Blood magic. My weapon did blood magic.
‘I’m just supposed to ask one of them for their blood?’ I screamed at her, my face pinching in anger.
Michael frowned. “Is something wrong?”
I laughed nervously, and now Raphael was looking at me like I was crazy.
‘It has to be one of the archangels who have blessed Lincoln with power, so either will do, really,’ Sera said, as if that was helping.
My hand nervously ran through my hair. “Well, I guess Sera needs archangel blood for her magic finder spell… so…”
Oh God, kill me know.
Michael stepped forward, bringing with him the air of power, and held out his arm. “No problem. I trust you, Brielle.”
Those blazing blue eyes looked right through me, straight into my soul, and I nearly covered my chest in an attempt to hide. I felt so exposed, so… raw.
Archangel Michael trusted me. Angel blood fetched a fair price on the black market, and he trusted me.
‘Come on, Lincoln’s being tortured for all we know!’ Sera shouted, making me jump a little.
Breaking out of my Michael mesmerization, I pulled Sera out.
‘Just a little taste is all I need,’ she instructed.
Gross.
Michael held his arm out, and I reluctantly sliced a little cut on the upper part of his left forearm. He didn’t even flinch, but I did.
I just freaking cut Archangel Michael. I was totally going to hell.
‘Oh yum. He tastes even better then he smells.’
Oh. My. God. My face fell.
‘You’re completely nuts,’ I told my blade.
She didn’t seem to care. ‘Get in the car. I’ve got a beacon on your man.’
Relief washed over me. “She’s got him!”
I ran to the car, Noah hopping in the driver seat while I sat shotgun. The rest of our crew pilled in the back, with Michael and his warriors following us in one of the Fallen Army-issued fifteen passenger vans. They were blacked out, and had such severe tinting you couldn’t even see inside of them.
Hopefully we would be low-key.
‘Go right,’ Sera urged suddenly.
“Right!” I shouted, and Noah slammed on the brakes, cutting the wheel to make the turn.
I muttered an apology to him and told Sera to give me more notice next time.
‘I can’t. Go left,’ she shouted.
“Left here!” I pointed to the road we were about to pass.
The tires squealed as we made the turn, and Noah gave me a glare.
“She can’t help it! Drive slower,” I shouted at him.
“Yeah,” Shea backed me up.
Noah sighed, easing on the brakes and slowing to a crawl. We made our way slowly into the city of Inferno, almost to the outer edge where there were high gates and tons of demon guards.
“What’s that?” I whispered, staring at the gates.
“We call it the city of Limbo. It’s a demon stronghold,” Noah explained.
Oh God. If Lincoln was in there, I would cry.
‘Left and stop. He’s here. The big brick building up ahead,’ Sera told me.
I relayed her words to Noah, and we turned left and parked. Up ahead, there was indeed a large red brick industrial building. It felt like the gauntlet all over again.
‘How can you see when you don’t have eyes?’ I asked Sera.
‘I’m an angel blade. I don’t need eyes to see,’ she retorted.
Show-off.
Not one of us dared leave the car for fear of tipping them off and them killing or moving Lincoln.
“I have a plan,” Michael said over the radio. “Our Light Mage says this building is heavily guarded, and I don’t want to spook them. Brielle, do you feel ready to do a mission?”
To save my boyfriend from Tainted Army assholes? Hell yes!
“Yes sir,” I told him. Raphael could be ‘Raph,’ but Michael was always ‘sir.’
“Let’s fly, then.” And the line went dead.
Noah pivoted toward me. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? You can say no.”
I rolled my eyes. “Are you kidding? I’m going to help Lincoln.”
Noah shrugged. “Lincoln would want me to try to stop you at least once. Now, I can say I did. Good luck. We’ll be right behind you once you secure him.” He clipped a walkie-talkie to my belt and nodded.
Lincoln would want Noah to protect me, because Lincoln was always protecting me. The thought made my heart pinch.
I’m coming.
Shea reached over and squeezed my bicep, and I squeezed her hand back before exiting the car. Michael was waiting for me on the curb, wearing a hooded sweater. His wings were drawn as far behind him as possible so as to appear normal to a passerby, I assumed.