Storm and Fury by Jennifer L. Armentrout

23

“Well, that was fun, wasn’t it? Can’t wait to do it again,” I said when Zayne climbed behind the wheel of the Impala. I waited until he closed the door and then I leaned over, socking him in the arm.

“Ouch.” He looked over at me, eyes wide. “What was that for?”

“That was for not telling me that we were going to see the freaking Crown Prince of Hell.” I punched his arm again.

Leaning away from me, he rubbed his arm. “What was that for?”

“That was for being a dick to Layla.” I cocked back my arm one more time.

Zayne’s hand shot out, catching my fist. “Hitting isn’t nice,” he said. “And I wasn’t a dick to her.”

“Yes, you were.” I tried to pull my hand free, but he held on.

“Look at you. After one meeting with demons, you’re now defending them.” Zayne lowered my hand to the space between us.

“No, I’m not.” I totally was. “What the heck was up with you and her?”

Zayne’s pale eyes met mine. “You’re not going to hit me again if I let go? I’m fragile.”

I snorted. “I won’t hit you again.”

He let go and then turned the key in the ignition. The engine rumbled to life.

“So?” I asked.

Zayne sighed as he shifted the Impala into gear. “Things with Layla are...complicated and that’s all I can really say about that.”

“That doesn’t reveal much more than I already know.”

When he didn’t respond, irritation spiked and, underneath it, a thin slice disappointment lit up my chest. Why wouldn’t he tell me what had happened between them? There was a massive wall around Zayne, made of granite and stubbornness.

Zayne was quiet as he drove. The sun had set, so I pulled the sunglasses off the top of my head and placed them in the sun visor.

“Do you think they’re going to help?” I asked, focusing on important things that weren’t his personal issues.

“Yes, I do.” Zayne kept one hand on the steering wheel and rested his right arm along the back of our seats. “If anyone can find information on where Bael holed up or what he’s planning, it’ll be Cayman.”

I thought about the demon in the romper. “He seemed really scared of me.”

“Yeah.” Zayne chuckled. “He was.”

It was a weird thing to smile about, but I grinned. “So, he’s a deal broker?”

Zayne nodded. “He doesn’t seek humans out. They tend to find their way to him, wanting or needing something that they’d give up anything for, including their soul. Messed-up thing is that most humans want utterly inconsequential things. They give up a part of their soul for a promotion, or to be with someone who probably doesn’t even deserve them.”

“Just a part?” I asked. “I thought they gave up their whole soul?”

“No, just a small part of it.”

“And...you think that’s okay?” I asked.

“I think that when humans use their free will and jeopardize where they end up when they die, that’s on them. We do everything we can to keep them safe from demons who break the rules, and you know there are rules. There must be a balance of good and evil,” Zayne said as we neared the bridge that led back into the city. “Cayman follows those rules.”

I knew there were rules and that the balance of good and evil stemmed from the concept of free will.

“I don’t know what to think about all that,” I admitted, staring at his shadowy profile.

Zayne was quiet for a long moment. “You know, I was a lot like you for, Hell, my entire life. I saw things in black and white. No gray—except for Layla.” He was staring straight ahead as he spoke. “I used to think that the Warden part of who she was canceled out the part of her that was a demon. I would even tell her that, when she was younger and would come to me, worried about what she was, upset that the clan never would accept her or worried that something was wrong with her. I always stressed to her that she was part-Warden and that was all that mattered. I was wrong.”

I kept my mouth shut, listening to him as some instinctual sense told me this was something he didn’t talk about a lot.

“I should’ve told her to accept the part of her that was demon, and I should’ve accepted it, because what she showed me...what I was a little late in realizing...was that what you are at birth does not define who you become.” His jaw tightened. “Did you know until today that demons could love?”

“No,” I whispered. “I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t know that until I met Roth. He’s one of the most powerful demons you will ever come across, and he is still deadly when provoked. But the fact that he is capable of the kind of love he feels for Layla tells me that what we’ve been taught isn’t necessarily the truth at the end of the day.”

Fiddling with the strap of my seat belt, I still had no idea what to say. Agreeing with him went against everything I’d ever been taught, too, but he was right about Roth loving Layla. I’d seen that with my own eyes, heard it in the way he spoke to her.

What if we were inherently wrong about some demons? And if that was the case, how would one even begin to decipher how to proceed with them? Were some of them out there, trying to live their best life, and were Wardens supposed to just ignore them? How would Wardens even tell?

Zayne seemed to sense my thoughts. “Not many demons are like the ones you just met, and it’s fairly easy to tell which ones are.”

“How?”

