Storm and Fury by Jennifer L. Armentrout

17

Misha had taken me back to the main house, and it was just us. I was pacing the length of the foyer, still in the stupid gown, but I had rushed upstairs to grab my blades just in case.

“Where is Jada?” I asked, stomach churning.

“I think she went with Ty to his place to lock down,” he said, standing sentry by the front windows. “I know she’s safe, Trin. As soon as the guns started firing, she shifted, as did Ty, and then he made her leave with him.”

A little bit of relief seeped into my tight muscles. “And you’re sure Thierry and Matthew were okay?”

“Yes. The only injuries I saw were very minor.” He glanced over his shoulder at me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes. Just scratches.” I passed him, the skirt swishing along my calves. “I can’t believe they were humans working with demons. I thought at first they might be those Church of God’s Children people, but if they hate Wardens, why would they work with demons?”

Misha’s back was rigid. “Because those idiots don’t realize demons are real. They’d be easily manipulated by demons or by anyone who provided them a chance to dole out violence against us.”

That was true, but...

“But they were wearing the masks, Misha.” I shuddered. “The same masks Clay was wearing and...and Wayne was killed by a demon nearby. The scouting party said there were no signs, but they were obviously wrong. And I can still sense demons.”

“I told Thierry. They’re looking.” Misha turned from the window. “Something is definitely going on.”

Understatement of the year.

“Where do you think Thierry and Matthew are?” I asked, stressing like a...like a human.

“They’re probably at the walls.”

The walls were less than a mile from here, and the Great Hall was in between. There were several football-field lengths separating the main house from the community and the other, much smaller wall, but if the demons or wayward, idiotic humans made it here, to this house, they’d run through this community like a blade through tissue.

Most of the Wardens here, besides those who guarded the walls and trained the classes, weren’t skilled warriors. There were more women and children than men, and due to the ridiculous, sexist as Hell structure, female Wardens weren’t trained.

Not even Jada.

I turned, pivoted on my heel and then stopped as the siren went off again. Misha and I stopped moving, stopped breathing, as we listened. If it went off twice, it was the all clear. Three times meant bad, bad news.

The siren blared once, twice, as the familiar oppressive feeling settled on my shoulders...and then a third time before casting the large, rambling house into eerie silence.

A chill swept down my spine as I turned to Misha. In the bright light of the foyer, his reddish curls looked like autumn flames. “The demons are here.”

“They are.” The pupils of his bright blue eyes began to stretch vertically. His jaw was hard as he turned to the large iron-cast doors.

In all the years I’d lived among the Wardens in the Potomac Highlands, there’d never been a breach, let alone something like this.

A tremor coursed through my arms as I walked toward the door, finding it unlocked.

“Trin, don’t—”

I opened the door and dark night air rushed in, sweeping over my bare arms. “Do you really think a door is going to stop them if they make it this far?”

“It would at least slow them down.”

The cold cement of the porch chilled my feet as I stepped outside. I could hear nothing. Not even a bird or the chirp of an insect, as if they could sense the unnaturalness in the air.

It was quiet—too quiet as I stared over the driveway lit by the powerful floodlights and beyond, into the darkness no light could penetrate.

“Can you see anything?” I asked.

Misha came to stand beside me at the top of the steps. Even if my eyes weren’t crap, his vision would still be a million times better than mine.

“I don’t see anything,” Misha reported, glancing down at me. “Except that dress. You could’ve changed. All a demon is going to see is your—”

“Shut up,” I grumbled.

“You know, maybe you should go to the wall,” he went on. “Pretty sure if any demon saw you in that dress, they’d think twice before trying to lay siege.”

I shoved him. “You’re stupid. Zayne said I looked like a goddess.”

He snorted. “Really?”

“And he said I looked beautiful.” I elbowed him this time.

“The same guy who didn’t kiss you back? The same guy I warned you to stay away from?” Misha shoved me back and I bumped into the railing. “You think I wasn’t going to bring that back up?”

I rolled my eyes. “Now really isn’t time to lecture me about that. Why don’t you wait until we’re not under siege by humans and demons?”

He sighed. “You should go back inside, Trin.”

I ignored what he said, as I did most of the things he ordered or bellowed at me. “Do you think Jada is okay?” I asked for what had to be the fifth time.

“She’s with Ty. I’m sure she is,” he reassured me yet again. “Besides, all the homes have panic rooms just in case something like this happens, and that’s where you should be, but that’s not happening. They’ll be fine. All of them will be.”

Unless the demons breached the walls and laid waste to the community, burning the homes like I’d heard had happened to a community west of us several months ago, and those panic rooms hadn’t saved them all. Some of the panic rooms hadn’t withstood the abnormal fire the demons had wielded.

“And if that happened here?”

I closed my eyes as a shudder rolled through me. “This is my fault.”

“What? No, it’s not.” Misha’s response was quick, almost too quick. “This is not your fault.”

