Storm and Fury

Page 35

Zayne’s wings swept in from the side, folding over me and blocking out Misha, the garden—the entire world.

“Holy crap,” I gasped, falling back against his chest. I couldn’t see anything. I was in complete darkness, like...like I was blind. A knot of bitter, raw panic formed in the back of my throat.

“Listen to me.” Zayne’s breath stirred the hair around my ear. “It’s not safe for you to go charging across the garden. There could be more humans with guns.”

“I can’t see,” I whispered, trying to get air, but the knot was expanding in my throat.

“There could be more bombs,” Zayne continued as if he hadn’t heard me. “I can’t have you running off.”

“I can’t see,” I repeated, chest rising and falling heavily.

“You’re fine. You’re—”

“I can’t see!” I shrieked, scratching my throat.

His wings flew open so suddenly that my vision didn’t have time to adjust. I winced as the bright light hit my eyes. I blinked several times, my vision focusing just as Misha scrambled over a stone sitting wall.

“Trin,” he exclaimed. His face was covered with soot. There was a red smudge under his nose. “Are you okay?”

“She is,” Zayne answered, dropping his arm from my waist.

I pulled free and met Misha halfway. “How’s Jada? Ty? Thierry and Matthew—”

“They’re okay.” His gaze shot to Zayne. “What happened out here?”

“They came in—humans,” I told him, looking over my shoulder. “They came in with guns, firing, and I killed one of them.”

Misha cupped my face, his gaze searching mine. “Did you...?”

I knew what he was asking. “No, I didn’t.”

“Good.” He dropped his hands, turning to Zayne. “She shouldn’t have been out here.”

That statement caught me off guard. “He didn’t make me come out here. I was out here by myself and we ran into each other.”

Misha glared at Zayne like all of this was his fault, which was ridiculous, and right now, his misplaced anger wasn’t important.

“What in the Hell just happened? They were humans,” I said, pointing out the obvious. “But I felt—” I stopped myself before I blurted out that I’d felt a demon. As a human, that was impossible.

Zayne stared down at me, his hard, brutal face calculating. “Felt what?”

“I felt scared,” I lied, whipping back toward Misha. “Were there demons?”

“No, just humans,” he growled, turning to Zayne. “Were there any demons out here?”

“No.” Zayne was still staring at me, his heavy wings twitching and stirring the air around us. “Just humans.”

“But there could still be demons,” I said, clutching Misha’s arms.

Misha got what I couldn’t say. I could feel them. They were near. He nodded, and I let go of his arm. “I don’t understand what happened here.” I shook my head, stunned as I turned back to the Great Hall. I didn’t even want to think about how the humans got past the walls. They were always guarded, and that meant...

That meant there were dead Wardens.

17

Misha had taken me back to the main house, and it was just us. I was pacing the length of the foyer, still in the stupid gown, but I had rushed upstairs to grab my blades just in case.

“Where is Jada?” I asked, stomach churning.

“I think she went with Ty to his place to lock down,” he said, standing sentry by the front windows. “I know she’s safe, Trin. As soon as the guns started firing, she shifted, as did Ty, and then he made her leave with him.”

A little bit of relief seeped into my tight muscles. “And you’re sure Thierry and Matthew were okay?”

“Yes. The only injuries I saw were very minor.” He glanced over his shoulder at me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. Just scratches.” I passed him, the skirt swishing along my calves. “I can’t believe they were humans working with demons. I thought at first they might be those Church of God’s Children people, but if they hate Wardens, why would they work with demons?”

Misha’s back was rigid. “Because those idiots don’t realize demons are real. They’d be easily manipulated by demons or by anyone who provided them a chance to dole out violence against us.”

That was true, but...

“But they were wearing the masks, Misha.” I shuddered. “The same masks Clay was wearing and...and Wayne was killed by a demon nearby. The scouting party said there were no signs, but they were obviously wrong. And I can still sense demons.”

“I told Thierry. They’re looking.” Misha turned from the window. “Something is definitely going on.”

Understatement of the year.

“Where do you think Thierry and Matthew are?” I asked, stressing like a...like a human.

