I snapped his neck, red filling what little vision I had. The remaining skin on my fingers tingled, as if most of the nerves were dead.
He slumped in his chair, then toppled lifeless to the ground. A knife slipped free of his pocket, and I soundlessly laughed. What fools. That wasn’t how you stored a knife. I bent down, violent glee blocking out the pain of movement, and swiped it up.
Footsteps tumbled down stone stairs behind me. “What in the four gods is going?—”
I whirled, catching sight of Tomes. The fucking weasel who tossed buckets of saltwater on me. He paled, clutching at the banister.
“You—you aren’t supposed to?—”
I smiled, not caring how much it hurt to do so. “Surprise, ground-crawler.” I threw the knife.
Tome gasped, glancing down. His eyes widened in shock to see the hilt of a knife sprouting from his chest. His black suit darkened further. He sagged, grabbing with both hands at the banister. “No, it’s not supposed to—no,” he garbled. His knees buckled and he rolled to the flagstone floor.
I stared down at him as he blinked, trying to make sense during the blood loss. Pulling the knife free, I watched as blood gushed from the open wound. “I warned you,” I rasped.
The life in his eyes flickered, then died.
I stalked past him, trailing molting feathers in my wake. My wings dragged up the stairs. I didn’t have the strength to fold them against my back. The stairs went up and up and up. I felt every sharp stone, every catch in the tread as my feathers tore from me.
The pain grew, blotting out the edges of my vision and making my hands tremble. I welcomed the fiery torment. Let it guide me, direct my focus. My footprints left blood and ayim behind.
I might not have magic, I might not wield magic, I might be the son of farmers. But I was Castiel, third in our sedge, warrior, survivor of the Fall, and I let my brown wings spread as widely as they could. I was Castiel, and Lilith was mine to protect.
Need sunlight, my body screamed at me. But I wasn’t headed for sunlight. I was headed for the elders and Lilith. Healing could wait.
Up the stairs I went, until at last I reached a door. Hurling it open, I stalked through into the corridor near Grimshaw’s study.
I bared my teeth. Perfect.
Not bothering to hide my approach, I let my footfalls be their only warning. Several feathers caught in a crack along the floor and I wrenched my wing free, uncaring of further damage. I found the room that smelled of ego and greed and sounded of men’s voices, and kicked the door down.
My leg screamed in protest at the sudden movement, tendons crackling, but I dragged myself into the room.
Sunlight streamed through the one small window, and my heart, which had been pounding in my ears, suddenly was able to get the ayim pumping through my body again. A weight lifted off my chest.
Nelson, Dalton, and White sat around the table, arguing. They stared up at me, mouths falling open as I loomed over them.
“Your time is over.” The words scoured my throat and made my tongue throb.
White and Dalton stood. “We didn’t know! We weren’t told until later?—”
“But you knew and didn’t stop it.” I forced the words out of my mouth despite it feeling like vomiting sandpaper. “The way you rule this neighborhood. The way you treat Lilith. It ends today.”
White bolted for the door, but I was faster. Already I felt renewed vigor seeping into my muscles.
I sliced his throat, watching as a ribbon of blood appeared and then poured down his neck.
His eyes widened and he choked, grabbing at his neck to hold the torn flaps of skin together. White opened his mouth as if to shout for help, but no sound emerged.
I grinned. Now he knew what it felt like.
Dalton cowered in a corner, raising his hands. “Please! I have a wife. Children.”
But I had watched the way his eyes roved over Lilith’s body, the way he dismissed anyone around him he deemed unworthy of his attention, and the way he twisted his god’s precepts to fit his whims.
I rounded the table and cut his throat, like the other elder. Blood hit the floor, covering the mildewed planks and overlaying the stench of decay with bright, salty iron.
Then I turned to Elder Nelson.
