31

~Ethan~

Bodies, hundreds of them, crawl forwards; a mass of broken wings and wasted muscle, coming to take what is ours. I pull two daggers free from my chest harness, tossing them in my waiting hands. My wings release with a whirl of air and lengthen either side of me, the dispensation lightening my steps and quickening my movements.

Jack stands tense beside me with a similar leather framework strapped across his body adorning various close-proximity combat blades. His wings release also, his feathery tips brushing mine.

Approximating their distance from us, the uneven terrain and their steady speed, I quickly calculate an estimated time of arrival.

"Two and a half minutes," I warn, sending a quiet prayer to The Throne for Ali's safety. I swallow nervously, sweat suddenly gathering across my forehead and palms as their distant cries can be heard. I dry my hands down the fabric of my trousers trying to hide my uneasiness from Jack. Pre-battle anxiety is a new feeling for me and Jack knows it as he watches me sheath and resheath my weapons restlessly.

"I have never seen you this sensitive about a mortal's life." It takes me a moment to realise that Jack is speaking to me.

"Their deaths will be on us," I remind him, deterring the conversation. I push the swell of emotion down to a place that takes Ali away from the forefront of my mind, giving me a moment to focus on strategy instead.

"If you want to try to deceive yourself, be my guest, but I know you too well, Ethan Hamon. You couldn't care less about any punishment," he turns to me and pokes my chest with the point of his blade, letting it bite sharply into my flesh. "You only care about if she lives so you can continue your fanciful romance." He stares me down, eyebrows pulled tight, but I don't budge. "After Angelina -"

"Don't bring her into this," I snarl, disarming him and pushing his blade back into his taught skin, just above his racing heart. He blinks for a moment, unsure of how he ended up in this position. But I am overcome with the memory of Angelina's face, clear in my mind as if she stood before me; her laugh like clinking crystal glasses, her opalescent eyes shimmering green, the gentle wave of her golden hair. So besieged by her image I don't realise that I have broken the flesh of Jack's chest until he groans in pain.

I pull back and drop the blade like it scalded my skin, letting it clatter to the ground. Ali's face gently floats back into the centre of my thoughts, slowly filtering out the tortuous memories of Angelina until there is only Ali to calm my hysteria. Jack allows me a moment to recompose myself as he picks up his blade and brushes the dirt away. When I meet his gaze again, Jack looks to me both curiously and surprised.

"Huh," he muses thoughtfully, taking a moment to consider me. "You actually like the girl." I avert my gaze, concealing everything my traitorous eyes may offer in response. He bites out a laugh in disbelief. "It just goes against every instinct within us to connect with another soul. I thought everything with Ali was just a performance; something to help you forget. I..." I can see the sincere apology on Jack's face before he even parts his lips. "I am truly sorry I didn't believe you."

"It doesn't matter anyway," I sigh, my heart breaking all over again as I relive the moment I told Ali I could never love her. "I hurt her too badly last night. I know it was for the best, but I can't help but feel like..." I moan as the emotional pain manifests into something physical. "like I am losing Angelina all over again." Jack considers this, closely assessing my earnestness.

"You do love her, right?" He asks tentatively, looking slightly uncomfortable with having to accept my affections.

"Jack, I can't describe to you how it felt that day she saw me for the first time. I don't just feel her in here," I point to the side of my head, still feeling hollow from where she blocked me out, "I feel her in here." My finger slides down, resting over my trembling heart. He nods, as if confirming what he already deduced.

"Then pick up your blades, Prince, and fight." Jack pulls a long knife from my side and forces it into my grip. Stunned, I squeeze the handle. "You will not let love pass you again, consequences be damned."

The clattering of iron weapons on the wind has me reaching for a second blade, hunched and ready to lunge as two Fallen rush towards us. The sulphuric stench is one of the first indicators of their arrival, the pungent scent like fire to the senses. The second is the fall in temperature, the icy chill sharpening the air with their arrival.

The first Fallen is cadaverous in appearance, yet agile on his feet, twisting his long blade around his hands, gnashing a jaw of barbed teeth. But it is the second Fallen surging towards us that has me attacking prematurely, pulling me from my position with knives raised - Zagan Shax, the Fallen who initiated this threat nine days ago.

Zagan scuttles forward with his streaky wings lifted, hundreds of Fallen angels mobbed behind him. As their skeletal faces come into view a sad recognition dawns upon me as I stare into the eyes of those I once regarded as brethren. But that was a long time ago.

The horde behind Zagan slow as our blades clash. I pull back, twist and thrust, but Zagan is already two steps to the left as my blade punctures air. He kicks my jaw with a heavy boot, sending me sprawling back the few steps I took. I push myself to a stand, spitting out the blood seeping onto my tongue as Zagan takes a step back.

"You always were more talk than action, Prince. The Throne is clearly still as delusional now as He was back then to have you in charge."

"Speak ill of Him again and you'll find yourself lacking a tongue to speak with at all," Jack gnars threateningly.

"And here I would have once gone as far to regard ourselves as friends," Zagan coos with faux nostalgia. Jack purses his lips, pained at the memory of their friendship.

Jack holds his weapons higher, pointing them to Zagan. "You died the day you rebelled. All I see is a ghost."

Zagan frowns but is not phased by the comment. Instead he steps forwards and I ready myself. "As enjoyable as this reunion is, it seems we have a more pressing agenda. Get the girls, Ethan." Zagan's voice is crackled like static but the words are unmistakeable.

"You know I can't let you do that," I growl and shift my grip on the hilt of a dagger.

"How deplorable." Spittle sprays with his disgust, his acidic breath mingling with the sting of vitriol. "Still defending these gutless, subservient creatures."

I bite back my fury and think with a level head. "I offer you a final opportunity to back down now."

Zagan laughs at my offer. A laugh that is accompanied by the snickering of the other countless Fallen as they mock our humbleness. Amongst the ocean of offenders, bodies are shoved thoughtlessly to the side as a Fallen pushes its way to the front of the mob. He is fully clothed in long, black robes, a hood pulled high over his head concealing his face in shadows. A female Fallen barks at the passer when his shoulder knocks her aside. He stands tall and broad beside Zagan and the other Fallen, assessing us from the darkness of his coverings. When he slips his hood back it takes me a moment to place his familiar face. When I do I feel deep betrayal, not for myself, but for Ali.

"Will." It is a statement, not a question as to who stands before me. The very sight of him sickens me. "How could you do this to Ali? You befriended her!" I shout, remembering back to the day when he held her so close my heart burnt with jealousy.

"I did what must be done and unsurprisingly with no hinderance to my conscience." He is cold in his words and demeanour without a trace of remorse, only triumph.

Zagan pushes Will back into the throng, peeved at his moment of attention. "You know, Angels, I consider myself to be somewhat of a utilitarianist; a single life to save so many lost souls." Zagan steps forwards with an expression that I can only assume was intended to portray cordiality. "Surely you too would consider yourselves to be moral men and would consider being an accomplice in something so noble?"

"Your principals are corrupt. How dare you attempt to justify your actions as anything other than heinous." My fingers twitch over the warm, curved handles of my blades. I hold them back.

"In that case, I will enjoy coaxing the life out of your beloved pet, holding her on the fence of life - not dead, yet not completely alive either - for as long as I wish." The mob howl in delight, cackling with the promise in Zagan's horned grin. Ali's eyes, glassy with death flash through my mind and my body convulses, finally unable to restrain myself any longer.

Blood sprays and my hands are slick.

Zagan's head thumps sickeningly to the floor and his slack body follows a moment later. I flick a line of blood from my long knife, ready for the first attacker.