Page 14 of Demon Sworn
6
Katrina
I shakemy head back and forth, my nose bumping along my legs. I thought the worst had happened when my guys were attacked. Then when Adam was taken. Fuck! How can I keep being wrong? My shoulders start to shake, even before the sobs escape my lips, and vomit churns in my stomach.
I hate when I’m wrong. I hate it in decathlon. In class. But I hate it even more right now, when I’m clutching my knees, head bent and face to my thighs, trying not to fall into a full on panic attack.
My parents are dead? They’ve been dead, and I didn’t even realize it? Is there some kind of Darwin Award for daughterly stupidity? I didn’t realize my own parents were being impersonated! How the hell is that possible? My brain admonishes me because I know exactly how that’s possible. Raziel can change his face for people’s dreams, can’t he?
Fuck. Fuck.
A demon was in my house. A demon slept in my parents’ bed. A demon has Adam.
That last thought pinches my windpipe and makes it nearly impossible to breathe.
Adam’s not with my parents, some assholes who might forget a meal here or there but won’t hurt him. He’s with an utter psychopath! I can’t—
I sway, about to fall.
Akor knocks the cat off his legs, ignoring her yowl as she lands on her feet, then scoops me up onto his lap, and I don’t even have the will to fight him. I just lean my head onto his blood-splattered chest as I cry, yet again, until my throat is a desert and my eyes feel like they’ve been clawed to bits.
This nightmare just keeps getting worse, and no matter how much I wish for it, I can’t wake up. Why Adam? Why my cute, sweet—
I have to cut off my thoughts again as bile comes hurtling up my esophagus towards my mouth. I shove a hand into Akor’s mohawk and try to focus on calming down. I’m no good to Adam if I melt down. I can’t help find him, can’t take care of him when we do find him. I have to maintain a steady head. We’re about to face off against some people who impersonated my parents and stole my brother. This means war.
A Patton quote from decathlon rolls through my mind. “The object of war is not to die for your country, but to make the other bastard die for his.” We aren’t fighting for a country, we’re fighting for my brother, which is even more important. I smelt my resolve in a blast of fury and determination, extracting it from the panic and shaping that determination into a weapon. Iwillfind Adam. And my demons will fucking raze those bastards to the ground. Beneath the ground. Into magma. Fuck. I suck at the inspirational speech side of shit, but I have no doubt my Akor will take pleasure in making these assholes rue the day they messed with my family.
I wipe my tears from my cheeks. After today, I never want to cry again. No more sad movies or deep books. I’m going on a rom-com only entertainment diet. I’m pretty sure Van can get behind that. Hell, he’ll even spearhead the campaign.
“Cherry, don’t worry.” Akor nuzzles my neck, shoving aside my hair to place soft kisses there. “I’ll disembowel whomever did this and then use their own guts to hang them.”
“Wouldn’t that be redundant?” Zolroth asks as he strips off his stained shirt and curls his lip at the sight of it before tossing it into the column of fire. It’s gone with a whoosh, burnt to a crisp in under a second. I can’t even find the mental willpower to ogle all of his glorious dark muscles on display. I’m too busy trying to hold on to that bit of inner strength I’ve found, which is new and shiny and slippery in my hands. I’m not a natural badass.
“Not if I do it fast enough,” Akor replies smoothly, as if discussing disemboweling is just an everyday topic. Actually, I’m pretty sure it is for him.
“Focus, idiots.” Raz’s growl is gruffer than usual as he scratches at the scruff along his jaw. He waits until everyone’s eyes are on him before he continues, “Someone besides Katrina’s parents has Adam. We need to find them. Fast.” Raz runs his left hand up and down his tattooed forearm, thinking as he paces. “Who would do this?”
“Who would hate Katrina’s family enough to do this?” Zolroth adds. “I mean, her parents were right tossers and had lots of human enemies, sure. But unless they pissed off some bloke who owns an entire plastic surgery wing like that movieFace Off, there’s zero chance these weren’t supernaturals.”
There’s a beat of silence where all the guys absorb Zolroth’s theory, and Akor’s fingers dig into my thigh as he flexes in anger. I cuddle into him, holding on to my willpower by the skin of my teeth but not quite able to face any of the lost or furious looks I’m sure I’ll see around the room.
The quiet stretches on, and I assume Kastros signs something that I can’t see, because Akor scoffs, blowing a raspberry. “No way.”
“We don’t have any better leads, Akor,” Raz argues. “No other angels have been assigned to this area, right? Baby girl, when you looked at that map, was anyone else sent down around here?”
I shake my head weakly. I was the only one who saw the map in Heaven, because my guys weren’t pure enough to get in. My eyes feel crusted, and my voice comes out raw. “No one else.”
Raz gives a brisk nod. “Then we’re headed back to the peach farm. Everyone has ten minutes—”
“Not so fast. Katrina needs a shower and some strong coffee and maybe something to eat.” Van speaks up more aggressively than I’ve ever heard him before, and my eyes drift over to the lust demon, appreciation swelling my heart like helium in a balloon.
“I call the shower,” Akor says, swooping his arms underneath my legs and standing with me in his arms.
Van’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t argue.
“Love, would you rather have tea?” Zolroth asks.
I shake my head, because I might be just a shadow of a person right now, but I’m not a heathen.
