Angelbound (41 page)

“Good.” Walker rocks back on his heels. “I’ll speak with your friends as well. We’ll all meet back here before the match tomorrow.” He turns to me and grins. “Angelbound to Lincoln, eh?”

I curl deeper into my blanket and blush. “Yeah.”

“You better tell him about the…” He points to the general area of my eyes.

Rising to my feet, I hunch-walk toward my bedroom. “I’m not doing anything until I’ve had a nap.” I let out a puff of air.
What a bitch of a morning.

Mom folds her arms over her chest, a smile twinkling in her eyes. “I’ll call school and tell them you’re sick.”

I loop the top of the blanket over my head. “Thanks, Mom.”

“And Myla?”

I take little shuffling steps to turn around and see her, the blanket still curled around my ears. “What, Mom?”

“I’m very proud of you.”

My face breaks out into a huge smile. I didn’t expect it’d feel
that good
to hear her say those words. “Thanks, Mom. I’m proud of you, too.”

Sometime after lunch, Nightshade and I start the long ride to the thrax compound. Mom gave me a ghoul robe to wear; I’m careful to keep the hood drawn low to hide my eyes. As Night and I gallop along, a light drizzle falls over the browning trees and yellow grass. The clouds hang low and dark in the sky.

I sigh. The weather’s as gloomy as my mood. Walker was right. Lincoln and I have a lot stacked up against us, and that was
before
I became the Scala Heir. Now I’m off to who-knows-where so I can hide for no-one-knows-how-long. I can’t imagine this being good for our relationship.

Night and I soon cross the rolling hills to the open fields of thrax lands. I’m too nervous to enjoy the ride much. My thoughts keep turning over the realizations of the morning and how they probably spell doom and gloom for me and Lincoln. Night whinnies, breaking me out of my funk. I glance about, finding us stopped in front of the thrax feasting hall.

I lean forward and pat Night’s neck. “In here, girl?”

Night whinnies again.

“Thanks.” I slide off her back, step up to the hall’s door and pull on the wooden handle. It opens with a long creak. I step inside, finding everything to be quiet, empty, and dark. My stomach somersaults with nervous energy. How do I even begin to explain everything to Lincoln?

“Hello? Anybody in here?”

No response. In a corner, I hear the clickity-clack of mouse claws on the wooden floor. No one’s around. I stand by the feasting table, drumming my fingers on the rough wood. Anxiety spirals up my spine. The only thing worse than having to explain this to Lincoln? Having to hunt around the thrax compound first and find him. Maybe Nightshade made a mistake.

The door behind me slowly swings open. Adrenaline pumps into my bloodstream. Moving quickly, I pull my hood low over my face, steal across the room, and flatten myself against a stretch of wall by the door.

A column of light slices through the darkened feasting hall. Lincoln steps inside along with two older men.

My body relaxes a bit. Night was right.

The trio step into the darkened room; I adjust my hood for a better look at them. Lincoln wears his traditional leather pants, chain mail, and tunic. An older man stands beside him with ebony skin, long dread locks, and the crest of an Egyptian eye on his chest. Probably, the Earl of Horus. Next to him stands a man with cocoa skin, high cheekbones, and short gray hair. His tunic’s covered with the image of three blue claw-marks: the Earl of Kamal.

The door swings shut behind them, leaving the room in semi-darkness. Horus
searches around the feasting table. “Curses, where are those blasted candles?”

“Never mind that,” says Lincoln. “You said your need was urgent.”

Kamal is the first to speak, his voice a rich baritone under a clipped accent. “We heard the House of Striga backed out of the Alliance.”

My brows arch. Alliance? What kind of Alliance?

Lincoln folds his arms across his chest. “Striga has some questions, but I still have their seal on the Alliance parchment. If they back out—if
any of you
back out—it will mean the King’s wrath.” His voice becomes a low rumble. “You gave your seal. You gave your word.”

I’ve never heard Lincoln get angry before, and I must admit I like him bossy. Desire starts pumping through my veins along with the adrenaline. The skin around my eyes heats up. Hells bells. My stupid inner lust demon’s about to get me caught. Closing my eyelids, I force myself to think about saying goodbye to Lincoln. After a few seconds, I calm down enough to pay attention to the conversation again.

The Earl of Horus waves his hand. “This Alliance isn’t worth the parchment it’s written on. Even with Horus, Kamal, Striga, and Rixa together, we don’t have enough strength of arms to face down the Earl of Acca.”

