Through Flame and Blade

Ch. 19 Hell Messes with You

*Chiara

Chiara retreated to the far wall of the small alcove as Logan vanished in the gyrating crowds, weaving between sweaty dancers, tables, and the smoke streaked air.

What if he didn't come back? Fear ate her, through muscle and bone, and she was shaking again. Like a child. Like the weak, useless thing she was.

Daviid's voice echoed in her head—not his real words, but the ones from her nightmares. She crouched low on the rough floor, balancing on her toes and hugging her knees to her chest until cramps seized her calves.

Coward. You disgust me.

No.

Every single angel perished on that field, except you, while you hid behind them. They died, slaughtered and you watched. You deserve your pain."

"No," she moaned, clutching her head.

You deserve your pain. Coward.

The words repeated in her mind as she moaned, clutching her head as if to squeeze them out. She was a coward. A sinning, disgusting thing. And the words would not get out of her head. She should return to the Keeper's Tunnels and let Death have her.

Then a different memory—clapping hands. Zeigfel's voice crept in. You will never leave this place.

Burning hatred was a glowing white coal in her chest. She had vowed to kill Zeigfel a thousand times over for every hurt he inflicted on her.

He was in her head, not Daviid or Death.

She might not even be in this room. She might still be hanging from her chains while he tortured her with his mind games. She hugged her legs tighter, bringing her wings around her body for warmth.

No. This was real.

Zeigfel didn't break her before, he would not fucking break her now.

She stood, facing the tunnel, letting her wings spread, angled to the back and slightly apart in preparation for an attack. She didn't need a sword to defeat this enemy, she was angelic born, trained to survive and fight. She was light and life. She was made of star dust, the frost in winter, and the Fountain's water, and no demon, not even one of the original fallen who joined with Lucifer in rebellion at the beginning of time would defeat her.

Wake up. Chiara, wake up.

Chiara. Zeigfel's voice slithering into her ear.

Snarling, she spun, fist flying into his nose.

****

*Logan

Logan returned after only a few minutes, stolen goods in hand—a handful of discarded clothes, boots, even a sword—to find Chiara in a near trance, staring at the wall.

He shook her.

"Wake up," he said, shaking her shoulder again. "Chiara, wake up. Chiara!"

Then, he blinked and Chiara's fist was in his face. White light exploded in his eyes and a searing pain wracked his face, radiating from his nose through his whole skull.

Instincts had him moving instantly.

He dropped, circling an arm to catch Chiara around the waist. Eyes shut against the pain, he twisted her in the air and dropped her to the ground, but carefully, and put a knee to her chest. To hold her in place until he could figure out what was going on.

At least, that was what he intended to do.

What actually happened was, he swung his arm wide and wrapped it around her waist, turned, readying himself to drop her, when she twisted the other way and slammed her elbow in his chest.