When We Were Still Human by Vaughn Foster (best ereader for textbooks .txt) 📕

book, and the Mark on her arm throbbed. A heartbeat later came a spark. It was followed by another, then another, until the fiery chains of the stone gate loomed above. It was the same gate that had appeared in Le Ciel. The gate that barred her from the Spirit World.

Avia was surrounded by darkness, yet was still in the circus. Behind her was the void, and behind that, her body. The imploding world had been a hallucination. The circus was still standing, but there was so much noise. Everyone was screaming. Flames poured from her physical body and lit the tent on fire. Patrons shrieked and ran for nonexistent exits. The ringmaster coughed on smoke before a fiery support beam crashed on top of him. Gemini was frantically yelling at the Sin of Wrath’s empty vessel and also at one another. Freya and Freyr were no more than charred corpses.

Turning back to the gate, Avia, in her spirit, stepped forward. Her physical body advanced past Gemini. She reached out and brushed her fingers against the door’s massive central lock. To her surprise, instead of throwing her back, the lock and chains disintegrated. A shimmering tunnel of white appeared before her spirit. An identical passage opened in the corporal world. Avia stepped over the threshold, and both worlds snuffed out like a candle.

Chapter 24

Val carefully took in the study. She had closed her eyes as the darkness washed over. When she opened them again, she was lying on a plush rug before a blazing fireplace. Small torches hung along stone walls in emerald sconces. Her first thought was fire hazard. Numerous bookshelves lined the room, and the floor was paneled wood. However, as she craned to see the arched ceiling, she saw that runes pulsed within the stone. Spells of protection; spells of silence.

She passed the sofa to the massive double doors, but found them locked. Turning back, her eye caught on a bust stationed beside the frame. It was a man’s head, equipped with a sharp goatee and indifferent eyes. Something about the figure sent a shudder through her. She crossed back to the hearth.

Her gaze fell on the crystal globes stationed across the mantle. They were identical to the cyclops’ eyes. Everything in her screamed to pull away, but she couldn’t. A deep, alluring sensation tugged her near. The first orb did nothing. She touched it again and was met only with cold glass. Disappointment and relief filled her lungs, but she couldn’t stop. She moved towards the second globe.

Colors swirled in the center of the sphere until an image took shape. The picture was of a mountain. Scaffolding and construction materials jutted from the rock far past what Val could see from her angle. She squinted into the glass in effort  to see more of the structure, but the image didn’t move. When she finally pulled her hand away, the scene vanished.

Creasing her mouth, she tapped the next ball and gasped. A girl, maybe sixteen, kneeled on a tiny stage in nothing more than her underwear and a leather collar. Beside her, a man in a dark suit gripped a leash. Rows of formally dressed men and women held numbered signs across their laps.

The man tugged the leash and the girl stumbled into better lighting. Val’s throat went dry at the sight of them. Wings. Beautiful, iridescent wings like those of a butterfly. The man holding the leash said something to the crowd. The signs began to shoot up.

Val stumbled back from the mantle and the picture disappeared.

“Please do be careful. Everything here is unimaginably expensive.”

At first, she couldn’t place the voice. Out past the glass terrace doors, she finally spotted the figure. When he didn’t continue speaking, she cautiously stepped closer. He didn’t seem like an immediate threat. He had his back to her and was sipping clear liquid from a glass. Even still, Val readied her claws for the slightest movement.

“Lust is safe.”

Val paused at the mention of Vladimir before moving beside the figure. He was taller than her, but not by much. He had a toned but wiry build like that of a runner. What struck her most was his age. Behind an exquisite dark suite and serious disposition was a teenager no more than eighteen.

“Where is he?” Val found herself asking. In all honesty, Vladimir hadn’t been the first thing on her mind. After the betrayal in the cave, his wellbeing was by no means the most pertinent. The question was just what came out.

“Right outside the room. I wanted to talk.” Instead of talking, however, he stared out past the balcony. Val followed his gaze. Wherever they were, the building was perched along a beach. There was no moon or starlight. Torches lit the ground level, but darkness swallowed the world past their light. Waves of an endless ocean caressed the sand as they pushed their way to shore.

“You’re American.” When he didn’t respond, Val wondered if she had only thought the words. She was about to repeat herself when he laughed. It was a light noise that didn’t touch his face. While common sense told her his ethnicity was the least of her concerns, there was something comforting in being around someone from her own country; her own world. She’d been met with Vladimir’s blending tongue and smooth Ynsri accents since waking up in Le Ciel. The stranger was the first American she’d heard since Avia.

“I go through all the trouble of bringing you here and that’s the first thing you notice?”

Val flashed to her conversation with Dove. “So, you’re... Raven.” This was the creature that had been after her, even before the Mark.

“The Angels lie,” he sang in response. “And you are their fifth transgression.” Val knew that she should be afraid but couldn’t physically conjure the fear. She was tired of being afraid.