He arches his brow at me, clearly refusing to discuss the effect of bullets on angels.
I give him a smug smile. You’re not as perfect as you look.
I walk over to the door and put my ear to it. “Is there anyone else in the building?”
“No.”
I try to turn the knob but it’s locked.
Raffe sighs. “I was hoping not to show excessive strength and raise suspicion.” He reaches for the knob, but I stop him.
“Well then, good thing I got us covered.” I pull a slim lockpick and tension wrench out of my back pocket. The soldier who searched me before tying me up did a fast job. He was looking for guns or bulky knives, not ski
“What’s that?”
I get to work on the lock. It feels good to surprise him with a talent that angels don’t have.
Click.
“Voila.”
“Talkative, but talented. Who would have thought?”
I open my mouth to make a smartass comeback, then realize I’d only be proving his point, so I stay quiet, just to prove that I can.
We sneak out into the hallway and stop at the back door.
“Can you hear the guards?”
He listens for a moment. He points to eleven o’clock and five o’clock. We wait.
“What’s in here?” I ask, pointing at the closed doors.
“Who knows? Supplies maybe?”
I start for one of the doors, thinking of venison or even guns.
He grabs my arm and shakes his head. “Don’t get greedy. If we raid them on our way out, they’re less likely to just forget about us. We don’t want trouble if we can avoid it.”
He’s right, of course. Besides, who’d be stupid enough to store guns in the same place as their prisoners? But the thought of venison makes my mouth water. Oh, I should have bargained for that stew while I had the chance.
After a few moments, Raffe nods and we slip out into the night.
~
We make a run for it, Raffe and me. My heart flip-flops in my chest as I pump my legs as fast as they will go. The air frosts from my mouth. The smell of soil and trees beckons us toward the forest. The trees rustling in the wind masks the sound of our pounding feet.
Raffe could run much faster, but he stays close.
The moon disappears behind clouds, and the forest turns dark. I slow to a walk once we’re inside the canopy, not wanting to smash into a tree.
My breathing is so heavy, I’m afraid the guards will hear it. The adrenaline rush of a run for freedom drains, and I’m back to being scared and tired. I pause, bending over to catch my breath. Raffe puts his hand on my back, urging me to keep going with gentle pressure. He’s not even out of breath.
He points deeper into the forest. I shake my head and point to the other side of the camp. We need to go around to retrieve his wings. My pack is replaceable; the wings and sword are not. He pauses, then nods. I don’t know if he knows what I’m after, but I know that his wings are never far from his mind, the way little Paige is never far from mine.
We skirt around the camp, going as deep into the forest as we can without losing sight of the camp. This gets tricky several times since the moonlight is so dim now, and the camp itself is mostly under canopy. I have to rely more heavily on Raffe’s night vision than I like.