“You can usually tell by one simple fact.” Zayne grinned at me. “They don’t try to kill you on sight.”

Zayne and I were patrolling and it involved a lot of...walking.

A lotof walking.

And it wasn’t particularly the easiest thing with my eyesight. I wished it was dusk, which was the best time of day for me to see. If it was, I’d be able to actually check out the city. The sidewalks were lit well enough for me to walk without stumbling, but my depth perception was off and I was having a hard time not walking into people while trying to decipher if the people on the busy sidewalks were all alive or if some of them were dead, or if they were demons.

We’d returned to the condo Zayne was staying in, grabbed a quick bite to eat at a diner down the street and then I held up my end of the bargain.

I patrolled with Zayne, keeping an eye out for the mysterious being that was slaughtering Wardens and demons alike.

We’d been at it for at least two hours, and so far, all we’d seen was a handful of Fiends who’d hightailed their butts in the opposite direction the moment they saw Zayne.

“Is that normal?” I asked as we neared an entrance to a subway. “The Fiends running the moment they see you?”

“Yep. They don’t ever engage.” Zayne led me down the subway stairs. My heart skipped a beat. Steps were the worst in poor lighting. I clasped the railing, taking my steps cautiously. “I leave them alone. Some of the other Wardens don’t, but like I said before, they’re relatively harmless.”

A part of me was relieved to hear that, because a lot of the Fiends I’d seen tonight had looked young, like teenagers, and I wasn’t sure if that was their true age or not.

“I have another question,” I said as I made it down the stairs without dying and we reached the dank, musty-smelling platform.

Zayne sighed. “Of course you do.”

I’d been peppering him with questions all evening, and I knew I was at the height of annoying, but now I had a more serious question for him. “So, does your moving out and being all independent have to do with Layla?”

He walked ahead of me. “Why do you care?”

“Because I do.” I hurried to catch up to him. “And because the fact that you live by yourself is odd and, hey, if you’d answered the question before, I wouldn’t be continuing to ask it.”

Zayne’s exhale was loud as he stopped under the glare of a fluorescent light. “I just needed space, Trinity. After my father died, and after things with...with Layla, I turned down taking over the clan, because I needed space.”

For a moment I was shocked that he was actually answering the question. “What happened with Layla?”

He looked away. “It’s a long and convoluted story, but the gist of it is that the clan turned on Layla. Not all of them, but enough. After watching her grow from a little girl to a young woman, knowing what she was and wasn’t capable of, they assumed the worst about her and nearly killed her. My father led the charge against her,” he said, and I felt my stomach twist. “And it was my fault.”

“How was it your fault? What—?” I stopped, squinting, and stared at the space behind Zayne. “Um, my eyes may be messing with me, but...”

We were about five feet from the stairs, and the dark space between us and the steps was...shimmering and vibrating. The breath I’d been holding expelled harshly, forming puffs of small, misty white clouds. Icy wind barreled down the tunnel, blowing my hair straight back.

“What the Hell?” I muttered.

Zayne turned, backing me up. “Damn.”

“What?” I asked, peering around him, and then the low hum of warning exploded into pressure at the base of my neck.

The shape took form within seconds. A manlike creature, standing nearly seven feet tall. Muscles rippled under shiny, onyx-colored skin. Two thick horns jutted from the top of his head, curving inward. The points were sharp, and I had no doubt that if this creature head butted someone, he’d impale them.

Pupils shaped like a feline’s were set among irises the color of blood. Then it smiled, flashing two razor-sharp-looking fangs.

A Hellion.

Created by pain and misery, these creatures did not walk the earth. I’d read about them in one of the massive books Misha and I had studied. They existed in the bowels of Hell, there to torture the souls of the damned. They were forbidden to be topside, and yet one stood in front of the steps leading up to the world—to where people were strolling about.

But that wasn’t the most disturbing thing about it.

“It’s naked. Like really naked,” I said, reaching for my blades.

“I can see that.”

“Like I can’t unsee this, Zayne. It’s really supernaked,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t focus. Oh my God. Everything is just dangling out there for the world to see.”

“Would you stop pointing it out, please and thank you?”

“But why is it naked? Is there no clothing in Hell?” I thought that was a valid question.

“Maybe it wanted to impress you.”

I gagged. “I’m going to puke.”

“Try not to do it on me.”

Zayne shot forward then, shifting as he ran at the Hellion. He was in full Warden form as he slammed into the creature. The Hellion roared, knocking him to the side. He hit the wall with a grunt. Chunks of cement gave way under his impact.

I cursed, starting toward Zayne as he picked himself up. Relieved to see that he was okay, I spun on the Hellion.

