Storm and Fury by Jennifer L. Armentrout

32

Ididn’t cry.

I wanted to, but the tears built and built and went nowhere as I lay on my back, wishing I was looking at stars.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d let myself cry. When Mom died? No. Holy crap, even then, I’d held it in. Sure, I’d felt the burn of tears in my throat and in my eyes, but I’d never let them out.

I couldn’t let them out now.

I didn’t get much sleep. Every time I did fall asleep, I jerked awake what felt like minutes later, pulling myself out of nightmares surrounding a bleeding, dying Misha or dreams where I was following Zayne but could never reach him no matter how fast I ran or how many times I called his name. That happened all night, so when I finally awoke in the early morning and could see the faint light of dawn seeping under the heavy blinds, I gave up on sleep.

I rolled onto my other side and reached for the worn book on the nightstand. Curling my fingers around the frail binding, I pulled it close to my chest and held it there as I closed my eyes.

I needed to get my life right.

That’s what I realized in those early-morning hours as I lay in Zayne’s bed, holding my mother’s book to my chest. I thought about what had happened last night between Zayne and me. I thought about what the witch had told Roth and me, and I thought about what could be happening to Misha at this very moment.

I didn’t for one second think that Bael just wanted to capture, kill and then sell me in pieces to the coven. There had to be more behind this, and that was what I needed to focus on. Not whatever had happened between Zayne and me.

I was going to find Misha, and then I’d help Zayne and his clan find this thing that was killing them, and then Misha and I would go home. Zayne... He would just be a memory. Hopefully, when I had some distance, it would be a good memory, but even if it was still a sad one, it wouldn’t matter, because I would have Misha and Jada. I would have my duty—Misha and I would have our duty.

But what if tonight led us nowhere?

The demon took Misha to get to me. He’d already sent Hellions and imps after me. What if the only way I was going to find Misha was to give Bael what he wanted?

Me.

I squeezed the book to my chest as my stomach dipped and twisted. That sounded...insane and reckless, but I would be willing to do it. If we didn’t get answers tonight...

I must’ve dozed off again, because I woke to find Peanut sitting on the edge of the bed and my mother’s paperback stuck under my chest.

“Morning,” Peanut said, swinging transparent legs. “Well, it’s almost afternoon. You should get up and, I don’t know, do something productive.”

I frowned at him.

“And you may want to get up soon, because I think Mr. Brooding Hot Gargoyle Man-Boy is making bacon.”

Bacon?

I’d get up and face Zayne completely naked for some bacon.

I shifted onto my back, pulling the book out and placing it on the nightstand. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to get right with your life.”

I rolled my eyes.

“It’s almost noon,” he replied. “Is everything okay with you and Zayne? When I came back, you two weren’t all snuggled up like little cuddle bugs.”

I didn’t want to even think about the fact that he’d seen us together, and I also didn’t want to acknowledge the way my chest spasmed. “Things are fine,” I said finally.

“Sure didn’t seem like that last night.”

“Speaking of last night...” I sat up and pushed my hair out of my face. “Who is this girl you’ve been talking to?”

“Gena? Oh, she’s awesome. She saw me a couple of days ago when I was checking out the lobby. She’s introduced me to Stranger Things and I’ve introduced her to Star Wars. You know, the original three, which are the only ones that count.”

I didn’t know how I felt about someone else being able to see Peanut. “How old is she?”

“Fourteen? I think? She’s cool. You’d like her. I should introduce you two.”

My stomach pitched. “You haven’t said anything about me—about what I am?”

He rolled his eyes. “Duh. No. I’m not dumb. But if she can see me, doesn’t that mean she’s like you?”

“Not exactly.” I rose. “She’s probably got an angelic ancestor somewhere down the family line, but it’s not the same. I’m—”

“A special snowflake?”

I shot him a narrowed glare. “No. I’m first generation. I’d like to meet her at some point, but right now I’m going to shower and start getting my life right.”

“About time.”

Ignoring that, I went into the bathroom and took a quick shower, letting the hot water wash away what felt like a layer of funk. When I was done, I combed out the knots in my hair and changed into a pair of leggings and a lightweight, comfy shirt with a happy face in the center of the chest.

