Page 61 of Of Bone and Ash

“What the hell do you want?” I ask, wanting, no, needing to get back to Teos and Adam. I’m pretty sure Neva will keep Adam safe, so I’m not that worried about him, but Teos is another matter. I know from high school that Teos has no idea how to fight or protect himself. He’s strong, fucking strong, which makes him great on the field while playing football and rugby, but put him up against a Demon by himself, and he won't stand a chance. My only hope is that they’ve left my friends alone now that whoever this is has separated me from them.

“You,” he says so casually I almost laugh.

“Me? Why? I’m really awful company,” I add, trying to keep him talking so I can figure out where he is.

“I’m sure. Unfortunately, you are who I need. So I’m going to ask kindly for you to come with me,” he says, sounding serious. I frown and spin around again.

“Just like that? No, I have free candy in my van. Do you want a piece?” I ask, catching a slight movement to my right and smiling. Gotcha motherfucker. “You’re the worst kidnapper in history,” I add, slowly stepping toward the movement.

“Yes, well. That’s not a title I’m attempting to acquire,” the man drawls, and I grin.

“Pity. It's the only one you’ll be getting since I will not be coming with you.” Holding my hands out, I shove every ounce of Demonic magic I have at the spot where I just saw movement and grin when a body writhes and then falls to the ground. “You know, if you would just leave the school alone, you wouldn’t have had to die,” I murmur, a strange feeling burning in my chest as I walk toward the now-still man. Pain echoes in my chest… the thought of killing him is almost painful, which doesn't make any sense! I can feel his soul leaving his body and reach a hand out, letting my scythe slowly come to life so I can collect the soul. I take another step, then another, growing as I get closer. The soul feels off, not like the man had the last time I saw him, but maybe it's because he’s part Demon?

“I didn't even know your name,” I muse out loud, knowing Atlas will be upset that I didn't acquire that information before killing the man. Rubbing at the weird ache in my chest, I fist my shirt in my hand as I walk over, then toe the dead body with my foot, making him flip onto his back, and then I freeze. The man in front of me is definitely a Demon, but his odd green skin and small horns resemble nothing of the man I met last night.

“It’s Darius,” the voice says from directly behind me, making me spin, my scythe already arching up to deliver a deadly blow. A big hand catches the handle of my scythe just above my own as I come face-to-face with the man I saw before. His gray eyes with rings of red, his dark obsidian hair streaked with burgundy highlights, and his sharp jawline dusted with dark hair.

Fuck. This guy looks like some kind of model who just stepped off the cover of Hell GQ. He’s wearing the same tight, black clothes that form perfectly to his broad chest and arms, with heavy black combat boots strapped to his feet.

“And neither of us will be dying today, my dear,” he hisses between clenched teeth, frustration clear on his face as he tries to pull my scythe from my hands.

My eyebrows raise at his fucking audacity. Does he really think he’s taking my scythe from me? I laugh, letting the handle go as I release my magic, allowing it to fall into the ether, the black and silver dust almost sparkling as it falls between his fingers. The heavy blade of my sword forms in my hand as I shift, then using his surprise to my advantage I bring my blade to his neck.

I watch in smug satisfaction as he swallows hard, slowly looking away from his hand which used to hold my Scythe, to look me in the eyes.

“I’m not your dear. And how the hell did you touch my scythe?” No one but the Reaper the Scythe belongs to can call on it or even hold it in their grasp. Technically, my sister-in-law can touch Gabriel’s scythe since she possesses a shard of his magic, but she’s never been able to hold mine, and I can't touch his. The fact that this Darius guy can pisses me off more than I can say.

“I forget that female Reapers have the ability to conjure more than a scythe,” he muses, ignoring my question and not appearing the slightest bit afraid for his life as I keep my sword pressed firmly to his neck. “You did have the sword before,” he adds, frowning like he’s disappointed in himself for forgetting that fact. “How many weapons can you conjure?” he asks, then grins, arm coming up so fast I growl in frustration when he knocks my arm back and twists away from the sword. I step forward, pressing my favorite dagger to his side as I move my sword in front of me protectively.

