Chapter 11: Michaela

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Cain's hand on my cheek was both the worst and best thing in the universe. It carried the scent and feel of a comforting fireplace on a dreary day. I leaned in to rest the weight of my head in the cup of his palm. Just a second, I told myself, one moment to recover.

The blue fire, tucked away underneath my sleeve, scintillated up my arm. The tantalizing sensation drained every bit of energy I had left, but the demon's warmth brought solace, which could be nothing other than an indication of how derailed I was.

Cain didn't seem to mind. "You saved my life, angel. Thank you," he whispered.

His vocalized gratitude pulled at my heartstrings, even more so because it was undeserved. I hadn't accomplished what I was supposed to do. I used my sleeve to brush some dirt and dust from my forehead and smirked. "I didn't find the child, Cain. We have to find the child."

He struggled to his feet with a groan, his hand first using my shoulder for support and then stretching it out to help me stand up. "We have five more days. We will find it."

"Four and a half days, if we even have that long."

In truth, I wasn't terrified that we, but that I, didn't have that long. The blue fire bit and stung the insides of my skin. I had no clue what it would do without a pair of wings to heal it. Demons seemed to recover from it. Grigori was left with a scar, but apart from that, he was every inch the overpowering, overtowering demon he had always been. But I was not a demon. I was an angel, and this blue fire was eating me alive.

"All we need is a rest. A quiet place where we can catch a breath and devise a plan." Cain scrubbed the back of his head, assessing the catastrophe around us. A trainwreck. Grimy children crawling the debris in search of their friends. The unconscious teacher on the tracks. Her skirt with flower pattern ridden up to her thigh ripped pantyhose uncovering her bruised knee. Her blonde bun, disheveled and torn, the loose strands plastered to her smeared cheeks.

I squatted next to her body and felt her wrist for a pulse. To my relief, the blood in her artery was pulsing at regular intervals. "We have no time for rest," I said to Cain while lifting her knee to turn her into a safe recovery position. "What if Grigori finds the child first? Or keeps on wreaking havoc like this until he finds the child? And what if ..."

What if I die... is what I thought but I didn't finish that question. He already thought I was incapable. I wasn't going to tell him I couldn't hold my own.

"Let's discuss that someplace else." Cain pointed towards the fresh badge of first responders rushing onto the platform and tugged me in the direction of the tunnels by my elbow.

I winced at him touching the spot contaminated with blue flame. The tendrils were expanding their territory, no doubt. Noticing my reaction, Cain backed off. "A bit touchy, little angel? Don't worry, this filthy demon won't lay a finger on your divinity again." He mocked me with a played reverence, then pulled his hood up and clenched his jaw in genuine pain-in-the-A Cain fashion. "Now, since I'm leader of this cozy assembly, let's just follow my lead, shall we?"

He shot down the track with those fast, deliberate strides of his, the little skirmish with his brothers already forgotten. The cylindric walls of the tunnel dripped with moist and cold. I hated the underground but hurried to catch up. I'd rather walk beside than after him. He might be the leader, but that didn't mean I had to be his puppy.

The autumn wind gushed mercilessly through the open shaft, cutting my face and chilling my bones. I hugged myself, but no real warmth came from it. The festering ache in my arm absorbed all the heat my body was able to produce.

"What's wrong? Has our little angel run out of happy thoughts?" Cain sneered.

I put on a brave face and grinned. "That was to be expected at the rate I was throwing those around."

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