Page 8 of Of Angels & Absolution

She wears it well, with equal parts grace and sass. I’m lowkey proud to have a badass mom who could make a mean pancake or make a bitch disappear, depending on her mood.

That doesn’t mean I’ll ever forgive the Disciples for causing it.

The Sinners are all fucking psychos, so seeing them harassing some poor freshman who’s just trying to make it through the drizzle on her way to class is hardly new. But then I’m reminded that Mercy is one of the poor freshmen they’ve been known to harass, and all logic goes out the window. I storm that way, ready for war, and charge in like a bull.

I know I look scary as hell—at six-foot-four inches of pure muscle, I look more like my uncle than my dad, and I spend as much time under the needle getting inked as I do in the gym getting ripped. On the inside, I like to think I’m more golden retriever than Doberman, but when the situation calls for it, I’m not above using my size and looks to intimidate people. Unlike Heath, I don’t usually go looking for trouble, but I’ve never backed down from a fight. If I did, I wouldn’t be in the Skull and Crossbones, no matter who my family is.

When I reach the wall of four Sinners standing shoulder to shoulder and shove them apart, I don’t find the scene I expected. Instead of Mercy huddled and terrified, she’s standing with her feet planted wide, fists raised, blue eyes blazing with defiance. Three of the Sincero boys are on the rain-soaked ground at her feet—one clutching his throat, another his nuts, a third one apparently out cold. I take them in, then return my gaze to Mercy, a low whistle escaping me.

Damn, girl.

Taking care of business like she did when we were kids, except then, she had the rest of the Quint backing her up. Now she stands alone in the rain, blood dripping from a busted lip and hair coming unmoored from its usual tight bun, cheeks flushed with adrenaline. She’s never looked more fuckable in her life.

“Are we done here?” I ask. “Because I think Saint showed y’all what happens if you fuck with his sister. Did you forget so soon?”

“Why don’t you run and tell him?” Bain taunts, twirling his oversized umbrella over him, his sister, and his pretty-boy brother. “We’ll finish her off for you while you’re gone. We all know you can’t get the job done.”

His sister sucks her teeth and then grins, canines like fangs between her red lips, as she looks me up and down. “I’d let him try.”

“What?” I bark.

The others snicker and nudge Morticia, and I realize they think I’m caught up on what she said, which is vaguely interesting, since I always thought she was a lesbian. But I don’t really care what she does in her spare time, as long as my dick isn’t part of it. In fact, my testicles are crawling back up into my body just thinking about it, and even the frigid October rain couldn’t do that.

But no one gets to question my ability to get a girl off, not even these assholes. I am a certified sex god and a stud, and no one better evenhintdifferently.

I bow up and glare down at Archer, since looking up at Bain makes my puffery less effective. Archer’s the only one not huddled under the umbrella, so he’s an easy target.

“Did you say you were going to finish her off?” I ask, nodding to their fallen comrades. “Looks like she was doing a fine job finishing you off. I knew hockey players were pussies, but I didn’t know a chick could singlehandedly take down all seven of you.”

Hey, if they’re going to hit me in my point of pride, I’ll hit them in theirs.

I smirk down at the boy. “Got something to say back to me, little guy?”

Bain shoves the umbrella handle at his sister and steps out from the shelter, getting up in my face so his brother can melt back into his place.

“You think you’re going to disrespect my brother like that and walk away?”

That word triggers an automatic response in me—people die over shit like that on our side of town. The taunting is over. My hands ball into fists, my gaze sweeps them for weapons, and adrenaline courses through my bloodstream like a shot of heroin.

Bain throws the first punch, and I absorb it as best as I can because he’s quicker, but I’m stronger. Pain explodes up my side, but I stand my ground and return the blow, going for his face. He ducks, and my fist glances off the fucking razor-edge of his jawline. He jumps back, then swings again, his long limbs letting him connect fully while I have to step in. The result makes his blow more powerful, since he has my momentum on his side. But my next blow connects squarely with his gut, and he doubles over in pain, the breath knocked out of him. He lunges, tackling my legs like he’ll take me down. Too bad I’ve been on the receiving end of plenty of those moves on the football field, from guys who weigh twice what this gangly bastard does.

I ram my elbow down into his back, letting him push me back a few steps so I don’t lose my balance. Then I box him in the ear, and he loses his hold and crumples. Grunts and cries of pain echo around us, and I spin to find Mercy facing off against Cruella and the last standing Sincero brother. He lunges for her, and she sidesteps, but he catches the collar of her uniform. A ripping sound echoes through the rain, and her shirt gapes open, the jagged tear exposing one of her tits, clad in a nude bra that doesn’t quite hide the point of her nipple in the cold.

Ah hell no.

I grab the Sinner by the back of his neck and hurl him to the ground before jumping on him. I don’t restrain myself as my fists pound his face in. He’s lucky I don’t tear his eyes out for seeing Mercy that way like Saint would. I’m a civilized heathen,though, so I settle for making sure they’ll be swollen shut for a week.

Bain scrapes himself off the ground and comes at me again, knocking me off Rafe. When I roll away, I see Mercy and the evil queen rolling around on the grass. Mercy’s so docile and obedient that it’s hot to see her throwing a punch and not just ducking and cowering. I might spontaneously ejaculate if I saw her mud wrestling any other chick, but Sister Sincero is so vile that not one dude on earth would want to fuck her. Unless he’s into having his dick dissolved in a pit of acid, that is, since that’s definitely what resides between her legs.

I’m distracted enough that Bain gets in a few hits, anyway, including busting my eye and lip. The taste of my own blood fills my mouth and clears my head, and I slam a fist into his jaw so hard he flies backwards off me and thuds to the grass in an unconscious heap. I scramble up in time to see Evil Incarnate sitting astride Mercy, both hands wrapped around her throat, squeezing until Mercy’s face has turned a shade of scarlet that’s bordering on maroon.

I’ve never hit a girl before, but I’m not about to let Salem choke out our lamb. Not when I know she’s not just bigger and tougher than Mercy, but she fights at the underground, bareknuckle fight club my cousin runs. She could probably knock me out if I’m not careful.

I grab the red-lipped Sincero bitch by the high braid she’s wearing today and haul her backwards. She gives a cry of fury as she loses her hold, probably pissed that she was yanked back from the edge of victory. She spins and slashes her pointed claws through the air, shrieking and hissing like a possum. Her nails rake down my cheek and neck before I toss her away from me. She goes tumbling across the grass, and I turn back and hold out a hand to help Mercy up.

More than half the Sinners are still conscious, but since they seem disinclined to continue fighting, I decide to call it a day. I’m not looking to get arrested for murder, and I need to get Mercy somewhere safe.

“You’ll pay for this,” swears Killian as we walk away.

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