Free Out in Blue by Sarah Gilman

Wren. This is what’s on the table. I’m done chasing after you; consider yourself free to go. What I planned to do to you, I’m just going to do to Raphael instead. You know, I’m amazed how many nerve endings archangel wings have. Fascinating biology.”
    Another choked sound of pain in the background.
    “Get your fucking hands off him—”
    “However, if you give yourself up and come here, I will let Raphael resume the comfortable life he’s had for the last eighteen years.”
    Comfortable. Right. But anything was comfortable compared to Lark’s torture methods.
    “Wren!” Raphael yelled, hoarse and strained. “ No . Stay away—”
    The plea cut off with the gut jerking sound of breaking bone, followed by keening. Wren broke out in a cold sweat and went so numb, he no longer felt the wind.
    Lark returned to the phone. “Tell you what, Wren. In a show of good faith, and because I want him alert when you get here, I’ll leave your father alone to heal that wing. A broken wing will take a couple days to knit, even for an archangel.”
    Wren shook. “God damn you… God-fucking-damn you…”
    “I’ll contact you with a location to meet my men. If you don’t show at the appointed place and time, Raphael will lose his wings entirely.”

Chapter Eight

    The multiple showerheads hung from the ceiling in the very center of the large bathroom. No shower walls. Just tile and open space. Like everything else in the house, the room was perfect for a being with wings. As Ginger hunted around for a way to turn the water on, she heard Wren’s muffled voice from outside, his angry tone drawing her attention.
    She hurried out through a set of glass doors onto a small balcony and heard another shout.
    “Lark, damn it. Answer me!”
    Lark ? She looked down—wary of the lack of railings—and saw Wren on the deck below, alone, holding her cell phone to his ear. His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear the words over the wind unless he raised his voice.
    He dropped to his knees, his wings splayed out behind him.
    She stayed rooted in place. Was Lark the one who’d been calling her cell phone? Since the police were cooperating with Lark’s men, getting her number was plausible.
    “Father!” Wren shouted, his voice thick.
    Oh God … Ginger covered her mouth with her hand. Lark really did have Raphael. Alive, from the sound of it. Nausea swept over her. A Guardian… Lark had been a Guardian. How could he do this to the archangel he’d taken a blood oath to protect?
    Guardians assigned to personally serve an archangel swore to do so at the expense of all others, forsaking their own lives if need be. Lark would have made that vow. Would have been one of the most capable and trusted among the Guardians to have been assigned to an archangel…especially one with a child.
    What the hell had happened to cause this madness?
    “What do you want from me, then?” Wren’s furious demand reached her ears, chilling her more than the wind. Ginger imagined the answer to that question and cringed. Lark wouldn’t be dangling Raphael in front of Wren for any reason other than bait. Panic welled up in her chest. Wren couldn’t turn himself over to that madman. No …
    Ginger sucked in a deep breath. Yesterday, when she’d overheard the poachers’ plans to attack Wren, she’d helped because she’d thought it was the right thing to do. It was different now. More than just her conscience, this time. Even though she could count the hours she had known Wren, the idea of him getting hurt tore her up.
    She reminded herself that she was leaving for Alaska tomorrow. Also, despite the chemistry she thought thickened the air around them, Wren had turned away from her when she’d tried to kiss him. What she felt was one-sided. Grateful for her help, he was just making sure she got back to Haven safely by bringing her here. Her opinion on how he dealt with Lark probably wasn’t wanted, but she had to say something.
    Wren got to his feet