Part 12 (1/2)

His words sounded like a promise.

She started walking toward the beach. Rose wouldn't let herself look back at him.

Chapter Eight.

An angel wasn't supposed to be in h.e.l.l.

Lila stared at her wings. A pale imitation of what they'd once been. She'd already lost so many feathers, and the others didn't s.h.i.+ne any longer. They were darker.

Weaker.

Just as she was weak.

”Hey, angel!” Another female voice called out to her. Her head turned, and she saw the muse frowning at her.

She didn't know the muse's name, just what she was. A muse inspired humans. Sent them soaring to incredible heights...because she obsessed them. Her power was dark. She focused the mortals on their task to the extent that they lost focus on everything else.

Her magic was deadly.

And she was supposed to be an angel's enemy.

”Don't cry, angel,” the muse said, her voice soft. ”We're going to get out of here.” She moved closer to the bars of her own cell and Lila saw the glint of the woman's blonde hair.

Was she crying? Lila lifted a hand and touched her cheek. She was surprised by the wetness she felt there. Angels weren't supposed to cry.

Angels weren't supposed to feel.

So many things we aren't ”supposed to” do.

”Don't lie to her.” It was the other woman's voice...the witch. Another being that Lila was supposed to stay far away from because a witch was a dark paranormal. ”Don't give her false hope. We're all dying in this h.e.l.l.” She came toward the bars of her cell. Her beautiful face showed sympathy as she looked at Lila. ”Better go ahead and accept it now.” Her hands lifted. She had such gorgeous coffee cream skin. When Lila had first met the witch, the other woman had seemed to glow with power. Her whole body had seemed to s.h.i.+ne with an inner light. But that light had been fading. Slowly, day by day.

”I'm not lying,” the muse shot back, sounding annoyed. ”I'm trying to inspire. It's kind of my thing, you know.”

The witch laughed.

The witch and the muse. She thought they might be friends, of a sort.

”Your thing is to screw with the minds of mortals,” the witch threw back. ”Don't even try that s.h.i.+t with us.”

Maybe they weren't friends.

Lila cleared her throat. ”Our captor...he's human. Why doesn't your 'thing' work on him?”

There was silence, and she thought the muse wouldn't answer her. She shouldn't have spoken. They knew just how different from them she truly was. They were dark paranormals, bound to Luke Thorne, while she was tied to his twin brother, the Lord of the Light.

Tied to Leo.

Or...to the ”d.i.c.k” as the muse had called him.

Though she didn't think he was a d.i.c.k. Leo was her friend. When she'd first been taken, Lila had been so sure that Leo would come find her. But the days had slipped by.

He hadn't appeared.

”I can't do my 'thing' on him,” the muse muttered, ”because he's already obsessed enough. Why do you think we're all here?”

”I have no idea.” No, that wasn't true. He'd been taking her power away, one feather at a time. ”I thought he wanted our magic.”

”Oh, he does.” The witch laughed. ”But he wants it because he has a purpose. A plan.”

”What plan?”

”This is just going to make her cry more,” the muse warned. She seemed to be scolding the witch.

The witch backed away from her bars.

”Ignore her,” the muse ordered. She flashed Lila a smile.

She's beautiful, too. All muses were supposed to be beautiful. It was part of their charm. Leo had said creatures like the muse were beautiful on the outside, but rotten on the inside.

The muse didn't seem rotten, though.

”The witch is mad,” her voice carried easily to Lila, ”because the jerkoff who took us locked down her magic. She's too weak to crack a spell and get our sorry a.s.ses out of this place.”

The witch began cursing. Very inventive curses.

The muse laughed.

”I need a fourth,” the witch muttered. ”Air, fire, earth, and wind. If I could get all that, we'd be in business.”

”I'm guessing the angel counts as air...” The muse tapped her foot. ”What are you, witch? Fire?”

”No, that's you. You burn right through a man's soul, leaving only obsession in your wake.”

The muse glanced down. ”You say it like I have a choice.”

Lila frowned.

”I'm wind,” the witch said. ”My power blows down my enemies. When I'm not f.u.c.king imprisoned by a freak.”

Lila licked her lips. ”What...what kind of being would be your earth?”

The muse replied, ”Probably someone who's been dead. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes and all that jazz.”