Peanut was gone from the bedroom. I stopped at the door and took a deep, calming breath.

I can do this.

I could walk out there, see Zayne and act...act right. I could do it. I had to do it.

So I did it.

As I opened the door, my stomach grumbled at the scent of bacon. Zayne was at the kitchen island, plucking the crispy strips out of the pan. My steps slowed as he lifted his head and looked at me. Even though I couldn’t see his eyes from where I was, I could feel the intensity in his stare.

A wave of awareness shimmied over my skin as I forced myself to keep walking toward. “Morning,” I murmured. “Or afternoon.”

Zayne placed a couple of strips of bacon on a plate, and as I drew closer, I saw the faint smile on his lips as he tucked a strand of hair back behind his ear. “I was just about to see if you were awake.”

“I am,” I said, and then realized how stupid that sounded. I went to the fridge and pulled out the bottle of juice. “Did you sleep well last night?”

“Yeah.” He turned, placed the tongs in the pan and dropped his hands on the island. “Actually, that’s a lie. I slept terrible last night.”

My gaze flicked to his, and I sucked in an unsteady breath. “I didn’t sleep all that well, either.”

“Sorry,” he murmured, lowering his gaze. “Hopefully the bacon and the news I have for you will make up for it.”

“Bacon pretty much fixes everything.” I sat on the stool, tucking my bare feet on the rail. “What news do you have?”

“Gideon called this morning,” he said, speaking of the Warden from his clan. “He got us the address of this senator. His primary address is in Tennessee, but he’s got a house just across the river, near the restaurant where we met Roth.”

“That’s good. So, we’re going to check it out tonight?” I could feel Zayne’s gaze on me as I munched on my bacon.

“Yeah, but I also got some more news.” He waited until I glanced up at him. “Gideon was able to track down the car that Bael was seen in. It linked back to a car service that deals only in government officials and diplomats. He reached out to the driver and, through some convincing, was able to get a list of who was being driven that day. It was only one person.”

“Let me guess. Senator Josh Fisher?”

“Yep.” Picking up a strip of bacon, he pointed it at me. “So, we had our suspicions before, but we definitely know now that Senator Fisher and Bael are connected.”

Hope sparked. “God. I know I shouldn’t be happy to hear this, but it’s—”

“It’s a clear lead. A connection.”

I nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “Tonight could be—” I cut myself off before I let hope carry me away.

Zayne caught on, though. “You could find Misha tonight. Or maybe we find information on where Misha is.” He pushed off the island. “It’s okay to have hope.”

“Is it really?” I wiped my hands off on the paper towel that had magically ended up in front of me. “Because what if we find nothing?”

“We might.” He came around the island, and I tensed as he stopped beside me, angling his body in between the other stool and me. He was so close that I could feel the warmth rolling off him. “But it doesn’t hurt to have hope that it will work out in the end.”

I thought that maybe too much hoping led to nothing but hurting, but I kept that to myself as I lowered my gaze. I ended up staring at his chest. He was wearing a gray cotton shirt that didn’t have a single splatter of grease on it. I had to think that took serious bacon-frying skills.

I drew in a deep, slow breath and caught the faint scent of winter mint. I swallowed. “Thank you for breakfast. I...I would say that one of the days I’d return the favor, but I don’t think you’d like that.”

“Why?”

“I can’t even boil eggs.”

He chuckled. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“Oh, no, it is. Once I tried to make a grilled cheese sandwich and got the bread and cheese stuck to the pan,” I told him, toying with the napkin. “And then I almost burned down Thierry’s house, because I was convinced that I could make fried chicken. I’m a disaster in the kitchen.”

“I can teach you how to make grilled cheese,” he said, and my gaze flicked to his. There was a warmth in his eyes that I wanted to fall into. “How about we try that tomorrow for lunch?”

My stupid, stupid heart skipped a happy little beat, and if my heart was right in front of me, I would’ve punched it. I stared down at my hands. “I don’t know.”

Zayne picked up a piece of my hair and tugged gently. “Learning how to make grilled cheese will change your life.”

Against my will and better judgment, my gaze lifted to his.

“Just say yes, Trin.”

I should say no, but because I was a grade-A glutton for punishment, I nodded.

