Page 22 of Feathers and Scales

A Fallen’s punishment not only locked them in a family line but also seemed to force them to live the same life on repeat. And Izzy’s family had been full of money-hungry tycoons. Ones who knew nothing about her identity. Izzy couldn’t complain; being born into wealth had its perks, especially for her gaining the knowledge she craved.

Darcy’s heels clacked against the floor as she adjusted her weight. “I have more important things to do on a Saturday.”

The words jabbed like a needle. Countless neglectful mothers pounded at her memory. The compartment where she placed the pain of abandonment burst open.

“Why are you even here?”Izzy asked, knowing her voice didn’t break into decibels Darcy could hear.“And how did you find me?”

Darcy’s eyes swiveled to Izzy’s body. Her lips peeled back into an unrecognizable grimace. Ugly. Full of hatred. Izzy returned to herpacing, determined not to let Darcy get to her. But it was hard when an emotion-amplifying machine was so close. And the worst part was, she yearned to pull him back into the room. She wasn’t an addict who needed his self-assuredness or his protection. She’d survived many lifetimes without him around, and maybe he was part of the solution to her immortality problem, but she needed distance from him to recoup and figure out her next steps before the distraction of him became too much.

An eerie quiet tugged Izzy from her thoughts.

Darcy held a syringe with the tip stuck in the puncture port of Izzy’s IV.

Izzy froze.What the hell? Is—is Darcy intending to kill me?

“Take her down,” Darcy said in a trancelike monotone.

Izzy flew across the room and dove over her bed. Forcing energy to her spirit fingertips, she pinched one clamp on the tube closed. The resounding snap echoed in the room.

Izzy glanced up, spirit form hovering over her body.

Darcy stared at the floor, eyes wide as if searching for something she thought she’d dropped, sweat glistening over her tidy makeup. “What the—”

A piano ringtone interrupted her, muffled from within Darcy’s purse. Pulling the empty syringe free and capping it, Darcy swapped it for her cell phone.

“This is Darcy Andrews,” she said into the phone, bending to look under the bed.

Izzy didn’t move, panic restraining her mind. Darcy must have assumed the sound was something dropping to the floor.

“No,” Darcy said, lifting to a standing position. “I told Amid to handle it.” Seeming to give up the search, she peeled off her gloves and gave Camilla one last look. A malicious grin misshaped her face. “Sweet dreams,” she said to Camilla and left the room.

The clicking of her heels echoed the rejection in Izzy’s heart.How could she do this to me?Her breath hitched, and she leaned against her body, energy tingling from where she pressed into her flesh.She took a few calming breaths before she meticulously closed the clamps. That toxin wouldn’t reach her human body. But that was close—too close.

“You barely caught her actions because you were distracted,”Fotios’s raspy timbre filled the room—the constant reminder of her fractured mind.

Izzy felt a phantom splintering behind her eyes, a familiar dread bubbling up. Her throat closed, and the tears stinging her eyes further proved Fotios’s point. She couldn’t be logical around Daxton and her human body. At least, not yet.

“You can’t risk another fracture to your psyche,”Fotios whispered.“This link will surely lead to one.”

She nodded. Daxton may have answers, but at the present moment he was becoming more of a hazard than an asset. Distance would lesson his effect on her, and with a clearer head, she could tackle this predicament more safely.

Kneeling at the foot of the bed, she forced power into her hands, solidifying them to disarm the pressure sensor alarm used to alert nurses. She’d practiced on many systems to prepare for such an event, never knowing when she’d need to escape a hospital undetected. Once she disarmed everything, she rushed into her body.

Izzy jolted awake, clutching her throbbing stomach. Images of the Archfiend’s attack to Darcy’s attempt to take her life flashed before her eyes. This was the consequence of returning to her mortal body—she had to relive her spirit’s experiences.

She tingled with adrenaline, as if the Archfiend had manifested in the room. If Darcy was under the Archfiend’s Influence, her murder attempt and odd speech made sense.

Like demons, Archfiends made their victims drunk on their Influence to persuade and manipulate people into doing horrendous acts.They targeted those they could exploit to do their bidding, like addicts and loners. And Darcy had a money addiction. Izzy had to admit, it was a smart plan for the Archfiend, relying on her human mother to finish the job as no matter what hospital she’d end up at, Darcy would have access to her.

Izzy rubbed at the residual pain in her midsection, the cloth gown rough against her fingers. The trickling unease along her spine sank her thoughts into a sandpit. Not only did she have dragons on her back, but she also had an Archfiend who knew too much about her and would use anyone to his advantage.

Her hands fumbled about the blurred bedside table until she found the plastic frames of her glasses. She eased them on and gazed around the pristine hospital room, ensuring no one else had walked in. Ripping the tape from the back of her hand, the sensitive flesh stung. She withdrew the IV from her vein and pressed a tissue wad against the wound.

Careful not to disturb the wires attached to her body, she leaned over and searched through the nightstand next to the bed. Her emergency kit wouldn’t be far away, compliments of Simon. On the first shelf, she found a stack of clothing. Resting between the shirt and pants lay a burner phone, alcohol wipes, and a syringe.

She sentSOSas a text message to Simon, hoping he had understood why she told him to stay at the residence hall. Heart pounding, she turned the volume down on the phone and waited two breaths for the return reply.

ETA 15. ER.