Feeling the burn travel up my throat, I shook my head. “But it is. I got caught off guard by Clay and bled all over the place, Misha. I used my grace when I should’ve just run—”

“If you hadn’t used your grace, you could’ve died.” Misha’s warm fingers touched my cheeks. “I could’ve died. You protected yourself. You did everything you could do.”

Opening my eyes, I met his gaze. Under the porch light, his eyes were pools of midnight blue. “Why do you always have to sound so logical?”

Misha lowered his head so we were eye level as his thumbs slid over my cheekbones. “Because you’re always so illogical.”

A ragged laugh parted my laugh. “That’s a fair point.”

“A fair point is—”

The sudden eruption of tingles along the nape of my neck and between my shoulder blades stole my breath. Squeezing the blades until the handles imprinted on my flesh, I whispered, “They’re coming.”

Misha lowered his hands and faced the driveway. “Get back.”

This time I listened, taking a few steps away to give him space. Misha was about to shift into his true form, and I couldn’t take my eyes away from him when he did. I’d never been able to, and I wished I’d seen the actual moment Zayne had shifted.

Misha’s pale, pinkish skin was the first thing to change. It deepened in hue as his skin hardened, becoming a deep slate gray. His hands bent into claws sharp enough to cut through stone. Bold horns sprouted between the mess of reddish-brown curls. The bones of his shoulders shifted under the skin and the blades protruded out. Wings formed, spreading out behind him on either side.

I’d be right. Misha was huge, but Zayne was even bigger.

He looked over his shoulder at me, and I saw that his face had changed. Nostrils had flattened into thin slits. His mouth had widened, giving room to fangs that could tear through flesh and metal. Only those eyes remained the same: Warden blue.

“You going to listen to me for once and go into the house?” he asked, his voice thicker, richer, now.

I snorted. “And let you have all the fun of killing demons alone? Ha. No.”

“There’s something wrong with you, something terribly wrong.” He turned back to the driveway, and I grinned despite all of this. “What if there are more humans?”

My skin chilled as my grin faded. “I can do it.”

“Just try to keep it under control, Trin.”

I knew what he was referencing. “Sure thing, boss.”

The sound of pounding feet echoed up the driveway and Misha jumped, landing in a crouch several feet from the steps. My breath caught as something bulky raced under the floodlight, and I saw it.

Dear God, it was a Nightcrawler.

I was stunned as I recognized the moonstone-colored skin. I’d never seen one in person. Only in the texts we read in school, alongside normal things like English and calculus. Like Ravers, Nightcrawlers weren’t supposed to be topside, on Earth, because they couldn’t remotely blend in with humans. Their venom was toxic, paralyzing its victims within minutes, sometimes even less. This one was too far away for me to see the details of its face, even with the bright lights, but I was thinking that was a blessing.

They were notoriously ugly.

Misha lifted off the ground, but I could be faster. Cocking back my arm, I focused and the world around me fell away. I let the blade fly.

It struck true, driving deep into the Nightcrawler’s chest before Misha could even take flight.

The Nightcrawler’s steps faltered as it let out a roar of pain and fury, a sound so horrific it rattled my insides. Flames erupted from its chest, encompassing its body within seconds.

Iron was deadly to a demon and striking one in a vital place, like the chest, rendered them pretty damn useless immediately.

My iron blade clattered onto the driveway, settling in a pile of demon dust.

Landing a foot from where the Nightcrawler had been, Misha looked back at me. “You can’t see me if I step one foot to the left, but you nailed that bastard in the blink of an eye.”

Another Nightcrawler appeared at the edge of the floodlight.

“This one is mine.” Misha took off, his wings cutting wide through the air. A second later, he crashed into the Nightcrawler, knocking it several feet back, into the darkness and the void I couldn’t see through.

I hurried to my blade and snatched it up, ignoring how warm the metal was. I became very still, scanning the darkness as I heard the grunts echoing from where Misha was fighting the Nightcrawler. How many more might there be that made it past the Wardens on the walls? A trickle of fear invaded my blood, but I ignored it, pushing it down so I didn’t give in. Fear could be useful. It could hone the senses, but it could also overwhelm. It was a dangerous, fine line to walk, and I wasn’t willing to walk it at the moment.

Something shifted to my right, moving too fast in my peripheral vision for me to focus. I spun just in time as a tall, lithe form rushed me. It looked human. Beautiful like an angel, a gorgeous woman whose beauty surely had lured many a man and woman to some terrible fate.

An Upper Level demon.

I caught sight of her yellowish eyes as her mouth gaped open, jaw unhinging in the most unnatural way as she let out a low growl that reminded me of a very large, very angry cat. Fine hair rose all over my body.

I darted to the left, but she was fast—faster than anything I’d ever faced. A whoosh of air whirled around me as she grabbed a handful of my dress and tossed me aside. I slammed into the side of the porch. Bright bursts of lights dotted my vision as I scrambled to my feet, still holding the blades.

The demon was on me in a nanosecond, grabbing my shoulder and pulling me toward her. I had no idea what she planned to do, and I didn’t wait to find out.