Zayne smiled then, and it felt like a reward, which made me want to punch him now. That smile faded, though, as he drew his fingers down the length of my damp hair. “You locked the door last night.”

I stilled.

Zayne let go of my hair. “I...I wish you hadn’t.”

Air lodged in my throat.

“But it was probably a smart idea.”

Zayne had tried to come to me last night. Either because he couldn’t sleep or because maybe he’d heard me waking up over and over.

But he still had tried to come to me after everything, and I didn’t know what to think about that other than Zayne was most likely right.

It was probably a good thing I had locked that door.

Exhaling slowly, I pulled my gaze from the heavy thicket of elms. Dusk had fallen and we were on our way to Senator Fisher’s house, just outside of Bethesda.

We’d already passed several homes so large that even I could see them, but for the last mile or so, all I’d seen was trees.

Zayne’s phone rang, and he reached for it from where it sat on his thigh. “It’s Roth,” he told me, and then answered. “What’s up?”

I watched him and saw that a muscle flickered along his jaw, probably in response to something Roth said.

“Sure thing. See you in a few minutes.” Disconnecting the call, he placed the phone into the slot along the door. “We’re going to pull over here and walk the rest. Roth and Layla are almost here.”

I nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

Zayne parked just off the old gravel road. The trees hid the car from anyone on the road, and when I climbed out, I was immediately grateful that my shirt was loose as humidity smacked me in the face.

Zayne came around the front of the Impala, joining me. “We head west, through the woods, Gideon told me, and we should come to a gate. Roth and Layla will meet us there.”

I nodded, feeling the weight of the daggers attached to my hips as I stepped off the gravel and skidded down the little embankment. I scanned the trees. With dusk quickly turning into night, this wasn’t going to be exactly fun.

“Are you good?” Zayne asked, a few steps ahead of me.

I started to say yes, because I didn’t want to be a hindrance, but I couldn’t see crap in front of me and the terrain was completely unfamiliar. “I...I don’t—I can’t see a lot.”

Up ahead, Zayne stopped and turned to me. A second later, he was right beside me. Without saying a word, he took my hand, and I flushed. “It’s, like, rocky—the ground. Plus, there’s a lot of fallen trees and branches.”

“Okay,” I whispered, a little embarrassed and a little grateful. “Normally it’s not this hard. Back home, I can run the woods like nothing, because I’m familiar with the landscape. I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize.” He squeezed my hand. “It’s no big deal.”

“You have to hold my hand,” I pointed out as he led me around something large on the ground—a rock or branch.

“I don’t have to. I want to.” He caught a low hanging branch, holding it out of the way as we dipped under it. “And remember, I told you I would be your seeing-eye gargoyle whenever you needed me.”

Shaking my head, I laughed. “Well, you’re doing a really good job at it now.”

“Oh, I plan on excelling at it.”

I pressed my lips together, unsure how to take his light, teasing tone. I decided I could stress about it later, because Zayne’s steps slowed.

We were at the fence.

Slipping my hand free, I stared up at the lit cement pillars and the closed gate. I took a deep breath, tasting the fresh air that mingled with the crisp winter mint of Zayne, and—

“It’s weird,” I said.

“What?” Zayne angled his body toward mine.

“I don’t feel any demons. The only time I haven’t felt demons was when we were at your clan’s compound...and here.” I looked up at the gate. “I guess I was expecting to feel them here.”

“That’s got to be a lot to deal with in a city like DC, constantly feeling them.”

“I’m getting used to the varying degrees.” Lifting a hand, I dragged my palm over my forehead. “But if the senator is hooked up with Bael, wouldn’t there be demons here?”

“That doesn’t mean anything, really,” he replied, and I glanced over at him. A long moment passed as everything around us slipped farther into shadows. “Trin, I—”

I felt them then.

So did Zayne.

A hot breath along the back of my neck, and sudden heaviness in the air around us. We both turned to the gate just as a form appeared out of the shadows, on the other side of the gate.

“Roth,” Zayne said, stepping forward.

The demon prince stopped, and I squinted, seeing someone else behind him. I was guessing that was Layla. “We scoped out the house first. Appears no one is home.”

“Crap,” I muttered.

“Not bad news,” Layla spoke up. “We can get in and look around, see if we find anything.”

