Page 13 of Demon Stalked
She nearly was destroyed before… A sick feeling churns in my stomach when I think about her accident and how close the world came to losing her.
Katrina did the right thing walking away. But I hear them all, pacing their rooms at night, languishing over her, devising plans, and buying goddamned puppies who steal and hide my shoes.
This isn’t some game. We aren’t simple men who can love Katrina and treat her right. We’re creations of Hell. We were born there; the chaos of that place pumps through our veins. Demons shouldn’t have Centers. Centers are a loophole God created in an attempt to quash us, a way to quell us.
We don’t follow God’s rules. But Centers can be human. God has turned many demon murders into his puppets by threatening their Center, which is why so many Centers are now killed the second they’re discovered—they’re too much of a liability.
That’s the job of a murder’s leader. Sense the Center and kill her in order to protect the murder.
A leader who can’t do that is a failure.
I heave out a deep, shuddering breath as my power amps up and vengeance makes my heart pound. I tell myself it’s no good to dwell on the past. I need to stay focused on the present.
When Van comes home and has a dreamy, dopey smile on his face as he passes through the kitchen…I know he’s worn her down.
That means it’s time.
I have to show Katrina what Hell is. I have to scare her so badly and scar her so deeply, that she’ll run away screaming and never come back again.
I wait until midnight, until I’m certain that each of those fuckers is asleep. Then I shed my human skin, embrace my demonic form, let my horns rise from my forehead, and feel the night air whispering over them. I unfurl my wings, the sharp claws at the tips stretching.
I stalk towards the front door. But a voice stops me.
“Where ya going? Huh? Huh? Huh? Can I come? Are you going for a walk?” Jason leaps over the couch, his vapid eyes bright and excited.
Luckily, because he was changed by demon magic, Jason can understand demonic sign language. I lift my hands and say,No, you can’t come. But I have something very special for you. You get to sleep in my bed.
“Oh, your bed. Oh, that’s fun. Your bed is soft. Do you have brains in there?”
Not in there, but if you do a good job and hide under the covers and stay very quiet, then I’ll bring you back a brain,I tell the zombie-dog man.
His tongue pops out of his mouth as he nods in frantic acceptance of my terms. “K. Got it. Hide. Sleep. Quiet.” He skips down the hallway to my bedroom, then turns back and holds a finger to his lips before he tiptoes inside.
Ugh. Crisis averted. I don’t want Jason telling any of the others where I’ve gone. They’re going to be pissed.
I heave a deep breath and slip outside, reminding myself that someone in the group has to make hard choices. I just wish it didn’t have to be me.
I fly through the starry night sky, enjoying the crisp feel of the wind biting at my nose. When I near the hotel, I start to glide. I had originally planned to land on Katrina’s balcony and knock softly until I woke her. But when I descend, I see that she’s already outside on the tiny deck, leaning against the railing, fingering a charm bracelet as she smiles dreamily down at a dumpster in the parking lot.
It’s not the view that has made her that happy.
Fuck.
Sometimes, it sucks to be the bad guy. The logical one. It sucks so much that I stepped down from my position as the murder’s leader and let Raz take over that shit.
But he’s just as moody and moany as the rest of them. He’s been sleeping all hours of the day like he’s sunk into a damned depression with Katrina gone.
So it’s up to me. I swallow hard and bat my wings in the air, slowing so I can hover just in front of her.
Her eyes widen, and she takes a step back. But not in horror like she should. In invitation. “Kastros,” her tone is soft and warm. “I wondered when you’d come.”
Her lips curl into a small smile, and part of me just wants to grab her, kiss her, tuck her under my arms, and let my hands sign how precious she is to me.
I don’t answer her greeting. I can’t. I hate what I’m about to do so much that I can’t even look her in the eye. I just swoop down and grab her around the waist and then clutch her to me as I flap my wings hard, shooting us like a rocket up into the sky.
“Whaaaaaa!” she screeches. Her hand starts to beat against my shoulder. “We can’t leave! Adam’s in there! Alone.”
I don’t respond, don’t acknowledge her panic, though it rips me apart to ignore her. Instead, I stretch out my right hand, spread my fingers wide, and pull aside the veil that separates the human world from the divine one.
