Iniquity (The Premonition, #5)(98)

We land on the wall of the bridge. “Brennus,” I plead, “it’s me! It’s Genevieve. Your queen—” Brennus’ soul nearly takes my head off as his battle-axe comes within millimeters of my neck.

Reed takes to the air once more, hauling me with him. His charcoal-colored wings beating hard, flying toward the nightmarish city. The evil Faeries follow us, careening in and out of other malicious beings that get in their way. The weapon in my hand would like to go back to them, but Reed is so much faster than our pursuers. We fly over the river; bodies float in its current. Tortured souls are driven by pig-headed creatures to construct gorgeous, ornate structures on the outskirts of the city.

Reed flies us to the rooftop of a building that would make the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris look quaint. He lands on the eave, holding his finger to his lips he walks with me, checking out the space to make sure nothing is sharing it with us. Finding nothing, he takes a deep breath, asking, “Did they hurt you? Did he cut you?” he holds me to him, gently rubbing my back. Ash falls around us like snow. I shake my head. “No. They didn’t hurt me. They didn’t use magic.” I whisper to my hammer, Be small. Hang on to me. Reaching over my left shoulder I place the small hammer on my back beneath my wing.

Reed sighs in relief, but then his eyes narrow, “Why didn’t they use magic?” he asks.

I shrug. “I don’t know. They just didn’t.”

“Faeries always use magic. It’s their thing.”

“Maybe they thought it wouldn’t work on us because we’re angels?”

“Maybe. I’ve heard rumors...”

“What rumors?”

“I’ve heard that inside Sheol, not everything will work like it does on the surface of Earth. It’s mostly speculation; divine angels rarely have the opportunity to gain first-hand knowledge of this place. I’ve seen interrogations—torture. None of it was concrete for me until this moment.”

“This is all new to you?”

“Well, yes. Is it new to you?”

“Yeah,” I say it like that’s an understatement.

“When you promised earlier that we’d find a new city and make it our own, I’d like to go on record as passing on this one.”

An unexpected giggle tumbles from me. How he can make me laugh in this place at this moment is beyond my comprehension. “Not even a summer home?” I ask.

A bang rips between us, making me flinch. As I do, a net drops over Reed’s body, pinning him underneath it and making him visible by his silhouette. The rope is shiny and perfect, which makes me think its made of angel hair. I’m forced to let go of Reed’s hand when the souls of Lachlan, Faolan, and Declan tackle him. Another bang and I’m harpooned with a net as well; it wraps around my legs and arms, and goes all the way up to my shoulders. I fight against it, but it’s strong—angel hair.

Finn’s soul puts a knee in my back and twines rope around my wings through the large holes in the mesh. My hands and legs are bound with more rope. He unwraps me from the snare, but the other cords secure me as his prisoner. He hauls me up from the shingles of the rooftop. Slipping a knife to my throat, he pulls the hammer from my back. It goes to him as if it missed him. I become visible to all the demons of this place. Brennus’ soul moves out of the shadows, his white staring eyes are on me, but there is no recognition—no hint that he knows me. I move my fingers, whispering a quick spell to break through the binding, but it doesn’t work. I try again with a fire spell. Again nothing.

“Brennus,” I say in a tortured voice. “I know why you’re here. I’ve come to take you home. Please. Listen to me.”

He comes to stand a hair’s breadth away. His hand wrenches my chin up, his fingers bruising my flesh. Behind him, the other fellas have drawn their knives, preparing to stab Reed to death. Brennus’ soul leans his face down to mine. We’re almost nose-to-nose. He growls deep in his throat. My heart beats furiously. “I’m here to free you from Sheol—I have to kill Emil and Byzantyne—you said you’d know me by note! What does that mean?”

Another faerie creeps from the shadows. His voice is sexy and deep when he says something in a Faerie dialect that I understand, although I don’t know why. I think for a moment and I realize he said, “She is the one. Secure them. We deliver them to Byzantyne tonight.” Brennus’ soul lifts his head, complying with the other faerie’s orders like a good little drone.

“You must be Aodh,” I say in Faerie, watching the souls of Lachlan and Declan drag Reed from the ground, tying the net around him tighter. I can’t see his face; he’s just a lump in the net.

“I am. And who might ye be?” Aodh’s soul asks. He comes into the half-light. He’s strikingly handsome. His long black hair is pulled back from his face and tied behind his head. He has a strong jaw and a sharp chin, and his skin is smooth and pristine. His eyes glow with green fire. White faerie wings arch upward, forming sharp points above his head. I want to throat punch him. Something shifts in me. I become the hunter, picking out all of his weaknesses.

“Brennus sends his love,” I say with a smile. Aodh’s soul lunges toward me and hits me in the face. It doesn’t really hurt. He’s not that strong and I’m an angel. I laugh because I know it will enrage him. “Take me to Byzantyne. I dare you. I’ll slaughter all of you.”