Adrenaline kicked my senses alive as the Hellion eyed me. It tilted its head, sniffing the air through bull-shaped nostrils. Ignoring the fact that it was very, totally naked, I cocked back my arm, prepared to let one of my blades go, when the Hellion simply vanished. A second later, I felt its breath on my neck. I spun around. Two puncture holes bled, due to Zayne’s claws piercing his heavily muscled stomach.

I swung on the Hellion with my iron blade. It popped out of existence and reappeared a few steps to my left. Dropping down, I went for the legs of the creature, cringing because, yeah, it was naked. Before my kick could connect, the Hellion vanished again.

“Dammit!” I shouted, annoyed.

The sound of its deep, throaty chuckle alerted me to where the Hellion now stood. Jumping to my feet, I aimed the blade for the midsection—

Moving disturbingly fast, it caught my arm and then it had its hand around my throat, lifting me clear off the ground. Its body vibrated, and then a man stood before me, almost too beautiful to look at. The horns were still there, as were the fangs, but he looked as if he’d stepped out of a calendar of naked hot dudes.

Naked hot dudes with horns.

It sniffed the air again and growled. “He said it would be easy to find you. I didn’t think it would be this easy.”

“Who?” I gasped.

The dark-haired Hellion smiled, flashing fangs that did not remotely look human as he drew me forward, toward his mouth. “The one who is making your Protector bleed.”

Fury exploded inside me. My grace burned through my veins, but I pushed it down. Even though they knew what I was, I didn’t need to broadcast it to any other nearby demons. Gripping the meaty wrists, I pulled my legs up and used the Hellion’s chest as a springboard. The action broke the creature’s hold, and I rolled into the fall, springing back to my feet.

Zayne rushed across the platform, jumping over the guardrail. He hit the stunned Hellion in the back, knocking it down. They both fell to the hard cement floor and rolled, coming dangerously close to the edge of the platform and the tracks below.

“Don’t kill it!” I shouted. “He knows about Misha!”

“No promises.” Zayne swung, catching the Hellion in the jaw.

For a moment, I was a bit entranced by the brutality etched into Zayne’s striking face as he reared back to deliver another punch. Maybe it was because this was the first time I’d been out here, fighting like this. Misha and I had trained for this day, but outside of the Ravers and the attack when he was taken, I’d never experienced this.

The Hellion popped out of existence, and Zayne hit the floor, catching himself before he face-planted on the cement.

Reappearing above him, the Hellion grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and lifted him. Arching his back, Zayne swung his legs backward, locking them around the Hellion’s waist as he used both arms to break the Hellion’s hold. He swung down and planted both hands on the dirty floor. Using momentum and the Hellion’s weight, he flipped the creature head over heels.

An icy cold breath danced along my bare neck. Swinging around, I found myself face-to-face with another Hellion.

This one had skin the color of red coals. It shimmered and turned into another inhumanly stunning man—who was also supernaked.

“Grab her!” yelled the first Hellion.

“Done,” the one in front of me replied, its voice also deep and guttural.

“Do you guys not have clothes in Hell?” Letting instinct take over, I ducked under the Hellion’s arm and wrapped my arm around its neck, squeezing as one of the subway trains blasted its horn in the distance.

The Hellion laughed. “You like what you see?”

“Sorry,” I grunted. “Not interested.”

“Oh, but I am.” The Hellion swooped down, tossing me over its shoulder.

I hit the edge of the platform back first. Pain exploded through me, momentarily stunning me. In an instant, the Hellion was standing above me. I rolled, but not fast enough. Its foot landed a direct hit to my back, and before I could catch myself, I toppled over the edge of the platform.

The fall was only about four feet, but the landing still hurt like Hell. It wasn’t the third rail, however, and the blaring horn from the quickly approaching train washed away the pain. Springing to my feet, I ignored the pain and gripped the edge.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The Hellion was behind me, pulling me away from the platform. “Thought we were going to play?”

I briefly caught sight of Zayne moving behind the other Hellion, shoving his clawed fist deep into its back. Dark, oily blood gushed from the Hellion’s chest as a hole formed where the heart—I assumed they had one—would be.

The Hellion’s roar of agony told me that I’d been correct, and, well, I wasn’t going to get any info out of that one.

Zayne released the Hellion as it burst into flames. Within seconds nothing remained but scorched cement and a smell of sulfur.

He lifted his head and saw me. “Shit!”

A second later, he landed on the tracks beside me in a crouch. “Back the Hell off,” he warned.

The Hellion shifted back into its true form and laughed. “Step aside or I will spread your entrails over this yard and feast upon your heart, Warden.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“I’d like to see you die,” the Hellion snarled, baring fangs.

