ONE
Unspoken Rule of the Fringes #15:
Magic lives and breathes. It can also die.
CELINE
Heat. Noise. The crackle of magical wards harmonizes with the buzz of neon lights and the heavy thud of a bass guitar. I shudder. The air is laced with the smell of beer and trash. A gust of dry wind rustles my hair, bringing with it a whiff of exhaust.
We did it. I’m finally home . . .
“It doesn’t look good, baby.”
Luca’s voice is gentle. As if I’m delicate. Fragile. A piece of glass on a collision course with the hard, unforgiving pavement. He thinks I’m going to shatter. I want to deny it. More than anything, I want to roll my shoulders back, tip my chin up, and dare him to use that tone with me again. But he’s right, and everyone, Alistair, Ciprian, Riven, and even Hyacinth, knows it. Gods, I brought my face-shifting jailer to the Fringes, and it’s noteven in my top five worries.
My fingers curl, and a drop of sweat rolls down my spine and pools in the small of my back. There’s no point pretending with Luca. The new bond between us makes it impossible to hide from him.
I clear my throat—raw from screaming—and let the pain ground me. “I won’t betray him again.”Malach. Malach. Malach. Malach.My heart calls for him with each beat, but he doesn’t answer, and he won’t. Because he’s gone.
“You never betrayed him,” Ciprian says. He grabs my right hand and laces his fingers with mine. “You left for good reason.”
My stomach twists.
They can tell me I’m innocent a million times in a hundred different ways, but I knew what my leaving the celestial realm would do to Malach. He loved me, even then, and I knew he wouldn’t move on. I stepped through the gateway anyway because I was desperate to create a life of my own. I don’t regret it, but I don’t deserve his forgiveness either.
This sick terror churning inside meis exactly what I deserve.
We escaped the monster realm, but it isn’t victory to me. Gods, I’m gutted. Cut off at the knees. I’m missing part of my heart. I rub the heel of my hand over my chest, but it doesn’t help.
“This is unreasonable,” Riven snaps. “Am I the only one with functioning eyes and ears? The angel made his choice. He stood at S’lach’s side and confirmed his betrayal.”
“Don’t talk to her like that.” Alistair shoves Riven.
Riven shoves him back. “Keep your hands off me.”
“Or what?” Alistair hisses. “You’re in my domain now, Veydra. I can tear your throat out, snap my fingers, and someone will be here to dispose of you in ten minutes.”
They keep at it, hurling insults back and forth.
I open my mouth to put a stop to the posturing, then close it again.
Words are meaningless.
My feet move on their own, the uneven bumps of the asphalt familiar through the soles of my shoes.Yes, I need to move.This is good. I can do this.I’ll walk it off, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll find someone to pick a fight with and work the tension off that way.
A sign with flashing pink bulbs flickers to my right. We’re only three blocks from the Fang. That’s good, but the jittery glow reveals things I’d rather ignore. Nails bitten to the quick; raw, bruised knuckles; and an index fingernail stained purple, not by polish but by blood pooled beneath the surface.
A hot gust of wind ripples through the alley, blowing a strand of limp, tangled hair into my face. I tuck it behind my ear and wince as I catch my reflection in a bar window.
Bundled in a filthy hoodie, my tearstained face is covered in grit and gashes. I don’t recognize myself. The sensation of being outside my body is disorienting, as if I’m looking at a stranger. These hands don’t belong to me. These tears aren’t mine. They can’t be.
Celine is the toughest angel in the Vegas Fringes,but I can’t find her. She’s been chewed up, spit out, and glued back together as someone entirely new.
Who am I now? Do I even have the strength to find out?
Someone shouts for me.
I tune them out and keep moving, pushing my legs to go faster.
