Page 31 of Torn Between Two Worlds

“Shh. It's me. Shush.”

The sound of Stryder's voice made her cry. He was okay.She didn't know who to thank for that, and she grabbed onto him. His hands briefly wrapped around her, and she held him. The familiar voice came across the room as he was checking her body over for injuries.

“Listen up, demons. It's time to say hello to the Initiative. We've decided it was time to shut your little party place down. And, yes, it will be a blood bath. Yours, not ours, as we have ways and information to take you all down.”

He didn't need to say his name. She knew the voice from the other day. They were determined to take her down.

Uniformed men and women swarmed the bar. She wanted to stand, to try her powers, but in a blink, she was standing in a kitchen. An unmarred kitchen with an adorable blonde standing over a stove cooking what smelled like stew.

“Fasheem!”

Stryder's bellow caused her to jump, but the entrance of the beautiful warrior made her gasp. There was no real resemblance between the brothers, except their beauty, and she didn't have time to appreciate his jet-black hair and eyes before they exchanged a look and flashed out.

She jumped off the floor and slammed her hand on the table, pissed that she had been left behind. As the blonde looked at her, guilt replaced the anger.

“Damn you! You can't do this! You can't leave me and run to fight!” Cursing Stryder when he was gone was pointless, but at least he didn't get to talk back.

“Forgive me for interrupting, but if you're the female Stryder bragged about to his brothers, then I'd say you best get used to this.” She smiled and stuck out her hand. “I'm Jessica. Fasheem's wife.”

She nodded. She knew who she was from the small section in the book on her. “Not to be rude, and forgive my outburst, but I'm not from here. I shouldn't be left behind.”

Jessica gave a good laugh before sitting at the table and gesturing for her to do the same. “They'll be back. They always are, but for now, let's just you and I have a chat, shall we?”

He felt guilty leaving her. He even felt a little guilty for yelling at her too, but it wasn't her fight. At least he didn't think it was. He wasn't sure how to tell the difference anymore. The bar was a wash of blood and body parts, and he couldn't fucking believe the majority of them were demons. The four of them stood at the entrance and watched for a moment with their Horsemen at the surface, ready to take over and lend them what they needed to win. With a nod to his brothers, he closed his eyes and opened them, letting War look through him and take over his body to finish the fight quickly.

Walking to the nearest human, he punched him in the stomach, knocking the breath from him and dropped his weight onto him. Straddling the male’s chest, he sent swift punches to the man's chest and stomach. He growled appreciatively as he felt the man die from the onslaught. He heard Jameson shout a warning and spun, claws out, just as a human female rushed him with a dagger. Slicing through her neck took little to no thought, and she dropped, wheezing for air. He didn't bother to give her a mercy kill. Instead, he stepped on top of her and moved toward the gun-blasting jackass, who'd landed a shot on Demarcus if his brother’s outcry meant anything.

Plucking the gun from his hand, he twisted the man's neck and dropped him to the ground. A demon to his left walked up, and he nodded, not realizing the danger from his own kind. The kick to the stomach caught him off guard, and he doubled over. Fury clouded his vision as he realized what he hadn't prior—the Initiative had demons helping them.

His claws slashed out, lancing his nails across the demon's back and drawing blood. He growled before wrapping his hands around the beast's neck. Its legs flailed and barely managed to knee Stryder in the abdomen, causing him to loosen his grip enough that it sunk its claws into his stomach. Using his speed, he slashed out, catching the demon across the chest and relished the sound of its scream.

“This is fucking insane. Why are they helping them?” Jameson's cry was barely audible over the battle sounds in the bar.

He grunted as he struck out at his own demon foe. “Good fucking question, but let's not stop to ask them, k?” A roundhouse kick landed across his stomach as he raced behind his foe and another kick landed in his mid back, shooting him forward. Using his speed, he turned to face the demon that had been eluding him and landed a punch to the center of its face. He heard bone crack and saw the blood flow from the demon's nose.

“Oh, just fucking die already.” Grabbing his dagger from his boot, he sliced the demon from pelvis to chin and sidestepped the gurgling creature as it fell before moving to help Fasheem.

A fire pulsed through him, delighting in the battle. His body tingled with excitement at being able to taunt his brother with it later. Yes, the fight was what he'd been needing.

He heard their murmurs and realized that two were trying to retreat and one was merely in the way. “Chickenshits. Say hello to why you're running.” He grinned, exposing his razor sharp teeth and fangs. His eyes flashed again, the rage had set in for a second round of fighting.

He could feel his body lunging and heard the startled cry as he grabbed the demon closest to harming his brother from behind, snapping his neck like it was nothing more than a popsicle stick. Then the change took over, and he surrendered to War. He remembered nothing, save for when he opened his eyes and saw all the bodies on the floor.

His scream filled the room as some worthless little human sliced his arm from shoulder to elbow. His eyes flashed between demon and normal at the pain. “Oh no, see we don't fucking touch a Horseman's Second. And here's why.”

His leg swept in front of him, and the hunter slammed into the ground. Leaning down, he dug his claws into the guy’s neck and whispered into his ear, “You picked the wrong demon in this bar, buddy.” His claws still digging into his shoulder, he picked him up off the ground. The scream tore from the human's throat and was music to his ears.

His legs were spasming in the air, and he kicked Stryder in the shin, causing him to snarl, “You're lucky you missed my boys, or I would make this way more painful.” His claws dug in deeper, and his hand clamped over his mouth. “Now, now, now. No screaming too loud. I'd accidentally drop you headfirst into the ground.” The whimper shot adrenaline through him, and he released the human. The sounds around him seemed to have stopped, which meant he was putting on a show. He intended to make an example out of the one who had been apparently left behind when the others had retreated.

His eyes grew wide, and he tried to scramble away, the blood trickling quickly down his throat and cascading over his shoulders to the ground. Stalking forward, Stryder bent over slowly and picked up a sword that had been abandoned on the ground.

“Next time, don't try to fuck with a demon, because we're not weak, and worse, sometimes it's me.” The sword sliced effortlessly through the man's neck, severing his head from his body. Battle lust pounding through his body, he tossed the sword to the floor and strutted over to his brothers. As he had assumed, the fighting was over, he had killed the last.

Bodies and plaster chunks that used to be the wall littered the floor. Blood splatters dripped like flowing rivers off the bar and tables, falling to puddles on the floor.

Jameson whistled. “Good thing I'm not cleaning this one up.”

They all laughed at his bad joke and continued to take in the mess. Just like when they'd arrived, it was obvious most of the casualties were demons. The problem was telling which were innocent and which were corrupt.

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