Yet, as much fun as it was, I knew I couldn't keep it up forever. Where the hell was Trsiel? As a last resort, I put my fingers in my mouth and whistled as loud as I could. As I did, the Nix sprang to her feet. I kicked. Her hand shot out, grabbing for my foot. I managed to abort the kick just as her fingers grazed my ankle. I danced away, out of reach of that iron grip.
"You think you're clever, don't you, witch?" she said. "But the harder you hit, the harder I'll hit back. Haven't you learned that yet?"
She lunged for me. I sidestepped out of the way, pivoted fast, and aimed a roundhouse kick at the back of her knees. My foot connected with a crack and she dropped to her knees.
As I kicked again, the Nix ducked in time, then grabbed at my foot, getting just enough of a grip to pull me off balance. I twisted away and rebounded with a side kick that knocked her into the wall, dirt raining down.
"You want the amulet, witch?" she said. "You keep it. I'll go the other route. Less satisfying in the long run but-" She smiled. "Temporarily, perhaps very satisfying indeed, if done right. So why don't…"
She flew at me, hoping to catch me off guard, but I veered out of her path and wheeled to face her again. Running footsteps pounded in the tunnel. Trsiel. Finally.
The Nix started an incantation. A portal, or so I assumed. But the words sounded familiar… and I didn't know any portal-opening spells. It didn't matter. Whatever she was casting, I wasn't about to let her finish.
I spun and kicked, but the Nix backed out of my way. She lifted both hands, then fluttered them down. A spell with hand gestures? Had to be sorcerer magic. As I readied another kick, she stopped casting. I braced myself, but nothing happened.
"As good a spell-caster as a fighter, I see," I said… and dropped her with a front kick.
Trsiel flew through the doorway. I was off to the side, up near the door, so when he came through, his back was to me and all he saw was the Nix sprawled across the floor.
She lifted her head.
"Trsiel!" she said. "Look out! Behind you!"
He swung around, sword raised. Then he saw me and stopped.
"Trsiel!" the Nix shouted. "It's her. She cast a glamour spell."
Glamour? Oh, shit! That's what the Nix had cast. A sorcerer glamour spell… to make herself look like me. A protest flew to my lips, but Trsiel's sword was already sheering toward me, too fast for me to say anything… or to dive out of the way.
At the last second, our eyes met, and his filled with horrified realization. He tried to stop, but the momentum of his swing was too great and all he could do was divert the sword's course, swinging down away from my torso.
The blade hit me in the upper thigh. I heard an inhuman scream, then felt the sound ripping from my own throat as the pain-the indescribable pain-tore through me. I pitched forward. Trsiel dove to catch me. The sword clattered to the floor.
As I fell, I blacked out, coming to only as another flash of agony knifed through me. Trsiel's arms tightened around me as he lowered me to the floor. His mouth opened, but I heard only the sound of my own screaming. Behind him, the Nix was running-not at us, but off to our side. I blinked, then comprehension hit.
"Trsiel," I gasped. "Sword. She-"
He shot up just as the Nix dove for the sword. Too late to grab it, Trsiel kicked it aside and threw himself at the Nix. He caught her by the shoulders and they went down.
I struggled to focus on them, but pain pulsed through me, each throb bringing a split-second blackout. I fought to stay conscious. Across the room. Trsiel almost had the Nix pinned, but she wriggled out of his grip, rolled, then darted toward the sword. Trsiel took her down again.
I forced my body to turn, and tried to see the sword through the flashes of darkness. There! By the door. Biting my lip, I managed to push up on all fours, then stumbled toward it. When I was still a few feet away, I felt my limbs tremor, threatening to give way. I threw myself forward, onto the sword. I felt the heat of it burn through my shirt. Then everything went dark.
I awoke in something like a bed, soft and comfortable. Trsiel leaned over me. I struggled to sit, but white-hot pain forced me down again.
"Nix," I whispered.
"Gone," he said. "She teleported out as soon as I had a good hold on her."
"Amulet. Found-"
"It's right here."
"Good. Wh-" I gasped as fresh pain ripped through me.
Trsiel's arms went around me, one sliding under me, and his hands moved up to my neck. I gasped again. His hands were nearly as hot as the sword. As soon as his fingers touched my skin, the pain ebbed. He massaged the back of my neck, and I slowly relaxed into the bed as the pain gave way to soft waves of soothing heat. I felt myself drifting toward sleep, only dimly aware that he was talking. I struggled to listen, but could make out only the hypnotic sound of his voice as he reverted to his angelic tone.
"Better?" he whispered.
"Ummm. Getting better."
A soft chuckle. "I'll keep at it, then." His voice sobered. "I can't tell you how sorry-"
"S'okay."
I stretched, then lifted my head and looked around. I was lying on a divan. He'd pulled up a chair beside it. Both were big chunky pieces, postmodern furniture, more comfortable than they looked. Two more chairs flanked a fireplace, and another two were by a window overlooking a cityscape. Art gallery and museum posters decorated the walls. Across the room was a floor-to-ceiling bookcase, crammed to overflowing, with books shoved into every space and more piled on the floor underneath. On my right, magazines covered a low-slung table.
"Your room?" I said.
He nodded. "Not much like the other angel quarters, is it?"
I picked up a copy of Entertainment Weekly. "Not much."
His cheeks heated.
"I'm teasing you," I said. "Your room is much nicer. That other one? Kinda creepy."
He gave a soft laugh. I continued flipping through the stack of magazines. Some, like Time and National Geographic, I recognized. Others, I wasn't even sure what language they were written in.
"I suppose this answers the question," he said, sweeping a hand around the room. "Though I'm sure you already knew it."
"Hmm?"
"What Dantalian meant. About me. His… insults. You said you didn't know what he meant, but I know you do."
I flipped onto my back and looked up at him. "That you're part human. Or so he says."
"He's right. Which you also know. Not that I can prove it." He swept a lock of my hair off the pillow, fingers sliding to the end, his gaze fixed on this diversion as he continued, "I told you I'm from the last group of full-bloods. The Creator-He saw problems with the older ones, the first angels and even the seconds. As the world grew, they couldn't keep up. They went from thousands of years of watching over hunters and gatherers to a world that seemed to change every time they blinked. When we-the last group-were created, we were taught to immerse ourselves in the human world-to keep up with its traditions, its language, even its fashions, so that we could better understand those we served."
"Then that's the explanation, isn't it? The training. Not that you're part human."
He shook his head. "That's the rationale, not the reason. We all know it. Some of the older ones try to be more like us, and some of us try to be more like them, but it doesn't work. The difference goes deeper."
"So you think the Creator gave you some human blood? To make you more human?"
Trsiel released my hair from his fingers and nodded. "And when Dantalian brought it up, I saw my reaction, and I hated myself for it, for what you must have thought of me."
"I don't-"
"What a hypocrite, right? One minute I'm telling you I see nothing wrong with humans, and the next I'm flying into a rage when some demon accuses me of having human blood." He shook his head fiercely, eyes blazing. "What a damnable-"
I pulled myself up. "I don't think you're a hypocrite, Trsiel. I saw how those other angels treated you. That's the problem, isn't it? Not having human blood, but having them think you do."