Darkened Soul (When Watchers Fall) by C.G. Blaine

Author:C.G. Blaine [Blaine, C.G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gray Page Books LLC
Published: 2020-04-23T16:00:00+00:00

I rush to follow Chaz into the bathroom, where he’s setting the amulet Rosdan gave him on the counter.

“I have to get to Nyla. Hex knows where she is, and if he—what are you doing?”

His shirt hits the tiled floor, and he’s unbuttoning his jeans. “I’m going to scrub off the camper”—he pushes them down and straightens up, stepping out of the legs—“and then sleep. Unless you want to…” He gestures toward the shower.

My eyes travel down his body, but instead of taking him up on his offer, I hold my wrists up, knot out. “At least untie me.”

He turns on the water. “No can do. You’re a runaway risk.”

Then, he steps into the shower, and a second later, the curtain separates us.

I sag against the counter, exhausted on every level. Nyla would have loved tonight—three Fallen in one room together. She would have willingly been restrained for it to happen too. If I could, I’d trade places with her in a heartbeat even if it meant I was down to my final life.

I stare at a loose thread on the black tie Chaz found to use when we got back. “Can I ask you something?”

He doesn’t answer at first, but then a bottle snaps open. “You’re going to anyway.”

“Kasdaye and Armaros—”

“Cass and Rosdan,” he corrects. “Modern names for modern angels, baby.”

“They’re your brothers, right?” I only pause a second before I rush through the rest in case he tries to cut me off. “Look at everything they’ve done for you these past few days. To protect you. Nyla and I have always done that for each other, and she’s helpless right now. If it were Cass or Rosdan stuck in a bed and unable to defend themselves, you’d do whatever you could. So, it’s not fair to ask me to just sit here when Hex could lead Abaddon straight to her. He’ll use her to try to get to me, and then—”

Chaz pops his head around the shower curtain, his wet hair dripping down his face as he nods at his jeans on the floor. “Get my phone.”

I drop to my knees and pull it out of the pocket. He’s wiping his hand on a towel hanging by the tub when I hold it up for him. He shakes his head, tapping one-handed, and then he tosses it onto my lap before disappearing behind the curtain again.

My eyes fall to the screen and the message he just sent to Whipped One.

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