Tears of pain fall down my cheeks and I can only imagine how they’re mixing with my blood right now. So much of it dripping to the ground as I heave my arms and legs, groaning with effort.
I’m beyond vulnerable lying on the ground like this.
Heave, Veda! Fucking get up!
At the edges of my vision, I’m aware of everyone else in this clearing having come to an abrupt halt, but I’m certain it’s only a matter of time before they’ll burst into action once more.
I remind myself of what Rebella said to me.
I’ve gotten so good at getting back up after I fall, I’ve learned to survive without the ability to fly.
Well, now I need to get up again.
With that, I finally manage to push myself up onto my knees, blood dripping down my chin and neck while my heavy wings drag at my sides, their nightmarish feathers all clumped together.
I find myself the subject of stares.
Of course, James has never seen my wings. Rebella certainly sensed them because she asked me why I didn’t use them when I fought her.
But the two assassins appear shell-shocked, their eyes wide and their faces pale.
“The other kind,” Mommy Assassin whispers.
She mentioned three kinds of supernatural that can see through her invisibility and it seems I am ‘the other’, whatever that is.
Again, I remind myself that this quiet won’t last.
I have to make decisions now about whether or not I’m going to continue defending or start attacking—assuming I can even get up.
But, damn, no wonder my mother told me to avoid these assassins.
There is a part of me that understands and respects Daddy Assassin’s reaction. Hell, if only my own father were so protective.
But there is another part of me that’s angry.
I didn’t start this fight. I didn’t even throw a hit. Mommy Assassin stumbled into my claws while I was trying to avoid her.
I zero in on her wounds. They’ve sealed up again. No more bleeding. She’s healed.
Baby Assassin will be just fine. I guess that’s something.
Even so, I square my shoulders as best I can and stare the assassins down as if I’mnotcrumpled on the ground and weighed down by heavy wings.
“If you want me dead, come at me,” I say, convincing myself that every word I’m speaking will be true. “But do it now—because I won’t give you another chance.”
Mommy Assassin turns paler than I was expecting her to. “Your wings, they’re?—”
She doesn’t have the chance to finish whatever she was going to say.
Out of nowhere, a freezing rush of misty air blasts into me, catching my feathers and nearly knocking me backward.
So much for the illusion of strength.
My eyes widen when the keeper appears in front of me, positioned between me and the assassins.
“Keeper,” I gasp.
He’s standing side-on to me, no doubt so he can keep both me and them in his sights, but it also allows me to see how deathly pale he is.