She had a point.

“And the senator will probably be home at some point tonight,” Zayne said, and I nodded. “Well, let’s get to some breaking and entering.” Placing his hands on the center of the gate, he twisted. Metal grinded and then gave way. The gate parted, swinging open. He stepped aside. “After you.”

“Show-off,” I murmured.

He chuckled. “What? You can’t do that?”

“I’m strong.” I nodded in Roth and Layla’s general direction. “But not that strong.”

“There was an alarm on the house, but we disarmed it before we came out here,” Layla said, and I wondered how that was accomplished without alerting the alarm company. I figured that was due to Roth. “We haven’t gone in yet.”

“Okay,” I said as we walked up the thankfully flat surface of the driveway.

Zayne fell in step beside me as Layla said, “Did you guys look into this senator? We did today, and he’s probably the last person you’d think would be involved in anything demonic.”

“Or the first person, if you ask me,” Roth chimed in. “The illustrious senator is involved in a lot of charities that benefit at-risk youth. Goes to church every Sunday. Comes from a long line of Baptist pastors. Married once, to his high school sweetheart, who passed away from breast cancer two years ago. Since then, he’s also been involved in health care reform and women’s services.”

The corners of my lips turned down. “Why would you think he would be the first person?”

“Because it’s always the last ones you suspect, in my experience. The ones who hide their dark souls rather than show the world what a shit ball they are,” he replied, and I shook my head. “And the fact that even though he’s involved in all these good works, he voted down every reform or bill that would have actually helped people in need.”

“Oh.” Well, that last part sort of sealed the deal.

“If we don’t get to meet the senator tonight, Layla’s going to try to find him so we can get a look at his soul, but I have a feeling we know how that’s going to turn out.”

Our pace picked up as the sprawling, one-level ranch house came into view. Floodlights kicked on, and I winced at the sudden harsh glare. Roth and Layla headed around the house, toward the back.

My heart was pounding as we walked under a breezeway and Roth stepped up to the back door. He turned the knob, snapping the lock in two.

“Now who’s the show-off?” Layla said.

“Me,” Roth quipped. “Always me.”

Glancing at Zayne, I took a deep breath. Nervousness filled me as I followed Roth and Layla inside the dimly lit house.

Zayne was behind me. “I haven’t seen any cameras yet, but keep an eye out for them.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Roth replied.

We started opening door after door, revealing empty bedroom after empty bedroom, and with each vacant, normal-looking room, more disappointment surged through me. By the time we checked out all the bedrooms, the living room, a kitchen and a den, I knew Misha wasn’t here.

I didn’t think Misha had ever been here, and if I had been honest with myself from the moment we learned about the senator, I’d known deep down that he wouldn’t be here. It would’ve been too easy.

“Here’s an office,” Layla called from the other wing of the house as I stood in the middle of a large, sunken living room.

There were photos framed on the walls, and as I walked over to them, I could see that they were of a family. Their faces were nothing but blurs, but I imagine the senator’s living room was no different from millions of others. I reached up, touching the black, matte frame of one photo. Dust covered the tip of my finger.

“Trin?” Zayne called from behind me.

I turned, arms at my sides as I opened my mouth, closed it and then tried again to find words. “He’s not here. Not Misha. Not the senator. Nothing. I don’t think anyone has been here in a while.”

“Trin.” Zayne’s voice was soft as he stepped toward me. “I’m—”

“Don’t say it.” I held up my hand. “Please don’t apologize right now. This is just another dead end, and Misha is out there, somewhere, most likely being tortured to death, and what are we doing?”

“We’re trying to find him.”

“What if we never find him? What if we don’t find him in time?” My heart was pumping too fast as I turned away. I didn’t make it very far.

Zayne snagged an arm around my waist, pulling me toward him. I protested, but he folded his arms around me, one hand folding along the nape of my neck. I shuddered at the contact, and when I felt his breath along my forehead, I squeezed my eyes shut.

“We’re going to find him,” he said. “We will.”

Resting my cheek against his chest, I didn’t give voice to what I was realizing. That the only way I could get to Misha was by using myself as bait.

“Hey.” Roth’s voice intruded. “Layla has found something I think you guys are going to want to see.”

