A Beautiful Evil (A Beautiful Book. 1) #Wattys2015

Chapter Twenty - Heaven's Incurgency

The Arizona sun is so bright I can see it from behind my eyelids, though it's not as warm as I expected. I assume it has to do with it being December, but I don't spend much more time thinking about it.

Creaking my eyelids open, I sit up when I realize Charles and Avery are nowhere to be found; their sleeping bags empty and unmade. But then I hear recognizable voices from outside.

"What makes you think I can't kill it?" snarks Avery, his voice thick with annoyance.

Charles hearty chuckle fills the air. "Because you don't have the skills. Or a bow, hot shot."

"Stop calling me that."

"Why? Because you're afraid Mara's going to look at you different?"

"No, because it's a stupid ass nickname."

Charles snorts, aggravated. "Bullshit. We both know it's Mara. You still have feelings for her after you broke her heart. How ironic."

Uh oh. Flinging the covers from my body, I snag my clothing from the floor, pulling the stiff fabric over my arms and legs as fast as I can. Soon, grunts and scuffs seep through the thin walls of the tent, and I slip my shoes on. I jump out of the tent, hands in my hair, trying to secure it into a messy bun at the base of my skull.

Charles and Avery are rolling on the ground, a mess of arms and legs throwing clouds of brown sand into the air. Avery pins Charles, his hands sliding around his throat and squeezing hard. I gasp when the boys begin to shimmer, as if caught in a mirage, and their forms begin to alter.

There's a silent explosion, soundless but with all the tension that comes along with it. Electricity seems to crackle through the air, making the hair on my arms stand on end. Avery's hands tighten around Charles neck, desperate to knock him out before he Shifted. But it was too late.

Charles rocked from the ground, hovering over us a few feet. It was the first time I'd seen him in his True Form, and I couldn't contain my awe.

At first glance, you would think he was human with giant wings. But the more intently you study his features, you'd realize that his cheekbones are a little too pointed, and the bridge of his nose is a little too defined. Giant, onyx wings framed his shoulders, flexing and tightening, keeping him stationary in the air. His blonde hair seemed to turn into liquid gold blowing softly in the wind. Piercing blue eyes glared down at Avery with new flames of anger I haven't seen in Charles. Ever.

Lightning cracked in the sky, and I gasp. I never knew Charles could do that, but I guess it made sense. He was the Horsemen of Conquer. He was Antichrist. Even his wings were a symbol of what he was, who he was. He was the Duke of Fallen Angels.

Fallen Angels were something I'd only heard of, never seen. Father always told me in lessons that they were some what of the Secret Services of Hell, just a thousand times more unpredictable. "They're mad," he said. He locks them away in Charles realm, and let's him deal with them. Father said that it's their past experience in Heaven, the little taste of bliss, that drives them mad. The fact that they knew what they once had and lost it. Looking at Charles, I can't help but wonder... Do they look like him?

"Do you really want to do this, Brother?" hisses Avery, his skin blackening as the words slither out. I can see the tips of his snake like fangs emerging from his top gum. He's Shifting too.

In response, Charles takes the bow off his back, training one of the arrows on Avery's chest. His face is hard, unyielding.

My heart is hammering in my chest. I know they can't kill each other, but they'll still tear each other apart. "Avery!" I shout, my voice high and squeaky. "Stop antagonizing him!"