Through Flame and Blade

Ch 13 To Prove Himself

*Logan

In an instant, Logan understood the water that Lucius had thrown at her was from the Fountain of Life. The bastard could have healed her at any time. Now an angel in full glory stood before them. The glow of her wings nearly blinded him.

She recoiled in horror at the sight of him. Lucius locked a pair of Ferrum cuffs on her, the power in them giving control of her and her angelii to the demon lord.

Anger whipped through Logan and he growled, unable to stop himself. That Lucius would dare be her master....

The instant the cuffs were in place, Lucius lunged to the side into her blind spot, getting a chain around her neck.

Still dazed from being healed, she struggled, but was too slow. As Logan strained to free himself, she was driven to her knees by Lucius who managed to get behind her. A knife flashed at her throat.

"Have you ever seen a more breathtaking creature, Logan? I'm not surprised you are envious of my prize," Lucius said. He pulled harder, cutting off her air.

Under him, Chiara scraped at her neck. He had her pinned, though. This was Logan's chance. He heaved harder. Any more and he'd take off his hand.

"Mine! Let me," he cried. "I've been locked up in here with her for weeks, let me do it."

"And what is it you want to do?" Lucius asked.

Chiara whimpered and whipped her wings. Wind whirled in the small dungeon, sending the scents of sand and salt-sea around them.

He knew what he had to say.

"Let me cut off her wings."

"No," she choked, shaking her head.

Lucius grinned. The torches dimmed with his daemonium's power. Logan felt it bringing his own darkness to life. The Dark Flame in him yearned for death and destruction. Lucius dragged Chiara across the floor.

"Take her wings and all will be forgiven. You will join me at the Fountain for the next battle, my greatest fighter. You will go free."

"Angel blood will flow," Logan said.

"And we will drink it," Lucius replied, finishing the pledge. He tossed Logan the key.

Logan unlocked the cuffs at his wrists and snapped for the blade. Lucius gave it to him with an approving grunt. It gleamed with the red and gold flames of torch-light. The weight reminded him of training with his twin brother, of the placing contests, where each initiate is paired with another. It took Logan less than ten seconds to finish his opponent and earn a place in Lucius's troops.

He hefted the long, wide knife, letting Chiara see it before Lucius forced her to turn.

Another whimper escaped her throat, but then her spine straightened. She unfurled her wings to their full length. The brighter they shone, the heavier the darkness grew in the corners and around Lucius. But their light was winning.

"Do it, and prove yourself," Lucius said.

Prove himself—what he was best at.

Logan nodded curtly. He grasped Chiara's wing joint near her spine. It burned hotter than a glowing poker.

This was part of his power, his unique talents. Not many demons, even among the duxtori could withstand the touch of angelic wings, even wearing gloves. He held on bare-handed, calling up just enough of his Dark Flame to give him strength.

Gritting his teeth against the sizzling pain, Logan lifted the blade. Memories of hundreds of battles crashed through his mind—the dizzying power of stripping the angels of their most prized possession, sending them falling down to earth before he killed them.