Page 34 of Demon Loved
My slightly wild demon pulls me sideways on the middle seat into what might be a cozy, cuddly position if we weren’t driving down a dirt road full of bumps and divots, leaving the peach farm and the flock of angels—one frantically scrubbing at the dirt stains on the couch—behind.
It was all sort of anticlimactic. Once the guys had agreed that Raphael’s flock couldn’t lie and the “idiot-angels,” as Raz so eloquently called them, let us go…we were at a loss.
Apparently, angels letting demons just walk away wasn’t normal protocol.
“I can’t believe they just let us go,” Van repeats from his spot in the backseat. I glance back to see him running a hand through that gorgeous auburn hair of his, an expression of utter confusion on his face.
From the driver’s seat, Raz says, “I can believe it.” Every eye in the vehicle jerks toward him. “They’re looking for their Center. That’s why they were so fascinated to see us with ours. That we kept ours.”
All the air is sucked out of the van for a second. Akor’s arms tighten around me. “Of course we kept our Katrina.”
But a dark thought tangles my mind into knots. “Are the angels going to…” I can’t say it. I can’t say “kill their Center” aloud. It’s too close and cuts too deep. I snuggle closer into Akor, putting my cheek to his forehead and wrapping my arms around him more tightly.
I can’t help but wonder morbidly about what would’ve happened if the demons had killed me instead of fallen in love with me. I wouldn’t even blame them if they had. After all, they’d clearly been taught for centuries that a Center was a burden. It was what had been ingrained in their heads. I was eternally grateful that somehow, magically, they’d seen past that and chosen their own path, our path.
“That Raphael couldn’t even say the word murder talking about us, so I doubt it,” Raz says.
Kastros, who’s riding in the passenger seat, turns to sign to the rest of us,But what about Gage?
“What about Gage?” Van asks from behind us. “It doesn’t matter what he wants. Whatever happens to them doesn’t matter at all. What about Zolroth? We have to focus on whomever is attacking us and why…”
He’s right. The fact that Raphael doesn’t look like the type who could stomach cold-blooded killing soothes the worry that was sloshing around in my stomach like sour milk. We need to focus more on the angels who are willing to kill demons, not those who would let them go.
“Well,” I begin, straightening my spine and playing with the base of Akor’s stiff mohawk as I think. “Do you guys have any enemies?”
Raz brakes hard, and the van comes to a full stop. Every single one of my demons turns to look at me. “Do we have any enemies?” Raz scoffs. “What, do you think we were born yesterday? We have scores of enemies.”
Immediately, Van pipes up from the back seat. “There were those angels we fought in Tahiti that one time…the ones obsessed with making bigger and better temples…”
“No, it can’t be them,” Akor argues. “They don’t have the angel jizz it takes—”
“What do you know about angel jizz?” I tease, but I suddenly don’t want to know the answer to that question.
Akor just laughs, making my entire body shake, before he leans forward and whispers into my ear, “That it doesn’t taste as good as my cherry.”
I go beet red, and all of the guys seem to stop and stare for a second, before the list of enemies grows.
There were the angels that Raz apparently tortured with nightmares full of murderous events and dreams so realistic that some angels thought they were false memories, angels that Van turned into “orgy-crazy pigeons” (his words), angels that Kastros ripped the wings off of, angels that Akor turned into sobbing messes with what he dubbed “internal fire.”
“They’re probably after me,” Raz confesses. “Remember how I ruined that bastard halo-humper’s miracle?” Raz puffs up as he turns from the front seat to stare at us.
“I made an archangel cry,” Akor retorts. “I’ve done far worse things than you.”
Kastros signs,I dragged two down into the murder canyon of Hell to avenge what they’d done to—
Van starts talking over Kastros’s signing. “Well, I convinced three to go proposition God himself.”
Seriously?
Testosterone fills the car like it’s a perfume laced with “stupid.”
I can’t believe they’ve gotten so off-track.
I scrub a hand over my face as each guy keeps trying to top the others, listing why he is the most hated member of the murder, the best demon, and therefore, the target of all this bullshit.
“Excuse me, is one of you a pride demon?” I have to yell to be heard over them. “Because there’s a whole lot of bragging going on in here and not a whole lot of strategizing. Or was one of those angels a pride angel? Did they use their magic on you? Maybe they’re trying to distract you with—”
“We should turn back and kill them.” Akor’s eyes widen immediately, and his hands tighten on my waist. I see Kastros start to nod and Raz grimace.