“Enough,” I answer, not wanting him to know the full arsenal of weapons I can call upon.

“Fascinating,” he murmurs more to himself than me, eyes lighting up with interest as he stares at the dagger pressed to his side. “You’re not going to kill me.” Scoffing, I press my dagger more firmly to his side, trying to weigh out the benefits of killing him now or collecting information before killing him.

It's scary how fucking good-looking he is, but if I’ve learned anything over the last few years, it's that the prettier the face, the uglier the monster that resides within.

“I don't have time for this. Where am I, and where are my friends?” I ask, trying to stay calm. There is this weird tug to step closer to the man, an urge to be near that I can’t seem to dispel, making me more frustrated.

Darius looks down at me, his brow furrows before he nods, and suddenly, magic cords around my arms and legs, weaving into a tight cord that has me almost paralyzed. Panic races up my spine, making goosebumps erupt over my skin as my magic immediately comes out to combat it.

“You are coming with me,” he announces, running his hands down his sides before pulling his hands back and tsking when he sees a small dot of blood on his finger. “That was rude,” he chides before turning on his heel and walking away from me. “Secure her and bring her to my wing in the castle. Carefully,” he instructs as six men I hadn't seen step forward, their hands outstretched, muttering words I can't understand under their breath as a weird yellow-colored magic winds up and around my body.

I quickly take in their towering height and broad shoulders before I see tails and small horns on the crown of their heads, and I grind my teeth. Motherfucker brought Demon back up. Well, too bad. I’m not going to be the next dead girl added to the growing list at this cursed school.

Smiling, I give a simple nod before a black flurry of wings and magic descends on the Demons. Blue magic spills from Morana in a wave of destruction, making the Demons scream in pain and causing Darius to spin back to look at the chaos my pretty little bird is causing. That's the thing. Morana is made purely of Demon magic, and she can use it far better than I ever have. A range of emotions cross Darius' face as he watches Morana fight the Demons. It's almost like he’s been stunned into silence, the screams of the Demons echoing around us as I let my magic build in me and slowly sever the bands that hold me hostage.

Finally, as if something has kicked Darius back into action, he stumbles forward, fury painting his expression as he strides toward his men. One of the Demons breaks free from the blue magic circling them, his hand raising, glowing yellow as he finds Morana in the air above him.

“No!” I scream, but it's overshadowed by Darius’ roar of anger as he blasts his own Demon with a wave of deadly red magic, sending him flying back into the tree behind him before he can hurt my feathered friend. Morana dives at the other four Demons, attacking them, yet Darius doesn't move to stop her as I finally break through my bindings.

“Morana!” I yell, calling her back to me as the cold black material of my cloak forms around me, whipping out in a circle as my fingers wrap around the silver hilt of my scythe before lunging for Darius. He has his scythe up to block my blow with an ease I wish I could replicate, his gray-red eyes burning with rage that hadn't been there before.

“Don’t!” he snarls at the five remaining Demons when they move forward to assist him. Morana flies overhead but does as I mentally instruct, staying clear of Darius, only to intervene if necessary. “She’s mine,” he growls, making the hair on my arms stand up as the red of his eyes bleed into the gray until all that’s left are glowing pools of burgundy. He spins his scythe, dislodging my blade, and I step back as he presses forward, his blade making a long swinging arc from his hip that holds a strength I know I won't be able to stop. I jump back and spin, narrowly avoiding the deadly blow, and move for his open left side, conjuring a blade to ram into his ribs. I snarl in rage as he parries the blow, moving with unnatural speed, his next strike aimed at my belly.

Sweat dots my brow as I use my magic to jump, twisting up and over him, trying to land behind him and deliver a deadly blow. But he’s too fast, following my move, catching me before I can land on my feet, and yanking me hard into his chest.

“Stop fighting me!” he demands, hands pinning my arms to my sides.

“No!” I snap, then headbutt him, making my vision black out. Darius curses, his hands releasing me as they move up to cup his now-bloody face. Fuck, I hate doing those. No one wins with a headbutt, but if I have the advantage, I can break his nose while only giving myself a horrible headache. His blood drips down my face as I stumble back with a grin.

---