Zayne was slow to pull back, but he didn’t let go. His hand was still curled around the nape of my neck. “We will, Trin.”

Swallowing hard, I nodded.

“What did you find?” Zayne asked, sliding his hand off me.

“Follow me.”

I got my feet moving, ignoring the curious look Roth sent my way. We followed him back to an office lit by a desk lamp. There were walls of books. A freestanding globe. More pictures of what I was guessing was the senator’s family. Layla was behind the desk, her hair nearly white in the glow of the lamp. She was staring down at what appeared to be large papers that covered nearly the length of the desk. Roth walked over to the globe and started spinning it as Zayne joined Layla.

There was a weird twinge in my chest, seeing them together, and I ignored it, because that twinge was so, so wrong. Crossing my arms, I walked to the desk.

“What is it?” I asked, since I couldn’t make out any of it.

“It looks like...” Zayne turned over a paper. “It looks like plans for a school?”

Layla peered around him. “Yes.” She pointed out several marks. “These are classes...and over there are dorms. What is...?”

Zayne leaned in. “Nursery?”

The globe stopped spinning. “What kind of school has a nursery?” Roth asked.

Unease slithered down my skin. “That’s a good question.”

Zayne shook his head as he lifted a thin sheet. “There’s a company name here. Cimmerian Industries. Have you heard of them?”

“No. But the word Cimmerian—” Roth’s head jerked to the side, and I felt it.

Pressure settled between my shoulder blades, and my head jerked up as Roth lifted his chin, his nostrils flaring.

“Demons?” I asked, reaching for my daggers.

“You can feel them?” he asked while Zayne and Layla stopped riffling through the papers. “And know it’s not us you’re sensing?”

I nodded. “I feel you two, but this is more...intense.”

Roth inclined his head toward me, and I’d swear he pouted. “I don’t feel intense?”

“Wow, Roth. Sensitive, aren’t you?” Zayne planted a hand on the desk and vaulted over in, landing in a crouch. As he rose, he shifted.

The gray shirt split up the center and down the back as his skin turned from golden to deep gray and wings unfolded behind him.

It was a rather impressive sight to behold.

I dragged my gaze from him to Roth. “What I mean is that I can feel you and Layla, but I can feel the presence of...more.”

Roth appeared appeased by that answer.

“Layla, do you have your phone on you?” Zayne asked, striding toward where I stood.

“Yeah,” she answered.

“Can you take pictures of all that real quick?” he asked. “And text it to me?”

Layla whipped her phone out of her pocket. “On it.”

My fingers curled around the handles of my daggers as I strode toward the windows. I could see nothing beyond them. I unhooked the weapons. “Do you think the senator and possibly Bael are returning?” I asked, even though that didn’t make much sense to me. There were no headlights out there. No car coming up the driveway. “Or something else.”

“If it’s Bael, he’s about to get the surprise of his life,” Zayne growled. “Look at this. Can you see it?” he asked, turning to me.

I squinted as I saw what looked like...like fog rolling over the driveway and the front yard, so thick it was like a wave of storm clouds on the ground. “I can see it.”

“This can’t be good.” Zayne’s wings tucked back.

“I got the pictures.” Layla came around the desk, slipping her phone into her pocket. “I don’t see a car coming up the driveway and I haven’t seen a single camera anywhere.”

“Well, what’s coming our way is a crap ton of demons,” Roth said, his voice low. “And I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“The witch told you about the senator,” Zayne said. “Is there a chance that she would’ve given the senator or Bael a heads-up? Thrown us under the demon bus?”

“If she did, she’s not only a stupid witch, she’ll be a dead witch,” Roth snarled, and I saw him shift. His skin thinned as an oily darkness seeped out, turning his complexion from olive to obsidian. His wings were nearly as wide as Zayne’s, but he had no horns.

“Holy crap,” Layla whispered. “How many are there?”

My heart skipped a beat as I strained to see anything in the fog outside. “I don’t see anything...” I trailed off as several shapes began to take form in the thick mist. “Oh, Hell.”

There were...dozens, some tall and some small. Some walked. Others crawled. There were even some in the air. I’d never seen so many demons in one place.

I turned to Zayne. “I thought you said there weren’t a lot of demons around?”

