starting to shut down in panic, in an attempt to protect me, going blank and white, like it used to in the months after my car accident. There were days where I’d miss chunks—just have zero recollection of entire afternoons—and I can feel my mind teetering on that abyss again.
No!
I can’t black out. I have to get away. I have to save the guys. The fingernails of my free hand dig desperately into my palm, attempting to zap my brain back to functional status with pain. It works. Barely. I’m still operating in a semi-daze.
I hardly have time to gasp and glance toward the emergency exit door before Kastros unfurls his dark wings and wraps them around me, shielding me from view and encasing me in shadow. His leathery wings are soft and cool as they slide along the exposed skin at my back. They soothe away my panic and allow me to think clearly, which just allows me a second to get upset.
Because shielding me isn’t a solution. I’m the problem. As their Center, I’m the demons’ Achilles’ heel. I’m a weak point for them, since they can only be mortally wounded when I’m around, which means that damned scythe can’t just hurt me. It can do worse. It can hurt them.
That thought punches my heart so hard that it skips a beat. When it staggers back up, I shove at Kastros’s wings.
“Get me out of here!” I whisper frantically at my silent demon.
I hear Raz snark with confidence, “Don’t worry, princess. We’ve got you. This stupid little bleached-blond pigeon won’t touch you.”
I hear a stranger’s low, dark chuckle.
Van’s voice comes from nearby. He pitches his tone low, the warning hushed. “Katty, if we leave, the rest of his flock will be waiting. Right now, it’s one versus five.”
Shivers start to rack my body. Dammit. We’re trapped. I can’t watch one of them get hurt! I can’t!
That asshole has a scythe! A fucking knife the size of the crescent moon that’s shining through the gym windows! It is flipping huge! And my guys have nothing!
My eyes dart side to side, and my breath comes in short gasps. When I hear the rip of fabric and the thwap of four other sets of wings unfurling around us, I start to shiver.
They’re going to fight. I can feel it in my bones, the same way I could feel that this stranger was a real angel.
I can’t even watch the gory scenes in horror movies.
My eyes squeeze shut for a second, and I send a quick thought towards my baby brother, Adam, who is currently harassing some babysitter with wooden trains and Paw Patrol figurines so I can attend this dance. I hope he’s okay. My teeth scrape over my bottom lip, and I stop short of praying, because I’m pretty sure I’m not on God’s good side anymore.
Fuck me. Does the devil help?
Could I try to summon Lucillania and make a deal with the devil? That might backfire… Okay, no help then.
When I crack my eyes open, I harden my resolve. I have to get out of here. It’s the only way for the guys to be safe. Even if more angels are lying in wait…
An unnatural scream tears through the gym and echoes. Next door, idiot students cheer, thinking the spooky sound effects got one over on them.
But those aren’t sound effects, and I can’t tell if that scream came from one of my demons or the angel.
I put up a hand and shove Kastros’s wing back, desperate to see if one of my guys is hurting, despite the fact that I only know CPR for Adam’s sake and I’m the most useless member of our group. My giant demon clamps down harder on my wrist and pulls me back against his chest before he lowers his wings so I can see a little.
The small gymnasium, which is usually relegated to the girls—because Lakewood Prep is sexist like that and makes the girls’ teams practice in the room with only three rows of bleachers so they can get used to a non-existent audience—does not look like a gym anymore.
It looks like Hell. There is no ceiling, only a vast stretch of blackness. I see a tornado of blood whirling in the corner, and my free hand automatically reaches back to clench around Kastros’s waist as the blast of wind splatters me with blood. His free hand comes around my torso, just under my breasts, and secures me to him. The