Light swallowed them as the train rounded the bend about half a mile down the tracks. My heart rate spiked as the Hellion disappeared.

“Behind you!” Zayne shouted.

I whirled around and swung, but the Hellion caught my fist. It tipped its head to the side. “Or perhaps I will just make you relive your worst memory over and over again until you claw at your own skin and beg for death. Ah, yes... Mommy? Care for me to remind you how she died? How you—?”

Rage, potent and lethal, rolled through me in poisonous waves and I felt my grace burning at my skin. “Screw you.”

I stopped thinking. Twisting, I bent at the waist as the Hellion closed in and kicked out, my boot catching the creature just below the chin. Its neck snapped back, and I spun around, slamming the blade through its neck first, just to hear its guttural scream. “Where is Bael?”

“Kill me now.” Blood sputtered from its mouth. “Because I’ll never tell.”

I lowered the dagger and pressed the weapon into its chest, piercing it. “Tell me where in the Hell is Bael!”

The Hellion lowered its head, let out a bloody laugh and then shoved itself fully onto my dagger. As sharp as it was, it sank deep into its chest.

“Dammit!” I shouted, yanking my hand back. It, too, burst into flames and then was no more. I started to turn toward Zayne—

He shot forward, pressing his body to mine and holding me against the stone wall. There was no space between us. A deafening roar filled my ears as the train barreled past us. The high-pitched shriek of the wheels rolling over the tracks pierced me. I could feel Zayne’s body tensing around me as my fingers dug into his arms. It felt liked the train would never end. The wind from its speed beat down on us, whipping at our clothing and hair.

Finally, the last car passed us, and with the threat of being run over by the train gone, I became aware of every place that part of his body touched mine. Neither of us moved. I couldn’t. Not with his body pressed so tightly against me.

Not that I really wanted to.

Zayne was still in his Warden form, his shirt shredded from the change, and the heat of his body seared through my clothes. The skin of his arms under my hands was rock hard and smooth, just like the skin of his chest pressed to my cheek. His head was still pressed against mine, his hand still around the back of my head. I hadn’t realized he’d done it when he leaped toward me, but he had gotten his hand between my skull and the wall, protecting me as he’d forced me against it.

He smelled... God, he smelled amazing. That winter mint scent invaded every pore of me, and with each breath I took, I could taste it on the tip of my tongue.

My lips parted as I shut my eyes, surprised that he was still holding me and suddenly, desperately, afraid that if I moved or did anything, he’d let go.

I didn’t want that.

I wanted him close. I wanted him closer. My pulse started thrumming wildly as I became aware of his heart pounding against my cheek. The hand at the back of my head spasmed, his fingers tangling in my hair, and a shiver rolled down my spine.

Zayne’s warm breath skated over the side of my neck as he slowly lifted his head. I forced myself to be as still as possible as his breath now danced over my cheek, and then I couldn’t be still any longer.

I shifted my head, chasing his warm breath and stopping only when I felt it on my lips. My eyes opened, and all I could see was those pale wolf eyes, heated and consuming. My gaze dropped, and I saw the thin slice of fangs parting his lips, but I wasn’t afraid.

I was enthralled.

I wondered what it would feel like to kiss him in his true form, and something I’d never, ever experienced before swept through me. Potent, paralyzing desire blossomed, leaving me feeling out of control and dazed and like...

Like I’d been waiting forever for this—for him.

Zayne suddenly broke contact and leaped onto the platform, leaving me cold in the absence of his body heat and wondering what just happened.

“Trinity,” he said, extending an arm as he crouched down. He hauled me up, and we ended up on our sides, facing one another.

I rolled onto my aching back and bent my knees. “Sweet Jesus.”

“Yeah.” He exhaled heavily. “Did it bite you?”

“No,” I answered. Hellion bites were extremely venomous. They would kill a human within seconds and could paralyze a Warden for days. “You?”

“No. You okay?”

“Just dandy.” I winced as I sat up. “Well, that was fun. They were looking for me. The first one said...”

“I heard what he said. He could’ve been lying.” He turned his head and looked at me. “Just to mess with your head.”

“Maybe,” I whispered, but I knew better than that. So did Zayne. “Did you see what that Hellion did? He impaled himself on my dagger.”

“I saw it.”

“He killed himself rather than tell us where Bael is.”

“Not at all surprised.” Zayne knocked a strand of hair back from his face. “You know what that means, right?”

“What?” I groaned, trying to knock the dust off me with no luck. I looked like I’d fallen into a pile of powdered sugar.

“Bael knows you’re here.”