In The Crossfire

Chapter 1.5

The green-eyed Seraph too effortlessly blocked the kick. Grabbing my leg with ease and shoving me back. The only thing that hit him were the harmless water droplets flung from my foot at the abrupt motion.

I lost my balance, stumbling back a few steps. Despite the lost footing, I threw the blade still in my hand. The Seraph was remarkably fast. The blade grazed just a hair past him before sticking solidly into the tree behind him.

"Not bad," he said with a dreadful calm, almost matter-of-factly. His lip curved up into a smirk. Green eyes watched closely, no doubt collecting information about me. He easily noticed the way my gaze darted over his features and barely strayed toward the surrounding woods. The way I searched for an advantage, a way out of this while still unbound by the shackles he wished to place. He simply watched, as if waiting for something.

The Seraph made no move to end the struggle, though we both knew he could. He was a higher angel, a being deadly and strong. I was nothing to him, just a measly human.

My halfling status only helped me to sense his kind. That was mainly all it was good for. Maybe I was a little stronger than the average human girl, but that wouldn't help me now. My heart thundered against my ribs like a hummingbird's wings against a brutal wind. The tips of my fingers went numb with the adrenalin coursing through me.

The temperature outside was quickly dropping with the rain. If I was not so amped up, then I would have been shivering. 

Each muscle in my body coiled, ready to spring, to act. Not once had I dared to look away from the enemy while my mind raced to find a way out of the situation I found myself in.

The Seraph stood still, almost as if giving me space to think while rain pelted his perfect body. His shirt was dark and thin, clinging to every curve of muscle on him. It was like he was chiseled from stone by gods and given emeralds for eyes. An old ancient strength moved through him, a sleeping beast waiting to be awoken. There was a blade hanging at the Seraph's side, intricately beautiful, matching the one who wielded it. An angel blade would have been a quick way to end our encounter, yet he made no move to draw the weapon. If he had, without a blade of my own, I would have had no moves left.

Why didn't he draw his weapon?

It didn't matter.

If I was to have any hopes of getting away, I needed that blade. It alone could cut through their flesh and prevent them from healing too quickly.

I flung myself at him.

The Seraph stopped me with his body. Hard muscles refused to give to my movements.

Bringing my leg around his, I shoved.

He actually fell. Seraphs were always better with wings, but in forests they often had to fight on their feet, and they were not as stable on them. I grew accustomed to using that to my advantage. Usually, it worked half the time. However, I had limited experience with higher angels. This Seraph was quick to swing his leg around while on the ground, slamming it into my own with an incredible force, and I went down beside him.

We wrestled on the ground, in the puddles of water between the blades of grass. For a moment, I thought I saw a smile cross over his perfect face. His green eyes appeared to shine even brighter, if that were possible. Somehow, I managed to push myself away from him. With a bit of space between us, I got on my feet again.

He rose as well. His movements were smooth, fluid-like.

The space between us didn't last.

I lunged again. His eyes seemed to widen in surprise as if he expected me to run from him now that we were no longer interlocked on the ground. But I knew better. There was no way I would get far with him in pristine condition. I also knew the Seraphs were not here to kill us, just to collect us. So I didn't have to fear him killing me. At least he wasn't supposed to. The only thing I had to lose was my freedom, which was everything.