21
I came awake with a gasp, jerking upright and coming face-to-face with Peanut...
Who was blowing on my face.
“What are you doing?” I asked, heart thumping.
“Making sure you aren’t dead.” He drifted to the other side of the bed. “Guess what?”
“What?” I shoved a chunk of hair out of my face as an unseen weight settled on my shoulders. I knew what that feeling meant. “Demons,” I whispered, shoving the thick blanket off me and swinging my legs off the bed. “There are demons nearby.”
“What?” Peanut screeched.
Launching off the bed, I raced to the bedroom door and threw it open. My bare feet skidded over the cool cement floors as I scanned the room for Zayne. I saw a rather large, still shape on the couch and I hurried around it.
Zayne was asleep on his back, his head turned toward the back of the couch. One arm was under his head and the other hand rested in a loose fist on his chest.
His bare chest.
The gray blanket had pooled around his lean hips, and I really hoped he was not completely naked under there. I wouldn’t think that he would be, considering that I was here, but most Wardens slept in their true form. It was how they got their deepest sleep, so it was strange to see Zayne sleeping like this.
“Zayne,” I said, voice thick was sleep. “Wake up.”
He didn’t move.
I reached for him, gently touching his shoulder. There was an odd static charge that radiated up my fingers and made no sense. “Zayne—”
He moved so fast that I didn’t even know what was happening until I was on my back and he was above me, one hand planted on my shoulder, pressing me down into the thick cushions of the couch. My wide-eyed gaze swung to his face, and I saw that his pupils were vertical.
“Jesus,” I gasped, frozen.
It seemed to take a moment for him to recognize me and realize that he had me pinned underneath him. The pupils were first to shift back to normal, human-looking eyes. “Trinity, what are you doing?”
“What am I doing?” I blinked once and then twice. “You’re asking me what I’m doing when you just flipped me in midair?”
“Yes.” He was still above me, but his hand came off my shoulder, landing in the cushion next to my head. “I was asleep.”
“I know.” I dared to glance down and saw that he wasn’t nude, thank baby gargoyles everywhere. He was wearing what appeared to be gray sweatpants. “I tried to wake you up. I called your name, but you didn’t respond.”
“Sorry,” he grunted. “Not used to people being here.”
“I can tell.”
“What time is it?” He looked toward the kitchen. “It’s only four, Trinity. You should still be asleep.”
“I know, but I woke up.” I kept my arms still at my sides. “I sensed demons. It woke me up.”
“I don’t feel them.” His head cocked, and several strands of golden hair fell across his cheek.
“I’m more sensitive to them,” I explained. “I can usually sense them minutes before a Warden does, and I can feel them now. There are demons here, Zayne. Not in your apartment but close. Probably outside, on the streets or—”
“They probably are outside on the streets,” he interrupted with a sigh.
“Okay. Then we need to get up and go—”
“There are demons everywhere here,” he said, his eyes meeting mine. Well, only one eye. His hair shielded the other. “Probably just Fiends out walking around. They’re the only ones active in the day, usually in the late afternoon.”
“And we’re still lying here because...?”
“Fiends are relatively harmless, Trinity. All they do is mess around with electronics and crap. They don’t really bother humans.”
I knew that Fiends were somewhat harmless and that they appeared as human as he and I unless you looked really closely at their eyes. Light reflected off them weirdly. Fiends were pretty much why Murphy’s Law existed. If everything went wrong for you in one day—your car breaking down, stoplights out of service, your favorite coffee shop closed and your office without power—a Fiend was most likely behind it.
“You don’t...hunt them?” I asked, confused.
He didn’t answer for a long moment. “I used to hunt demons indiscriminately, no matter what they were guilty of.”
“Isn’t that kind of your job as a Warden?”
“Yeah.”
When he said nothing else, all I could do was stare at him and wonder what in the Hell had I gotten myself into. No wonder he wasn’t the clan leader. How could he be when he didn’t hunt Fiends? And I couldn’t forget he’d worked with demons before. But his clan appeared to trust him, at least enough to allow me to stay with him even knowing what I was.
“You’re a strange Warden,” I whispered.
One side of his lips kicked up. “And you’re just...strange.”
“I think I’m offended.”
The half grin slid into a smile. “You’re going to need to get used to sensing demons. I wasn’t joking when I said they’re everywhere here, especially the lower level ones like Fiends.”
“Okay,” I said, because I didn’t know what else to say. I was wholly aware of the fact that I was still lying underneath him, and even though our bodies weren’t touching, I could feel the heat rolling off his skin. The last time we were in this position, I’d kissed him, and we’d both had a Hell of a lot more clothes on then. “So, um, are you going to let me up?”
