down at Mina, scrunching my nose, and curling my lip. She blinked prettily like she expected me to fall for her act.
“Get the fuck up,” I ordered. “Liaison Michealson will heal your… weakness.”
She tried to hop up, but pressed down on the floor with her wounded arm and fell back. Her cries moved some of her friends, but they paused, eyes flicking up to look at me. I waited a moment, then waved my hand, allowing them to help her. A tiny twinge of guilt pinched inside of me, but it quickly dissipated when an image of Kian flashed across my mind.
Mina stood, then hesitated before straightening her back and taking sure steps towards Grace. She held her arm out before her, supporting it with her good hand, and shed no more tears. The evidence of her earlier crying remained on her cheeks, glistening and damp beneath the lights. An infinitesimal grain of respect floated to the bottom of my well, and I spun as she passed me.
“Careful,” I murmured.
Her eyes cut to me, but she didn’t turn or acknowledge that she’d heard me. Still, she slowed for the last few feet and bent her head. Not a bow but nevertheless a sign of respect and likely the best we would get from this Angel. Mina extended her trembling arm, and Grace took it, closing her palms over the already severely bruised surface. It appeared to be broken, but that didn’t slow Grace. After a brief golden glow, she let go of Mina’s wrist and backed away.
As Mina twisted it around, rubbing it with her free hand, Grace spoke softly, instructing her to be cautious because it may remain sore for a little longer. Mina nodded, then turned on her heel, her eyes scrutinizing me. My skin crawled, and I marched towards her. She blanched and stepped aside, allowing me to pass without slowing.
“Let’s go. We have too much to attend to later to waste any more time,” I snapped.
The sounds of booted footsteps behind me tugged at my lips, urging me to smile, but I flipped up my hood instead. Inside of it, I could hide my genuine reactions until I could regain my control over myself again. I’d grown too lax, but I’d learned from my mistake. In my world, one could be kind, but unless they could wield fear just as often, they would become carrion, a thing for others to pick over. I’d forgotten that somehow, but it wouldn’t take much to remind everyone else that I only played at being tame.
Chapter Sixty-Four
“Hush, Grace,” I ground out, making the monumental effort to keep my tone civil and speeding up into a trot.
She didn’t listen. Instead, she ran, her shorter legs having a harder time keeping up with me.
She puffed, but I evidently hadn’t pushed her hard enough because she still had the breath to say, “But I’m trying to help you. If you continue to behave that way towards the Angels—”
I stopped in my tracks, and she passed by me, but turned and jogged the few feet back to me.
“I’ve told you fifty times already, I do not care what the Angels believe they can do to me. Those Angels are under the command of the OMIEB, under me. That means that I have the authority to treat them any way I see fit. Maybe your society coddles you and pets your hair when you sneer at your superior, but mine punches you right in the mouth until you learn not to do it again.” I mimed strangling her because she just did not understand how our world worked, and I’d grown frustrated long ago.
“But—” she started.
“No, Grace. If I’d done that, I would have had my soul ripped away from me. Or worse.” She grimaced, but I waved a hand. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is someone out there doesn’t fear my retaliation, and that was my mistake. I’m more than grateful for what you did for Kian, and I don’t want to make you believe otherwise. That said, I’m not asking for your advice or permission on how I behave. I’m aware of what the Angels think, and I can imagine some of the actions they will take. I’m far less concerned with them than the possibility of another attack on the four of you.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it, nodding. I took that as the end of the conversation and brushed past her.
Moments later, she murmured, “Fear always morphs into hatred.”