Black Ops Fae (A Spy Among the Fallen Book 2) by C.N. Crawford

Author:C.N. Crawford [Crawford, C.N.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-02-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

In Adonis’s bathtub, I scrubbed a bar of soap over my skin. It smelled faintly of anemones, and formed a pink foam over my forearms. It felt good to clean the stench of death off myself.

We had two ticking time bombs on our hands now—Johnny, and the injured angel who could be limping his way back to the celestial realm.

In the bath, some of the battle fury began to seep out of my body, and the shaking in my legs went still. But when I closed my eyes, my mind flashed with images of the fight—the angelic sword slicing into flesh, through bones. When I’d fought the angels, I’d wanted more death, more blood. I’d wanted to hear the crush of bones under my sword’s steel, to feel the hot rush of their blood in my mouth.

Adonis seemed strangely fascinated by the fae, but he also thought we were savage beasts, driven by the worst, basest impulses. That we worshipped a lack of control. After he’d seen me dripping with angelic blood and gore, I doubt his opinion had changed on that front.

Reddened suds dripped off my arm. Maybe the Old Gods were sparking something in me—a complete rebellion at the presence of angels on earth. They didn’t belong here—not the horsemen, nor the angels. The earth belonged to the gods of nature, not these nightmarish, heavenly creatures.

I rinsed off the pink, bloody foam in the bathwater. My jaw clenched as a dim memory flickered in my mind—sharp, bestial teeth ripping into flesh. As I ran the soap over my legs, my mind whirled with images of blood that turned to something darker—blood dripping down a pale arm, streaming over the pavement. Dragons, maybe. I was remembering a dragon attack.

No wonder Drakon unnerved me.

I clamped down hard on the unwelcome memory, gripping the soap so hard my fingernails dug into it.

This was no time to lose myself in haunting memories—I might have an angelic horde coming for me. I rose from the warm bathwater, letting the suds drip off my skin. As I unplugged the drain, goose bumps rose over my body.

The shock of the cold castle air pulled me from my dark thoughts, and I stepped from the bath. I grabbed a towel and dried myself off.

In the stone alcove, I had a fresh set of clothes laid out, courtesy of Tanit—a wool dress that looked like it would fall just below my ass, and wool stockings that would reach up to mid-thigh. And apart from the boots, that was it. I’d asked for something warm, and that was what she’d brought me. At least she’d found something made of thick material.

Freshly dried, and smelling of anemones, I pulled on the woolen stockings, the fabric rough against my bare skin. The dark dress hugged my body, sleeves reaching down to my wrists. I pulled on the thigh-high boots, then slipped my sheathed knife into one of them—the leather loops making a perfect holster. I’d reapplied the Devil’s Bane poison to its blade.

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