Page 240 of Psycho Devils: Aran's Story 2

Blood welled and dripped from the normal-looking wounds, but two black Xs appeared over their heads.

I grinned and darted back in front of Luka protectively.

The angels snarled with frustration, and their eyes darkened. They both disengaged their swords and locked onto a new target. Me.

They had nothing left to lose.

It was pure retribution.

Everything played out in slow motion—I couldn’t move because I had to protect the human behind me.

I stayed in place.

Zenith and Vegar lunged on either side of me and tried to parry the attack, but the angle was awkward. Their swords slowed the descent but didn’t stop it completely.

One ice sword slammed into my stomach, and the other stabbed my thigh.

I bit down on my tongue, and copper flooded my mouth.

A black X appeared over my head.

They shoved forward with all their might to try to get past me.

I didn’t move.

Dug my toes into the dirt and widened my stance.

Luka grabbed my shoulder and started to try to pull me behind him.

I shoved forward out of his grip.

“No!” I shouted. “Stick to the plan. This is the plan.”

Luka released me but let out a trail of creative expletives that would make the most hardened soldiers blush, something about Zeus, a firebolt, and a man’s ass.

Vegar and Zenith slammed their swords at the angels and took a step forward out of position.

I shook my head and yelled, “The plan!”

The demons fell back.

For what felt like forever, the angels tried and failed to draw blood from Vegar and Zenith. Sweat poured off the angels’ faces as they growled with frustration.

The demons grinned through their black ink masks.

They were completely unfazed and fought like their swords were extensions of themselves. It was wicked.

Finally, the angels realized they were wasting their time fighting against men they wouldn’t beat. They swore and ran off.

“The plan is working,” I croaked as I pressed my palm against the wound on my thigh.

My fingers were drenched in blood.

“The plan is idiotic,” Luka growled.

Something rustled behind me. Then he was gripping my thigh with both his hands and wrapping his sock around my wound. I grunted as he tied it tightly and created a tourniquet.

It felt like the air had dropped ten degrees, and I shivered. “Th-Th-Thanks.”

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