I let instinct take over. I twisted around, catching the surprise flickering across her face a second before I kicked. My foot connected with the side of her pretty face, snapping her head back with a sickening crack. She wheeled around, spinning back toward me, her head hanging at a very unnatural angle, and her neck...

“Dude,” I whispered, eyes going wide. “Your neck is superbroken.”

She let out a huffing laugh. “That wasn’t very nice of you.”

It was a sight I wouldn’t be able to carve out of my memories for many years to come.

The female demon shifted, her skin turning a shade of deep orange. Her wings unfurled, and for a brief moment, I allowed myself to be struck by how much Upper Level demons looked like Wardens. Then I shot forward—

A clawed hand thrust through her chest, sending inky, dark blood spitting into the air. The hand jerk back and the demon staggered sideways. Surprise turned to horror as she looked down at herself.

“I think that was your heart,” I said.

The female demon lifted her chin and then burst into flames, incinerated on the spot.

I lifted my gaze to where Misha stood, wiping his hand on the black ceremonial pants. “That was gross.”

“You didn’t just have your hand inside her.”

“Well, I’m smart enough to let the blades do their job.”

“More like you need blades because you don’t have these bad mamajamas.” Misha wiggled his bloodstained fingers at me. “And didn’t I tell you—”

The ground trembled as something large and heavy landed behind Misha. I caught the glimpse of black wings and then Misha had ahold of my arm, pulling me along behind him as we raced back up the steps and into the house.

If something was making Misha run, then it was bad, really bad. I looked over my shoulder as we crossed the porch, and all I saw was a black form slowly coming up the steps, strolling as one would in a park—

Misha shoved me into the foyer, letting go of my arm as he spun, slamming the door shut behind him.

I faced him. “What was th—?”

The steel door blew off its hinges, flying backward and slamming into Misha. I shouted, starting toward him as he crashed into the wall. The door shattered on impact. Misha collapsed onto the floor. Reaching his side, I shifted the blades into one hand and grabbed him by the arm as I looked up and froze.

Inky, oily darkness filed the ruined doorway, licking over the walls with thick tendrils. A wave of heat followed as I let go of Misha’s arm and straightened.

I’d never seen anything like it. I’d never even heard of anything like it.

The smoky blackness whipped out, striking me in the midsection. Lifted off my feet, I flew backward and hit the floor in the hallway. Rolling into a wall, I lost my grip on one of the blades. Stunned and disorientated, I struggled to my feet as the mass filled the foyer.

Letting instinct take over, I took aim and the dagger flew, going for the center of the mass.

The darkness blinked out of existence and my blade impaled the wall behind where it had been. A startled heartbeat later, the mass appeared directly in front of me.

“Holy shit,” I whispered.

The thing took form rapidly. One second it was nothing but a collection of pulsing, thrumming shadows and then it was a man staring down at me, eyes golden and lips curved into a cruel little smile.

“Hello there,” he said. “I’ve been looking for you.”

I swung, but he caught my arm with one hand and slammed his fist into the center of my chest, knocking the air out of me and my feet out from under me. I skidded backward, past the offices and into the kitchen, crashing into the bar stools.

The power of my grace wiggled alive, but I fought it back as I wheezed for air. Spinning around, I grabbed a bar stool as I felt the heat hit my veins. I couldn’t let the demon know what I was. I couldn’t—

Misha was coming down the hallway with one hand on the wall, still in his Warden form.

The Upper Level demon turned to Misha, and I swung the stool as hard as I could.

It never connected.

One hand shot out, and the demon caught the leg of the stool. He looked over his shoulder at me and smiled. The scent of burning wood filled the kitchen. A second later the stool went up in flames, becoming dust in a heartbeat.

“Jesus,” I whispered, jerking my arm back. This demon could control fire.

“Not quite, darling.”

Screw not tapping into the grace. I spread my arms, letting the warmth in the pit of my stomach grow.

“Do it!” Misha shouted as something heavy hit the kitchen door and landed in the kitchen, the impact like an earthquake. Without looking, I knew in my bones it was Zayne, and he was about to get the show of his life—

Everything happened so fast, too quickly for me to react.

Something akin to recognition flickered over the Upper Level’s demon’s face when it locked eyes with Zayne. Then it spun and shot toward Misha. It crashed into him and then they were both in the air, flying back toward the front entrance.

I shot forward, chasing after them as panic snuffed out the fire building inside me. My feet slipped over the shattered hardwoods and I tripped over the broken door as I rushed toward the front door.

“Misha!”

Zayne caught me, his warm hand heavy on my shoulders. “Trinity—”

“No! Get Misha!” I struggled against Zayne’s hold, straining to break free. “Let me go! We have to—”

“It’s too late.”

“No!” I screamed, kicking back and hitting his legs. “Let me go!”

“I can’t.” His arms folded around me, drawing me against his chest. “I can’t let them have you. I can’t. They’re already gone.”

I stopped fighting, staring at the sky, unable to see the stars as horror dawned. Zayne was right. Misha was gone, into the night, into the darkness.