But the blast wasn’t quite enough. Forward momentum died out, and she was falling faster than she moved forward.

I flew to her, and she stopped firing her blast so she wouldn’t hit me. I caught her wrist as she caught mine, my normal Victoria strength boosted by flight alone, and then used a burst of Wretch-strength to hurl her back up and forward.

Plumes of darkness shot behind her to accelerate her approach.

But the haloed angel was rising, and I wasn’t in a position to help.

The beam came down, raking Ashley’s front. She used her power to blast up and into the beam, but it sent her tumbling down and off course.

She blasted again, aiming for the warrior’s chest, but it was a glancing hit. The blast extended out fifteen feet, and the warrior angel was roughly fifteen feet away. Surface damage.

I flew toward her. To catch her out of the air. The wing extended between us. A wall of hard light wrapped around whatever tinker alloys the mechanical parts of the wings were made of. I hit it, hard. I didn’t penetrate. Ashley was left to fall.

“Be ready!” Capricorn called out.

I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I remained ready.

The gas was heavy enough in the air to irritate my nostrils and leave my throat dry and scratchy, despite the humidity. I coughed, and I worried.

The wing had to withdraw, as capes mounted a more focused assault. As it did, I was treated to a spray of water.

Ashley, clinging to a wing, while Byron’s water sprayed her into the hard surface, her power helping to keep her there instead of falling. With the wing gone, she was left to careen in my general direction.

I caught her.

“Ah!” she grunted, as I seized her. “Gentle on the ribs.”

I adjusted my grip, lowering her down to the nearest safe ground, which was not that near. The warrior angel had its sword out, and it swung, only to be blocked by Stonewall’s shield. Had I been closer, it might have swung at Ashley and I.

I lowered her down to a sitting position. She’d been shot in the ribcage, along to the side, and one of her arms had been clipped. Flesh was burned and raw, ribs in one spot exposed and blackened.

“Small graces,” she said. “Bonesaw built me durable.”

“More durable than a human?”

“Reinforcements here and there,” she said. She winced at the pain. “She removed most of it because it wasn’t meant to last.”

The gas and sustained assault on ventilation were having their effect. Yellow-green gas flowed into intake vents, and gray smoke came out the outtake. The warrior angel wasn’t using its sword to blast anymore, only to swing and chop at cover. With one swipe, it knocked the catwalk down. Stonewall fell. His team dove into the rising water with barely any hesitation.

I was more focused on Swansong’s injury and the structure than on the mechs. Couldn’t attack anyway.