Demon Kissed - Katie May Page 0,107

his arm hangs at an unnatural angle.

Raz isn’t looking much better, though unlike his friend, he’s still able to stand. Hideous gashes mar his beautiful face, and dried blood clumps his sandy blond hair to the side of his scalp. Pain radiates from his eyes as he hisses out a breath, slowly lowering himself to the nearest armchair.

“Angels,” he answers bitterly, pain causing his face to crease. “We thought it would be simple surveillance, but they were expecting us. I don’t know how they even knew we were coming. Five against two. They got us from behind. And with…” He trails off, throwing his head back and closing his eyes.

“Is it because of your Center?” I ask hesitantly, volleying my gaze between a still unconscious Kastros and a grimacing Raz. As if my body has a will of its own, I lower myself to my knees beside Kastros’s humongous form and take his hand in mine. I swear his eyes are moving rapidly behind his closed eyelids as he tilts his face in my direction, almost as if he can’t help himself. “Are you vulnerable because of your Center?”

When none of the guys answer my question, choosing instead to exchange wary looks, I swallow down the sudden lump in my throat.

“It is because of her, isn’t it? She’s causing you guys to get injured, when before, you would’ve been perfectly fine.” My conversation with Arariel comes to the forefront of my mind, and I find myself voicing something I never thought I would say. Something so unimaginable that I feel physically ill just for even thinking it. “Maybe you should take care of the problem.”

Did I really just suggest that the guys kill their fucking Center? What the hell is wrong with me?

All I know with vivid clarity is that I won’t be able to live with myself if anything happens to these guys. Call me dramatic or young or whatever you want to, but in the short time I have known them, they have imprinted themselves on my very soul. Embedded themselves into my genetic makeup.

And seeing Kastros covered in a myriad of hideous bruises? It only solidifies the fact that I can’t lose them. I refuse to. It’s completely selfish—probably the most selfish thing I’ve ever done in my life—but I’ll do whatever it takes to keep these demons alive and well.

My demons.

“Are you seriously suggesting what I think you are?” Zolroth’s voice is rife with heady disbelief.

“M-Maybe you guys should leave,” I stammer out. “Go back to Hell, or whatever. It’s obviously not safe for you here. We don’t know where the she-demon is, and—”

“Katrina,” Raz all but growls, sitting up straighter in his chair and leveling me with an unreadable look.

“—I need you guys to be safe. I can’t stand to see you hurt.” Tears emerge in my eyes as I stroke Kastros’s cheek—the one part that’s not covered in bruises or scratches.

“Katrina!” This time, Raz’s voice reminds me of thunder disrupting the night’s tranquility. I whip my head around to face him, and I can’t help but note how tired he suddenly looks. How broken. Vulnerability peeks back at me before he shoves the emotion away, expression turning impassive. “Katrina, there’s something you need to know.”

“What?” I demand, scrambling to my feet. I feel like this is a “stand and glare” type of conversation instead of “kneel and weep.” “Seriously, what?”

None of the guys will even look at me. Van glares at the far wall, lips tense, and Akor shoves a hand through his pink mohawk, causing the strands to become wildly disheveled. Zolroth looks physically pained as he stares intently at my face, almost as if he wishes to memorize it.

“You’re our Center,” Raz confesses at last, and I swear you could hear a pin drop in the silence that follows. My heart judders wildly before bottoming out, hitting the deepest pit of my stomach. Time stops as I stare into Raz’s dark eyes, waiting for him to laugh and tell me it’s a joke. Waiting for him to roll his eyes at me for believing him in the first place.

Waiting, waiting, waiting.

It’s not true; I know it’s not.

I’m a human, for fuck’s sake, and they’re demons from Hell! I’m not their mythological soulmate or whatever the fuck it is.

I can’t be the one who did this to them.

“Wh-what?” I stutter out at last, willing him to tell the truth.

He sighs heavily, sliding a hand down his face before scratching at the stubble on