suffer is to have him watch Katrina’s face grow distraught and then disgusted. Maybe the best way to hurt him is for him to watch her walk away, knowing that there’s absolutely zero chance in Hell that she’ll ever turn back.
And after he’s suffered through that delightful round of torture… I crack my knuckles. I’ll have at him a bit before I let Akor turn him into ribbons.
29
Katrina
Ali flashes me a sugary sweet smile as she turns on her blinker.
My legs are pulled up underneath me, my seatbelt tight against my chest, as she turns onto her desired street.
Outside, the sky is an inky blanket, the monotony of darkness broken apart by twinkling silver stars. A fine layer of fog engulfs the ground and trees as we crawl along.
Ali reaches for the bottle of alcohol in the cup holder, and I just barely restrain my eye roll. I’ve told her time and time again that she shouldn’t drink and drive, but does my nanny ever listen to me? No. She promises me that she’s not drunk, but I can see the glaze in her hazel eyes and the downwards tilt of her lips, almost as if it requires too much effort to lift her facial muscles.
And then the darkness is ripped apart when a large, shadowy figure jumps in front of the vehicle. I scream, panic squeezing my heart in an iron vise, as Ali jerks the steering wheel to the right.
Directly towards the line of trees.
For a brief, brief moment, I can see my life flash before my eyes. I always thought that was an urban myth, something that was written about in stories and talked about in movies but not necessarily true.
But as the tree trunk fast approaches, eerily resembling a shadow monster, I think about Mom and Dad. Adam. My friends.
My head careens forward, saved only by the detonating airbag, and then I think about nothing at all.
My heart judders in my chest as I jerk in a pair of strong, corded arms.
“Shhh.” The voice is familiar, as is the hand petting my hair in slow, soothing strokes. “You’re okay.”
“Raz?” I blink rapidly, attempting to dislodge the remnants of sleep from my eyes, as his arms tighten around me.
It’s only then that I notice where we are. Mainly, in the fucking sky.
In every direction, I can see an endless canvas of metallic gray, highlighted with pink streaks. It’s dark enough where I can’t see anyone down below—and they can’t see me—but I can decipher Raz’s arresting features. Currently, his brows are furrowed and his lips are pressed in an unrelenting straight line.
For a brief moment, confusion has me squinting up at him, struggling to understand what transpired.
Breaking into Heaven.
Finding the map.
The fight with the angels.
And…
The familiar haunting pain grips me and refuses to release its hold.
Kastros tried to kill me.
That one thought reverberates through my head as Raz’s face grows somber, no doubt sensing where my mind went.
“Baby…”
“I just want to go home, Raz,” I reply stiffly, wishing desperately I had thought to bring a jacket. Goosebumps dust my arms, though I know it’s not entirely because of the cold.
A muscle feathers in his jaw, but he doesn’t push me.
His wings expand, allowing a particularly strong air current to make him careen forward, until we’re spiraling towards the ground below. I cling to him like a spider monkey as the ground rushes up to face us, but before we can splatter, Raz beats his wings once, twice, three times, and we glide gently to the ground in front of our house. I know that Adam will be inside with his babysitter, Sasha, and right now, all I want to do is cuddle my little brother and forget about the rest of the world. Forget about Kastros’s betrayal, which is sizzling my blood and turning my heart into liquid.
But the world is a cruel, cruel place, and before I can make my hasty retreat, four large, mammoth figures touch down in front of me.
Automatically, my mind flashes back to the same hulking shadow descending in front of my vehicle. How the hell did I ever mistake it as a bear or animal?
The porch light is on, illuminating the bruises and abrasions on Kastros’s face. I should feel a surge of satisfaction, but I don’t. I can’t. I can’t muster up anything besides a numbness that makes me shiver.
“Walk away from my cherry,” Akor growls menacingly, reaching into the waistband of his pants and procuring a…sword? Why the fuck