathers.