I inwardly groan. Walker told me about this before. The Earl of Acca runs the most powerful House in Antrum. Now he wants the throne too, which in his mind means Lincoln marrying Adair. Reason number 439 why this relationship is probably doomed.

Kamal snaps his fingers, a falcon swoops from the rafters to land on his
shoulder. I stifle a gasp, but Lincoln and the Earls barely notice the animal. I guess the House of Kamal must do stuff like this all the time. “Take my advice.” Kamal runs his pinky down the falcon’s head. “Give Acca what he wants.”

Lincoln chuckles, but there’s no humor in it. “Really? Is that what he wants this week? You’ve seen what happened with my father. Give in once and there’s no end.” He gestures between the two men. “We all know what’s happening here. Acca sees my father as toothless, so now he’s coming after my canines.” He slams his fist into his hand. “I must stand my ground or I no longer deserve my crown.”

His phrase, ‘stand my ground,’ echoes happily around my brain.
That means he won’t marry Adair.
My mouth winds into a smile. Whatever happens, at least he’ll never end up with that loser.

Lincoln stares coolly at the two Earls. “You speak of the great houses. But are they the only ones in Antrum? The Houses Gurith, Zerihun, and Alura are all loyal to the King, perhaps many more.”

I remember reading about this in a Ryder library book. Thrax live deep underground. Lands below the old world—Europe, Australasia, Africa—are all ruled by Rixa. There are five major houses and hundreds of lesser ones. All follow the King’s law but pretty much run their own show. Excitement strums in my chest. Lincoln plans to unite the lesser Houses and create one great army to fight Acca. I steal a glance at his mismatched eyes and smile. If anyone can do it, he can.

Horus points at Lincoln, the hint of a smile on his wide mouth. “You’re a crafty
one, I’ll grant you. So much like Octavia.”

Lincoln nods. “We return to Antrum tomorrow. I’ll reach out to the lesser Houses the moment I return.” He gestures from Kamal to Horus. “Don’t forget why you signed this Alliance in the first place. Once Acca takes down my House, he’ll come for you next. All I’m asking for is a little time.”

Kamal frowns. “And your father supports this? Word is he bows lower to Acca each day.”

Lincoln’s upper lip curls. “Have you ever seen
me
bow?”

Kamal steps to the Prince’s side. “No, my Prince. Never.”

“Nor will you.” Lincoln’s gaze shifts between the Earls. “We leave for Antrum tomorrow. There’s much work to do. If you’ll excuse me.” He motions to the exit.

The Earls pause, share a long look, and then nod. Lincoln opens the door. He’s only a few inches away from me now, but so are the Earls.

Yipes.

Kamal steps toward the exit; then he stops at the threshold. My heart thuds so loud, I’m sure they can hear it. “I’ll give you a month. I can risk no more with Acca.”

The desperate look in Kamal’s eyes sets my nerves on edge. The way everyone talks about Acca, you wouldn’t think this dumbass shot crossbow bolts at a Limus demon.

Next, Horus steps up to grip Lincoln’s arm, his features on edge. “You’re the last chance we have.”

The edges of Lincoln’s mouth round with a grin. He’s so not worried, it isn’t funny. “And have
I ever failed you?”

Kamal scowls. “Not yet.” They finally leave; the door slams shut behind them. Lincoln exhales slowly.

That was close.

In one swift movement, Lincoln moves to face me, his mouth finding mine. The Prince’s tongue plays across my lips, quickly driving deeper with need. Heat flows through my veins, pooling in my core. Lincoln’s body shifts as presses me against the wall, the motion just rough enough to make me moan. Damn, that feels good. My legs tremble as I taste him over and over, his muscles flexing and releasing as me moves against me.

Lincoln sets his mouth by my ear. “You’re lucky those Earls can’t hunt worth a damn. I could hear you breathing from across the room.”

I lick my lips and smile. “Lucky me.”

The Prince stares at me for a long moment. “That was the part where I lose control because I didn’t expect to see you.” He shoots me a shy smile. “Next is the part where I say we take things slowly.”

“Thank you.” Although if I didn’t have such an awful reason for visiting him, I’d talk him into returning to the first part.

Lincoln links his fingers with mine, and then leans back. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” Our arms swing in a happy motion. It feels insanely good to see him. I smile for the first time in what feels like years.

“Lincoln, what did my eyes look like yesterday?” I stay flush against the wall, careful to keep my head and hood in the shadows.

