Page 49 of The Devil We Know

I’m frozen.

Normally, I wouldn’t find myself standing in the same spot, completely incapable of voice or thought.

Normally, my fight response is instantaneous, my refusal to just stand there and be killed prevalent in my mind.

Normally, my brain is operating on all cylinders, and I’m capable of making decisions in high-stress situations.

Normally.

What a funny fucking word.

A hand on my arm startles me from my ridiculous thought process, and I see the priest standing beside me, urging me out of the way. I go with him, mostly because I’m incapable of doing anything else, and with the room sealed, there’s not exactly a flight option.

Matt and Kaian are making their way through the room, obviously fighting for their lives, and I’m torn.

Torn between jumping out into the middle of the fray and helping someone I care about and running screaming from my first glimpse of the devil I never knew existed.

Even thinking this, I know it’s not a fair assessment. Previously, I’ve witnessed the type of chaos Matt and his friends are capable of. I’m not sure why I thought that maybe he was a little different than the others, but that naïve thought process has now been squashed.

He’s a fucking blood-thirsty psycho.

I turn to the priest and whisper-shout, “We should get out of here.”

He raises his brows at me, seeming to be entirely unaffected by the chaos around us, as he replies calmly, “That is not an option, my dear.”

I frown, bristling at the idea that I’m a prisoner, still. “And why not?”

“Do you value your life?”

“Matt won’t hurt me,” I scoff.

The man gives me an almost pitying look, but then he says, “That may be true, but I cannot say the same thing. And I value my life.”

More shouting across the room draws my attention, and I see three men surrounding a fallen figure. Glancing around, I locate Kaian on the other side of the room, fighting his way out of the fray.

The sounds of laughter draw my attention back to the previous group, a shiver zapping down my spine as I realize who is on the ground, attempting to rise above the men forcing him to stay down.

My heart jackhammers in my chest, fury and agony fueling me as I jump up and yank my arm from the grasp of the priest. I run toward the small group, rushing them blindly, numbness enveloping me as I manage to bend down and, without breaking stride, scoop up a fallen blade. Three lunging steps, and I launch myself through the air, weightless and merciless, as I leap onto the back of the laughing man.

Kill or be killed.

My left hand grabs him by the hair. I yank viciously as my right hand comes around, impaling the blade into the side of his neck. He screams, his hands coming back and knocking me in the head. I don’t budge. I twist and twist and twist, realizing that I’m screaming like a banshee.

The two other men stare at me, wide-eyed, and Matt uses the few seconds’ distraction to gain his footing, taking them both out with a few swipes of his knife.

The man I’m still clutching falls to the ground with me on top of him, and only then do I release him, panting for breath. I scramble to my feet, attempting to rise, but I stagger. The priest is there again, assisting me to my feet and helping me back to the edge of the room. He pushes me into a chair and kneels in front of me, a bottle of water in one hand and a square of cloth in the other. He pours water on the cloth, and then the coolness is against my face.

His eyes meet mine, and he says grimly, “Apparently, you can take care of yourself.”

I laugh. That maniacal sense of self that was locked in my gut erupts, and I laugh even more loudly. His eyes widen, and thenhe shakes his head as he continues to rub the wet cloth against my face.

He hands the water bottle over to me. “Drink some of this.”

I take the bottle, pour some into my mouth, and immediately choke through my laughter. He winces as water sprays against his face, and he steps back, taking the bottle from me and muttering, “Get control of yourself.”

I snap my mouth shut, holding my breath, glancing around at the now-quiet room. Matt and Kaian are standing in the middle of it, chests heaving, what I can only assume are trickles of sweat leaving rivulets in the blood staining their skin.

I can’t make out their words, but they’re speaking forcefully to each other, and then they both nod and walk toward me. Kaian is still looking at Matt, but Matt is focused on me.

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