Angel of Fire - Chasing Destiny - Book Three ***COMPLETE!!!***

Let's Fly

Chapter 31

"Chaos stop!" Vycandor shouted to get my attention. "I'm trying to have a conversation with you, but you're making it impossible. How do you know your feelings for him are even real? This guy waltzes into your life and suddenly you can't get him out of your head. Have you ever stopped to consider why that is? It's not real. Me and you...what we have is real."

I kept right on walking, doing what I do best.

I ignored him.

And, anyway, he was probably just going to keep trying to convince me that I was making a huge mistake. But I knew differently. Saving Thomas was not a mistake.

A sound of frustration erupted out of his throat. "Chaos, you must stop this madness at once, or so help me..."

I choked back a laugh. He was clearly not enjoying the ever increasing need to utilize tactics meant to quell my hidden feelings for Thomas.

Not that it was even possible, of course.

The eternity bond I'd just formed with my soulmate did little to change the fact that I was still in love with someone else. But that didn't mean Vycandor was going to stop trying to convince me that I belonged to him.

"Don't you think it would be easier to fly than to walk all the way to Kalamazoo?" he announced, switching gears in an effort to appease me.

Shit.

He was right. Not that I was willing to admit that out loud. Truth be told, I'd forgotten all about my newly restored wings, even though I never bothered to put them away. When I whirled around to face him, I nearly tripped over the flaming tendrils dragging on the ground behind me.

"Here, take my hand," Vycandor offered, extending out an arm invitingly and waiting for me to take it. "Close your eyes. Where we're going, we don't need roads."

Something about those words seemed oddly familiar. Uncertainty written all over my face, I refused to hold his hand. Or close my eyes. Not because I didn't trust him. More like because I knew he was even less of an aviation expert than I was. When it came right down to it, my wings – awesome as they may be – didn't come with flight instructions. I was clueless as to how to use them.

And so was he.

The idea that he actually wanted to help took me by surprise. I mean, one minute he was trying to talk me out of going on a rescue mission, and the next thing I know he's trying to be my wingman.

But why?

It was obvious he was trying to hide something from me. I just didn't know what.

"Chaos, we're wasting time," Vycandor urged. "I didn't say anything before because I didn't want to frighten you, but there's only so much time a person's body can be cryopreserved before revival is no longer an option."

And there it is.

Anger replaced uncertainty in the blink of an eye. "Are you trying to tell me that you froze Thomas without knowing if you could unfreeze him?"

He shook his head. "No, that's not what I'm saying. It was necessary for me to place Thomas in a state of regenerative sleep to allow his body time to heal from the substantial wounds he suffered. Wounds I imagine were the result of him being attacked by Tormentors." Vycandor paused before adding, "The problem with continued low body core temperature is that it creates the perfect environment for viruses and chronic infections to run rampant, which can eventually lead to a gradual cellular death if he is not thawed soon."

"Great, just great. So not only is Thomas a sitting duck for the Angels of War to invade the castle and force feed him your heart, but even if we do manage to rescue him in the nick of time, he might not survive being turned into a giant ice-cube. This day just keeps getting better and better."

Vycandor's green eyes darkened as he stared me down. Clearly he didn't appreciate the sarcasm that leaked into my voice.

Too bad. 

I suddenly found myself wishing I'd paid more attention in biology class. His explanation seemed true, or at the very least he seemed to believe it was true. And based on my limited knowledge to say otherwise, I didn't have much mental wiggle room for doubting him. But that didn't mean I wasn't going to try. Besides, having the last word in an argument was one of my specialties.

"Just so you know," I began, leaning close and focusing on those liquid green pools of intimidation. "I will never forgive you if you fail to revive him."

Cherry red lips drawn in a severe frown, Vycandor looked even more menacing than normal, making me think I'd seriously just crossed a major line. 

Without waiting for his reply, I stepped back a few feet, then ran directly toward the edge of the road where caution signs warned of a steep embankment. Shaking off my fear of heights, I stretched out my wings and flapped. The muscles in my chest and shoulders burned as I moved the smoke filled wings up and down and then faster and faster, fanning the feathers until they were once again completely engulfed in deep orangery-red flames. Wind whipped at my face as I rounded a row of treetops, making it hard to see past tears stinging my eyes from the cold wintry touch.

A dark shape raced past me and did a loop-de-loop against the backdrop of the milky sky.

"Last one there is a rotten egg," Vycandor called from somewhere up in the clouds.

"Last one my ass..." Picking up speed, I sailed with the breeze all the way to Kalamazoo. It only dawned on me then that although I may have figured out how to fly all on my own, but could I manage to land without breaking my neck? Because, immortal or not, that would seriously hurt.

With the twinkling lights of the city spread out before me like a lighted quilt, I guess there was only one way to find out.