His hands clenched on his knees. Before he blurted his truth, which would see them both dead since she was forbidden to him, he rose. “Race, keep her.” The moment the Guardian helped Nia to her feet, Lore asked, “Did you take his powers?”
She rubbed the blood smears on her wrist, not meeting his eyes. Her brow furrowed a little, then she nodded.
It might not have been her intention, but it had rendered the Throne unconscious. Lore didn’t have to hunt him down. He grabbed the angel with one hand and strung him up to a black metal beam Lore had conjured, so no one could free him except Lore himself.
He turned and reached for Nia, but she shifted into Race, seeking his protection. The warrior banded his arm around her, setting Lore’s teeth on edge. “R-Race can take me back?—”
Jaw clenched, Lore scooped her into his arms, ignoring her feeble push to his chest. “I am taking you back.”
“I don’t want you?—”
“Then we will remain here.”
Her lips tightened.
Race merely cocked an eyebrow, didn’t intervene. “That’s a fairly civil punishment considering what he did,” he said instead, eyeing the strung-up angel. “I could flambé him. He’d be delicious crispy.”
“I am not done with him. Once Nia’s safe, I’ll be back.”
“I’m not going back to the abbey.”
“No, you’re not.” His gaze skimmed over her taut features. “It’s too dangerous. We’re going to Michael.”
“Well then, my job here is done.” Hands on his hips, Race angled his head, studying the angel. “But I might just stay a while and entertain myself with this bozo.”
“Don’t kill him.”
“It depends on how hungry I get. What is he?”
“A Throne.”
“Riiiight.” A fanged grin. “Created for God’s war. Good. I like them robust. More flavorful.”
Keeping a firm hold on a tight-lipped Nia, Lore flew them out of the ruins and took to the sky. She shivered. He let his warmth seep into her, and her trembling eased. But her hands remained fisted against his chest, not touching him.
Her stolen powers battered at him. He could sense it hurt her and see it in her slight grimace and set jaw. Yet she remained silent.
He found a place near a flowing river and coasted down. The moment he landed, she pushed away from him and stumbled but righted herself before he could steady her. All he could do was take a deep breath and hope she’d hear him out.
But first… “You need to release that power into the earth. Or those hunting you will find you faster.”
Her expression hardened. She didn’t respond. Yes, she was mad at him, and he couldn’t blame her. She lowered to her knees and slammed her palms down like she’d done to him not so long ago. Power shot out of her hands into the pebbled ground. The earth trembled, the quake resonating, causing the river to undulate into a massive wave.
She gasped and fell back on her bottom.
Before the deluge swept her along with its velocity, he grabbed her, shot into the air, and hovered. With a thought, he calmed the river, then coasted down and set her back on her feet. Not liking the blood and dirt on her, a touch of his hand on her sweater cleared the gore stains on her clothes, her skin, and the dirt from her face.
“You don’t have to clean me up.” She stepped away.
He bit off a deep sigh. No point in delaying this. “Nia, what the Throne said is true. I was sent to observe, to see if you possessed any of the Watchers’ deadly abilities?—”
“And to kill me if I did,” she said, her tone as chilly as the air around them.
“And report back to the seraphs,” he continued. “Yes, it’s what I’ve been tasked to do.”
“I see. And where does the archangel Michael come into this since, according to you, he asked you toprotectme?”
“Everything I told you is true,” he said, his voice rough with regret, knowing nothing could atone for his omission and the pain he’d caused. “Michael did ask me to protect you. I just… My ties to the Celestial Realm prevented me from telling you the rest.”
