Page 35 of Give a Devil his Due
The light jumps to the roof, moving from one side to the other slowly like that will help somehow. Helena steps away from me, and as much as I hate it, I leave her to help the others. After a few minutes of petting walls like they are our lovers, we are all grumbling and frustrated because, as Colt said, there is absolutely nothing here. I give up and turn to grab my mate so we can keep moving. My heart punches my ribs hard when I don’t see her straight away. Eyes frantically darting everywhere all at once, I almost miss her, but then I see her standing near Raphael, who is frozen like a statue staring at the ground. Following his gaze, I find her.
On her hands and knees, Helena is pressing her cheek on the grime and who-knows-what-else-covered ground. Thinking she is unwell, I trip over the fucking railing and pitch forward before I right myself so I can go pick her up. Why is the prick just standing there watching her like she’s an insect under his boot?
“Get out of my way.” The Archangel stumbles with an exclaimed protest when I shove hard on his chest.
I reach for Helena.
“No wait,” my mate hisses, and my hand freezes above her shoulder. Her gaze flicks to my face. “Just wait.”
“What are you doing?”
Is this some sort of stretching exercise because she is sore? I mean, I’ve seen her do yoga before she goes through her routine to keep herself flexible so she can fight, but doing it here? The need to pick her up or let her be war within me.
“Listening,” she says, her words barely above a whisper.
“To what?” I feel dumber than a box of rocks.
“A train.” There is no mistaking the frustration in her tone.
I stiffen, my entire body locking.
She must notice my reaction because she scrambles to her feet, her jerky movements only feeding my anxiety at the though of her being in danger once again.
“There is no train.” Her reassurance comes out like a jumbled mess. “I was just listening while you guys are searching for a door in case we need to scram, you know?” Her sheepish look calms me slightly. “If you press your ear on the tracks, you can hear a train coming before you see it.”
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I exhale loudly. There is no need for anyone to attack us because this female will be the death of me. Is it possible for someone like me to die from a heart attack? Helena sure as hell is putting it to a very thorough test.
“What do you know?” Beelzebub mutters before laughing gleefully. “Well, well, what have we here?”
Helena
Maybe it was dumb to stick my ass in the air to listen if another killer train is coming, but they can’t blame me for it. Fear was a living thing twisting my insides, and Raphael’s sad, golden irises were tormenting me in the back of my mind like the moment he was ripped away right in front of me. My throat tight and clogged with emotions, I follow Eric to where Beelzebub is pointing at a part of the wall, and he’s wearing the biggest grin I’ve ever seen on his face.
“I don’t see it.” All of them ignore my comment, so I bend my head to search the floor.
Is it really an object so small that I can’t spot it right away? My feet fidget where I’m standing from impatience and tension coiling my body because of the awkward, uncomfortable silence between Raphael and me when Eric walked away. Yes, I was angry for what the Archangel did, but I wasn’t holding it against him.
I would’ve done the same.
Why is there this heavy, pregnant air around us when we stand close then?
“Fucking wards,” Eric spits to the side, and his fist slams into the portion of the wall they are examining like it’s the greatest thing after sliced bread.
That has my full attention.
“There is a door there.” My heartbeat picks up, and I saddle closer to the narrow path, wrapping my fingers around the cold railing so I can lean in and see better.
“Step aside, Hel.” My mate nudges me when he steps back a couple of feet. “Let’s break them and get the hell out of here. I’ve had enough bullshit.”
Latching onto his forearm, I tug him back. “There could be traps set, Eric. What do you think you are doing?”
“Triggering them before you decide to go for it,” he answers me flatly with a pointed look.
I flinch.
Okay, fine. I deserve that, but he really doesn’t need to be a jerk about it. It’s not like I do things on purpose. With my lips pressed in a firm line, I nod at him and give him space to do … whatever he is planning to do. Raphael’s hand comes to my lower back in comfort, not touching but close enough that I can feel the heat of his skin. Heart stuttering, I take a deep breath.
“We can break through them, she-devil.” Colt smirks at me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll let you have dibs on whatever needs stabbing inside.”
