Creche (Book II of Paranormal Fallen Angels/Vampires Series) by Karin Cox

Cruxim blood. I washed away the sour taste of vengeance denied with another sweet sip of Haemil. It made me shiver, but I felt some of my strength returning with it. The blood warmed my arms, and I felt a little of my exhaustion fade.
    Kisana set the goblet down. “Peace, Amedeo.” Her tone was wistful, as if she knew my thoughts, and perhaps she did. “You should rest. There will come a day to smite them, a day that is coming soon.”
    “Not soon enough.” My hands, still knotted behind my back, clenched with the need to kill. “It is nothing, sister. I am just tired and a little cold. My fingers are numb.” I wiggled them behind my back and she leaned close to see.
    “The binds are tight,” I said, wincing for effect. “My circulation is suffering.”
    Kisana glanced around for the guard, who was still distracted with the goblet of Haemil. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I cannot remove them for you, Ame, it would be a crime, but perhaps I might loosen them just a little.”
    She moved behind me, and I clenched my fists as she tugged at the buckles. When I heard the faint grate of metal as the buckles slid from their notch, I flexed my biceps and clenched again, leaping to my feet.
    “Amedeo!” she whispered in panic as the silver buckles, only half-tightened, failed. I drew my arms up above my head, wrenching my wrists apart and flapping my wings until my leather bonds split and fell away. Freedom rushed with the blood back into my arms, and I immediately bent to tear at the straps that held my feet.
    My sister watched me sadly, but she made no move to alert the guard, nor did she follow me as I slid out of the other corner of the tent, seeking the safety of the skies.

    I knew they would not let me leave. My bodyguards would be upon me soon enough, but like a hare to a fox I was determined to exhaust them in the chase. With a shudder of my wings, I leaped onto the boulders that had formed the passage into Silvenhall Crèche. Finally, I had found Cruxim like myself, yet still I did not belong. My wing beats battered my body back against the cliff as I rose into the air and wheeled away from Silvenhall and from its disappointments.
    I had flown for not half an hour before they intercepted me, ten of them. They bore down on me swiftly with Skylar behind them, begging for leniency. Daneo was the first. A team of darker-haired angels followed, their capes fluttering around them so they looked like a murder of crows descending on a skylark. I fluttered on the wing and spun, soaring away, but I had no hope of escaping them. My wings had not healed enough, and I was weak, having drunk only a little of the rich Haemil.
    “You dare to leave against my orders?” Daneo’s enormous white wings clawed at me and sent me spiraling downward. Another Cruxim followed, battering me with feathers and fists.
    “I believed I was a guest,” I answered haughtily. “I did not find the hospitality to my liking.”
    “A guest,” another spat.
    “Yes. Skylar invited me.”
    “She should not have.”
    “No, she shouldn’t. That is why I left.”
    “Now you know of Silvenhall.” Skylar’s voice in my brain was calm. “ They will not let you leave until they are sure you will not reveal its location. I brought you to Silvenhall by many different paths, that it might confuse you and placate them. But you were right: I should not have brought you here.”
    “Then I am to be made prisoner again?” My heart wilted at the thought.
    “Yes—until I can convince them you will be their salvation and not their ruin. We will meet with the Council tomorrow.”
    “I am no one’s salvation.” I wheeled again. “ You saw what happened to Danette, to Joslyn and Sabine. I was their damnation.”
    “And you may yet be ours,” Daneo snarled.
    I growled back, “Perhaps you might avoid that by treating me more courteously.”
    It was an affront to him, and I expected retribution. Daneo rushed at me again. A well-muscled Cruxim helped