Page 82 of Demon Loved
His eyes lower, and finally, that face of his shows a hint of emotion. He bites his lip, and I can tell he’s not looking forward to it.
Good.
I want him to hurt. And maybe Van’s right. Maybe the best way to hurt Kastros right now isn’t physical. Maybe the best way to make him suffer is to have him watch Katrina’s face grow distraught and then disgusted. Maybe the best way to hurt him is for him to watch her walk away, knowing that there’s absolutely zero chance in Hell that she’ll ever turn back.
And after he’s suffered through that delightful round of torture… I crack my knuckles. I’ll have at him a bit before I let Akor turn him into ribbons.
29
Katrina
Ali flashesme a sugary sweet smile as she turns on her blinker.
My legs are pulled up underneath me, my seatbelt tight against my chest, as she turns onto her desired street.
Outside, the sky is an inky blanket, the monotony of darkness broken apart by twinkling silver stars. A fine layer of fog engulfs the ground and trees as we crawl along.
Ali reaches for the bottle of alcohol in the cup holder, and I just barely restrain my eye roll. I’ve told her time and time again that she shouldn’t drink and drive, but does my nanny ever listen to me? No. She promises me that she’s not drunk, but I can see the glaze in her hazel eyes and the downwards tilt of her lips, almost as if it requires too much effort to lift her facial muscles.
And then the darkness is ripped apart when a large, shadowy figure jumps in front of the vehicle. I scream, panic squeezing my heart in an iron vise, as Ali jerks the steering wheel to the right.
Directly towards the line of trees.
For a brief, brief moment, I can see my life flash before my eyes. I always thought that was an urban myth, something that was written about in stories and talked about in movies but not necessarily true.
But as the tree trunk fast approaches, eerily resembling a shadow monster, I think about Mom and Dad. Adam. My friends.
My head careens forward, saved only by the detonating airbag, and then I think about nothing at all.
* * *
My heart juddersin my chest as I jerk in a pair of strong, corded arms.
“Shhh.” The voice is familiar, as is the hand petting my hair in slow, soothing strokes. “You’re okay.”
“Raz?” I blink rapidly, attempting to dislodge the remnants of sleep from my eyes, as his arms tighten around me.
It’s only then that I notice where we are. Mainly, in the fucking sky.
In every direction, I can see an endless canvas of metallic gray, highlighted with pink streaks. It’s dark enough where I can’t see anyone down below—and they can’t see me—but I can decipher Raz’s arresting features. Currently, his brows are furrowed and his lips are pressed in an unrelenting straight line.
For a brief moment, confusion has me squinting up at him, struggling to understand what transpired.
Breaking into Heaven.
Finding the map.
The fight with the angels.
And…
The familiar haunting pain grips me and refuses to release its hold.
Kastros tried to kill me.
That one thought reverberates through my head as Raz’s face grows somber, no doubt sensing where my mind went.
“Baby…”