“They’re probably at the walls.”

The walls were less than a mile from here, and the Great Hall was in between. There were several football-field lengths separating the main house from the community and the other, much smaller wall, but if the demons or wayward, idiotic humans made it here, to this house, they’d run through this community like a blade through tissue.

Most of the Wardens here, besides those who guarded the walls and trained the classes, weren’t skilled warriors. There were more women and children than men, and due to the ridiculous, sexist as Hell structure, female Wardens weren’t trained.

Not even Jada.

I turned, pivoted on my heel and then stopped as the siren went off again. Misha and I stopped moving, stopped breathing, as we listened. If it went off twice, it was the all clear. Three times meant bad, bad news.

The siren blared once, twice, as the familiar oppressive feeling settled on my shoulders...and then a third time before casting the large, rambling house into eerie silence.

A chill swept down my spine as I turned to Misha. In the bright light of the foyer, his reddish curls looked like autumn flames. “The demons are here.”

“They are.” The pupils of his bright blue eyes began to stretch vertically. His jaw was hard as he turned to the large iron-cast doors.

In all the years I’d lived among the Wardens in the Potomac Highlands, there’d never been a breach, let alone something like this.

A tremor coursed through my arms as I walked toward the door, finding it unlocked.

“Trin, don’t—”

I opened the door and dark night air rushed in, sweeping over my bare arms. “Do you really think a door is going to stop them if they make it this far?”

“It would at least slow them down.”

The cold cement of the porch chilled my feet as I stepped outside. I could hear nothing. Not even a bird or the chirp of an insect, as if they could sense the unnaturalness in the air.

It was quiet—too quiet as I stared over the driveway lit by the powerful floodlights and beyond, into the darkness no light could penetrate.

“Can you see anything?” I asked.

Misha came to stand beside me at the top of the steps. Even if my eyes weren’t crap, his vision would still be a million times better than mine.

“I don’t see anything,” Misha reported, glancing down at me. “Except that dress. You could’ve changed. All a demon is going to see is your—”

“Shut up,” I grumbled.

“You know, maybe you should go to the wall,” he went on. “Pretty sure if any demon saw you in that dress, they’d think twice before trying to lay siege.”

I shoved him. “You’re stupid. Zayne said I looked like a goddess.”

He snorted. “Really?”

“And he said I looked beautiful.” I elbowed him this time.

“The same guy who didn’t kiss you back? The same guy I warned you to stay away from?” Misha shoved me back and I bumped into the railing. “You think I wasn’t going to bring that back up?”

I rolled my eyes. “Now really isn’t time to lecture me about that. Why don’t you wait until we’re not under siege by humans and demons?”

He sighed. “You should go back inside, Trin.”

I ignored what he said, as I did most of the things he ordered or bellowed at me. “Do you think Jada is okay?” I asked for what had to be the fifth time.

“She’s with Ty. I’m sure she is,” he reassured me yet again. “Besides, all the homes have panic rooms just in case something like this happens, and that’s where you should be, but that’s not happening. They’ll be fine. All of them will be.”

Unless the demons breached the walls and laid waste to the community, burning the homes like I’d heard had happened to a community west of us several months ago, and those panic rooms hadn’t saved them all. Some of the panic rooms hadn’t withstood the abnormal fire the demons had wielded.

“And if that happened here?”

I closed my eyes as a shudder rolled through me. “This is my fault.”

“What? No, it’s not.” Misha’s response was quick, almost too quick. “This is not your fault.”

Feeling the burn travel up my throat, I shook my head. “But it is. I got caught off guard by Clay and bled all over the place, Misha. I used my grace when I should’ve just run—”

“If you hadn’t used your grace, you could’ve died.” Misha’s warm fingers touched my cheeks. “I could’ve died. You protected yourself. You did everything you could do.”

Opening my eyes, I met his gaze. Under the porch light, his eyes were pools of midnight blue. “Why do you always have to sound so logical?”

Misha lowered his head so we were eye level as his thumbs slid over my cheekbones. “Because you’re always so illogical.”

A ragged laugh parted my laugh. “That’s a fair point.”    

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