“Oh that.” He frowns, remembering. “They were changing colors. Brown, blue, red. You said it was from your lust demon awakening for the first time.” He leans in and nuzzles my neck. “Did I mention how much I liked red?”

I laugh. “That you did.” Last night during our walk, we’d take breaks and kiss for a while before one of us would say ‘taking it slowly.’ Over time, it turned into (what else) a competition to see how fast Lincoln could get my ‘eyes to spark.’ Hottie Prince pain-in-my-butt. “No less than six times, as I recall.”

He purses his lips. “As long as I’m consistent, that’s what matters.” He looks at me out of his right eye. “Is that why you came here, to ask me that?”

I fidget against the wall. “No, I came here to show you something.”

Lincoln’s face creases with concern. “Okay. What is it?”

My stomach ties into knots. “What if I were different from who you thought I was?”

His voice stays calm, his face unreadable. “Like how, different?”

“What if I became someone who was a risk, a target?” Nervous energy zings through my body. I have the perverse desire to kick a hole in the feasting hall table. “Someone who needs to disappear for a very long time.”

Lincoln moves closer, wrapping his long arms around me. “And you’re afraid of what exactly?”

I close my eyes and snuggle into his shoulder, inhaling his scent of forest pine and leather. My body relaxes. This is what I’ve needed all day long. Here, with him holding me, I feel like I can say anything. “We’ve already got a lot stacked against us, Lincoln. Maybe you’re better off with someone like Adair.”

“Really?” He kisses the top of my head, gently. “Did you know Adair thinks Simia demons are cute?”

I roll my eyes. “You’re lying.”

“I wish.” He slides one hand up my back. “You’re hiding your eyes again, Myla.”

Damn, he
is
a good hunter.

His fingers entwine with the back of my hood, slowly pulling it away from my face. “I already told you. I like it when your eyes turn red.”

I grit my teeth and steel my shoulders. It takes everything I have just to keep my gaze level with his. Once he understands what I really am, this could be over, big time.

Lincoln’s forehead furrows. “Your eyes are blue.” His mouth thins to an angry line. “Did someone from the House of Striga cast a spell on you? So help me, I’ll—”

“No, it’s not that.”

He cups my face in his hands, his features drawn with worry. “Are you sick?”

“No, nothing like that either.” I open my mouth, ready to tell him I’m the Scala Heir. What comes out is a fragment of the truth. “My father is an angel named Xavier.”

Lincoln’s mismatched eyes stretch wide. “The
archangel
Xavier? I studied him at the citadel. Greatest warrior in history. Legend says he never loved anything but battle.”

I let out a high-pitched humph. “Until he met my mother.”

“I can see that. If she’s anything like you.” The Prince eyes me carefully for a minute, his face creasing with confusion. “I don’t understand. That would make you—” He swallows. “That’s impossible.”

“I thought so too.” I bite my lips together. How do you convince your kind-of boyfriend that you’re a one-of-a-kind soul-swapping super being?

Only one way, really.

Inhaling deeply, I close my eyes and call the igni to return. At first, their music is tinkling and distant in my mind, then quickly growing rich and loud. Child-like laughter rings in my ears; my mouth quirks with a smile. Having them return is like welcoming an old friend home.

I raise my right palm to shoulder-height and open my eyes. In my mind I know Lincoln is near, but he seems blocked behind a white haze. The skin on my face cools; my irises glow bright blue. Igni materialize around my hand, appearing even faster this time than when I called them in my house. The tiny lightning bolts swirl about my palm before arcing to the ceiling in one great geyser. Once they hit the wooden rafters, the igni bounce and tumble to the floor like so many snowflakes, disappearing before they touch the ground.

I focus on Lincoln. When the haze around him clears, I find he’s standing a few yards away, his face still as stone. I meet his gaze. “Possible or not, I
am
the next Scala.”

“Myla, I—”

I raise both hands at him, palms forward. “No, I need to say something first. Now that my Scala powers are active, I have to go into hiding. I don’t know when
I’ll resurface, if ever. Walker told me about all the things stacked up against us…How the Earl wants you to marry Adair. And I heard what you said to Kamal and Horus before. Unifying the lesser Houses? You’ve got enough to worry about without adding me to the list.” I hug my elbows.
Here comes the yucky part.
“What I’m saying is, if you want to see someone else, that’s okay with me.” I roll my eyes.
What am I saying?
“Not that we’re really dating in the first place.”