Through Flame and Blade

Ch. 21 Hall of Envy

*Chiara

Chiara knew that walking through a hall of hell, openly, as an angel had to be the stupidest plan she'd ever heard, and here was the proof she was right: the party around them came to a grinding halt.

Logan muttered something about a problem.

"You noticed?" she replied.

A woman, human, began crying.

A demon reached with the back of his hand as if to caress her. "Lovely winged-thing, may I touch the feathers?"

Before Chiara could move back, Logan shoved him. "Touch my prize and you die."

Another demon moved, and Logan punched him, taking his huge hammer at the same time. Addressing the crowd, he hefted the weapon to underline his next words.

"This winged verbrekan is mine, won by my fighting. And none shall touch her or have her. Let it be known, the Wing-Cutter walks with his prize."

Everything he said was an axe falling on her heart.

His prize—she was chained to the wall again, a toy for him to play with.

Verbrekan—a thing of chaos, an abomination, a cross between demon and angel that should never exist. She was, wasn't she? A thing that should never exist—a weak, sinful angel willing to make any deal, sell any part of herself to survive.

Wing-Cutter. That was the worst.

He was, and always would be a murderer of angels, and her enemy. If she had any courage, she would put her sword through his back at that instant and rid the realms of him, avenging hundreds of her kind who perished only after he cut off their wings.

She couldn't do it, though.

In her heart, hid the truth. She couldn't kill Logan. She needed him too much.

Wanted him too much.

A magnificent demon wended through the crowd, taller than the others, larger even than Logan. Chiara tried to see past the external beauty of these warrior class demons, but it was no use. Except for the lack of wings, he could have walked into the Court of Stars and not a single angel would have blinked.

The new demon had no weapon, but that didn't seem to be a problem. "You should know, Wing-Cutter, that I desire what you possess."

"Fuck it all," Logan hissed under his breath.

"Wonderful," she snapped. The newcomer was obviously itching for a fight, and he wasn't the only one. "This hall is wrath, isn't it?"

Logan tilted his head towards her. "Envy."

They wanted what they thought he had....

Well, she wasn't available.

Killing demons was what she was made for—what she had trained years to do. She would not hesitate this time and she would not let them take her alive.

More weapons appeared in the crowd.

Logan growled and assumed a fighting stance. "Stay behind me, do not fight. You will draw them nearer."

Chiara scoffed. Who did this demon think he was to give her orders?

I wield the morning's light, sharp as winter's ice.

She lifted her sword. She would show them no pity and she would mow them down as an early frost destroys the field.

"Chiara," Logan whispered. "Don't—"