in one, the guys almost died, and I was almost taken.
Memories of the Vestibule battle plague me as our racing steps crunch on gravel. We skirt around the mansion, heading through a side gate, in the direction of the cemetery.
Time seems to be breathing down the back of my neck, and I’m not sure if that’s just the guys’ anxiousness I’m picking up on or if it’s something more pushing us to hurry. All I know is, I didn’t have the same automatic physical reaction that the guys had. I didn’t feel whatever alert they got that let them know the Gate had been breached. But I do feel something.
Echo and Crux are both slightly ahead of me now too, and I push to catch back up. Iceman still leads the way, and Jerif is just slightly behind me to my right. I feel like his placement is strategic, and it puts me on edge even more.
I expect my lungs to start burning at any moment in protest, and for my legs to feel overworked with each running step I force them into, but they don’t. I’m surprised when my body doesn’t seem to have any reaction for my running at all. Yay for my new demon body sans blocks. It’s as if I’m on a leisurely Sunday stroll instead of possibly sprinting to my death.
I shove that thought away. No one is dying, not on my side of things anyway. The guys and I will be fine. I’ll make sure of it this time. A thrill of anticipation moves through my wings, as though they’re agreeing with me. I know I’ll need every ounce of physical prowess that I have tonight so that I can protect the Gate, the guys, and myself. The problem is, I haven’t exactly test driven this body in battle yet, so I’m not sure what I’m working with.
I clutch my scythe even tighter, hoping it will help guide me and stay glued to me like it did during the battle at the Georgia Hellgate.
“Go faster,” Jerif barks at everyone, like we’re not running at Mach Cheetah pace as it is.
I shoot him a glare over my shoulder, but he’s unfazed as he pushes us on, his flame-colored hair nearly glowing in the moonlight.
“This is as fast as I go,” I defend.
“Then dig deeper,” he retorts. I want to snap back something smart ass or surly, but instead, I try to do exactly what he says. We all dig in for that extra burst like Jerif’s impatience is a whip at our heels.
“Move it,” he orders harshly, implying that we’re just lollygagging along, making me grit my teeth. Even though his demanding voice suffuses me with anger and frustration, those are emotions I can latch onto. Those things, I can mentally handle—and that’s probably why he’s doing it. He’s making sure I’m focusing on him, on the things I can control, instead of letting my mind come up with all the awful possibilities of what we could be running into.
He’s annoying as fuck, but I need the distraction. I hate that I need it, but I do.
I know I signed up for this. I know that this is part of what being a Hellgate Guardian is all about. Defending the Mortal Realm against unauthorized demons is exactly what my new life entails, but even knowing that, there’s still no way to prepare for it. This is happening right now, whether I want it to or not.
“Don’t stop,” Jerif snarls at me, like he knows the directions of my apprehensive thoughts. If I weren’t so focused on not tripping and eating it, I might be able to send him a grateful look for bolstering my confidence in his own special asshole-ish way...or I might have just told him to fuck off. My irritation and appreciation wax and wane when it comes to the scowling lava demon beside me, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
We finally reach the fence line for the cemetery, and all I can think is that whoever created that whole no portaling within a mile of the Gate should be punched in the balls. We all stop, silently observing everything around the wrought iron gate, agitation and worry pushing out of us with each exhale.
Everything is quiet.
“What—”
Echo holds a finger up to his lips to signal silence, and at the same time, I see the dark tattoos on his pale skin start to drip down his arms. The dark wisps coalesce