Page 105 of Wolf of Ashes
Halle screams as she rages in my direction. “Which fool wishes to get in my way next?”
She doesn’t wait for an answer, spearing the space in front of her with vines that shoot toward both Diavolo and Lucian at the same time.
I imagine she intended to dispense with them as quickly as she dealt with Gad and Valki.
The vines sail on through Diavolo’s smoky body and tear up the chairs behind him without doing him any damage to his chest.
As for Lucian, his wings thump out at his sides and shadows burst from his body, darkening the space all around us. His feathers are so black that they nearly disappear within the shadows while his skin only glows more brightly.
As the vines shoot toward him, he sweeps his wings. Not down so as to propel himself into the air, but across the space in front of his body. There’s a flash, then multiple sparks, as he cuts across the vines with the tips of his wings.
My eyes widen as, for a second, I think he’s managed to cut through them, which would be impossible since feathers are soft…Aren’t they?
Then I see that he’s deflected the vines, not severed them, somehow using his wings as shields, beating back Halle’s attacks as he pushes toward her.
Diavolo leaps forward, too.
Halle gives a scream of frustration, backtracking a few steps, and that’s all I see before I whirl to Jonah.
“Tell me where to take Elijah,” I whisper. “Give me the location and I’ll get him to safety.”
Jonah shakes his head, one eye on the fight ahead of us. “No.”
“Look, you don’t trust me. Well, I don’t fucking trust you. After all, you were going to use us as scapegoats.”
His focus snaps to me.
“Yeah, I’m not stupid,” I murmur, although I’m disappointed that his expression confirms my theory. “The fact is, neither of us should trust the other. But Icanmake you a promise.”
I grab his arm with my free hand despite the molten lava covering his skin.
Searing pain bursts across my palm.
Jonah jolts, his eyes widening, but I don’t let go because I’ve got his full attention now.
The light around the edge of my palm fades—a sign he’s reducing his power there—but the residual heat is intense.
“I’m going to tell a lot of lies,” I whisper. “That’s my nature as a dark creature. But I’ll give you a truth: When I look at this kid, I see myself. A pawn in a game played by adults. And I won’t fucking allow it. Do you hear me?” I grip him harder, the pain searing me, burning to a point where I believe the agony will stop soon because the nerves will die.
“I won’t. Fucking. Allow it.”
Jonah stares back at me, searching my eyes. Then his focus drops to Elijah, who’s buried his head in my shoulder. Then farther down to Anarchy, who’s snarling up at both of us.
“Tell me where to take him!” I snap.
Jonah’s jaw clenches. The furrow in his brow is deep. But he doesn’t look away. Beneath his breath, he says, “St. Michael Cemetery.”
I let him go.
I can’t feel my hand.
The sensations in it are as dead as my hopes of getting into the inner circle tonight.
I tell myself I’ll find another way. For now, I need to focus on the problems in front of me.
“Keep the witch busy,” I say to Jonah.
I step back from him, my only purpose to get the keeper’s attention so he can translocate us out of here.