“Yeah,” he drawled the word out. “There weren’t.”

“I think they’re all here now,” Roth said as he glanced at Layla. “If things go south, I want you out of here. Go home to Cayman—”

“Are you high?” Layla demanded. “If things go south, I’m going to kick some butt.”

“Layla—”

She held up a hand. “Do not forget, I’m a badass.”

“There’s about forty-plus demons out there.”

Forty-plus? God.

Zayne towered over me as he spoke. “If you need to use your grace, do it. You got it? If you tire out afterward, I’ll make sure nothing gets between you and me.”

Heart thumping, I nodded. “Got it.”

“If you’re staying, you should get ready, Layla,” Zayne advised as the things in the fog stilled ten or so feet from the house.

Layla shifted then, drawing my attention, and I didn’t understand what I saw. She looked like she normally did, except she had wings—black, feathered wings.

“Feathers. You have feathered wings,” I said dumbly.

“I do.” Layla’s left wing twitched as she grinned at me. “It’s a long story, but the gist of it is that I almost died and, well, this is what happens now when I shift.”

I stared at her. “You look like an...an angel. If an angel had black wings.”

“I’m no angel.” She lifted a shoulder. “I’m just...unique.”

“That you are, babe,” Roth replied, extending his hand to her. She took it, and they stood side by side in front of the window. He leaned down and whispered, “I know you’re a badass. Won’t ever forget that.”

I looked away from them just in time to see one of the tall forms come toward the window. It stopped too far out for me to make out details.

“It’s an Upper Level demon,” Zayne explained, knowing the features were nothing but a blur to me. “It’s not Bael. I’ve never seen this one. What about you, Roth?”

“Like I said before, I’m not friends with all demons.”

Zayne snorted.

“Hello?” the demon outside the house called out, sounding like he was there to sell Girl Scout cookies or something. “We know you guys are in there.” He lifted an arm and waved. “Hiya! What do we have? A...half-breed daughter of Lilith. A demon prince who’s been very, very bad. A Warden who keeps strange company, and an actual, living and breathing...Trueborn?”

“Well,” I said, brows lifting. “Is there a breed of demons that have X-ray vision?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Roth muttered.

“Are you wondering how we know?” the demon called out, and I rolled my eyes. “I’d be happy to tell you guys, and I hope we can make this a pleasant experience for everyone involved. Let’s start by me introducing myself. I’m Aym, but some know me as Haborym. I’m a handsome little devil, but don’t let my pretty face and charming disposition fool you. I’m a Grand Duke of Hell, ruling over twenty-six legions of demons, and half of them are here with me tonight,” he purred. “I’ve burned castles and entire cities to the ground, leaving nothing but ash and death in my wake when I don’t get what I want. Just, you know, a heads-up.”

Roth yawned.

“Oh, and you could consider me...Bael’s personal assistant,” Aym continued. “So, now that we know who I am, do you have any questions?”

“Yeah,” Zayne called out. “Why did we have to get stuck with such a damn talkative demon? This makes killing you so much more time-consuming.”

“For once, Stony, you and I actually agree on something.” Roth laughed.

There was a deep, rumbling laugh that rattled the windows, causing my eyes to widen. “The Warden speaks first. Interesting. You don’t want to chat? Fine. We’re here for the Trueborn.”

“No shit,” Roth muttered.

“Give her to us and we’ll let you all go about your merry little ways.” Aym paused. “Pinkie swear.”

“Not going to happen,” Zayne replied. “You might as well move on to option B.”

“Well, option B is you all die. Starting with you, Warden. I’m going to burn you alive.”

My stomach twisted sharply while Zayne seemed not at all affected. I stepped forward and called out, “What do you want from me? To cut me up and give to the witches?”

“Ew,” Layla murmured.

“Not at all, my dear little nephilim,” cooed Aym, and I stiffened. “We just want to love you and hold you and become the very best friends ever.”

“Wow,” I said, hands tightening on the dagger as Layla and Roth exchanged a look. “Where is Misha?”

“Your Protector?” he asked. “Why, he’s right here, waiting for you.”

My heart might’ve stopped in my chest. It felt like an eternity that I was frozen, and then I reacted without thought or hesitation.