Zayne blinked as if he just realized I was under him, and for some reason, that felt more offensive than him saying I was strange. Like, was he that physically ambivalent toward me?
Damn.
“Yeah, I guess I can do that.” Zayne rocked back smoothly, and I rolled out from underneath him and then off the couch. I came to my feet. His chin dipped as he dragged his lower lip between his teeth. Shoulders tensing, he looked away. “You should probably try to get another hour or so of sleep.”
I started to protest since we both were already awake, but it was at that exact moment I realized I hadn’t changed into my pajamas before my nap. All I’d done was take off my jeans, which meant I was in my shirt and undies, and my shirt was not a long one.
He could see my undies.
My black-and-white skull-print undies.
Oh my God.
Face burning, I spun and darted back across the room and into the bedroom, closing the door behind me. I leaned against it, eyes closed.
I was such a mess.
* * *
It was close to six when Zayne and I left his place to go speak to this friend...who didn’t sound like much of a friend.
Before I left Zayne’s bedroom for the second time, I made sure I actually had pants on and had dug out the hip holster that secured the blades. It was another gift from Jada, one that I’d actually never used, but was relieved to see it fit and was well hidden under a much longer shirt.
Now I found myself in the garage staring at a black, sleek Chevy Impala parked next to some kind of fast-looking motorcycle, trying desperately not to think about the fact Zayne had seen me in my undies.
I was impressed as I eyed the Impala, having not seen one this vintage in person before. “Are you a Supernatural fan?” I asked.
Zayne stepped around me and opened the passenger door. “Not until recently. Had the car before I was introduced to the world of the Winchesters.”
“Oh.”
He turned to me, holding the door. Like me, he was wearing sunglasses. His were silver aviators and the lenses were reflective. Mine were oversize to the point that they probably made me look like an insect and the lenses were as black as I could get them.
Those full lips tilted up on one side. “Are you going to get in?”
“Oh,” I repeated. “Yeah.”
Z
ayne was behind the wheel in a nanosecond, it seemed, turning the key. The engine rumbled to life.
“So, where are we going?” I asked.
“Across the river. Shouldn’t take too long to get there,” he said, pulling out of the parking spot as he glanced over at me. “Buckle up.”
I hadn’t even realized I hadn’t done that. I snapped myself in and then all but planted my face to the window as he pulled out of the garage and stopped when we were greeted with bumper-to-bumper traffic. My wide gaze tried to take in everything that I was seeing.
It was nothing like earlier, when I was looking out the window from high above.
Buildings of every size and color seemed to be crammed on top of one another like thick fingers stretching into the early-evening sky, blocking out most of the fading sunlight. There were people everywhere.
Everywhere.
I’d never seen so many people on a sidewalk before. Even in Morgantown when I was younger, it was never like this. There had to be hundreds of people, their forms and faces nothing but blurs to me as they hurried around slower-walking people and cut in front of traffic. Horns blared. People shouted. Not only that, I still sensed demons, and knew that some of those people weren’t exactly people. Sound poured in from every direction, and it was all a little overwhelming. I could barely tell the difference between humans and ghosts as it was. How was I going to be able to tell now?
“There are a lot of people,” I stated.
“This is actually not that bad,” Zayne replied, and my wide-eyed gaze turned to him.
“Really?” I whispered.
He nodded. “It’s after rush hour. If we came out about three hours earlier, it would have been double this amount.”
“Holy crap.” I was glad I hadn’t come out here by myself. I wasn’t afraid of large crowds, or at least I hadn’t thought I was. Now, I wasn’t sure.
I turned to the passenger window. My thoughts wandered as I stared out, seeing a hazy view of buildings that eventually became a kaleidoscope of elms and parks. I started to think about Misha, about what could be happening to him, and I had to force my thoughts elsewhere. I couldn’t let myself fall down that rabbit hole. I hadn’t felt the loss of the bond, so he was still alive and that was what mattered.
I found myself thinking about what Zayne had said earlier about being forced to watch someone he cared for being hurt and not being able to help them. He’d been right yet again. I didn’t know a lot about him, and I wanted... I wanted to know more.
“We’re here,” Zayne announced, startling me from my thoughts.
I focused on our surroundings and was surprised to find that we were on some kind of private road, pulling up in front of a...mansion?
Plastering my face to the window, I squinted at the massive two-story brick structure with freaking white pillars lining a wide porch that appeared to circle the entire home.
Yep, that was definitely a mansion.
I didn’t move, even when Zayne killed the engine, and as I drew in a shallow breath, I felt the heavy presence of... demons. They could be literally anywhere. I’d felt them nearly the whole way here with the exception of when we were crossing a bridge.
“You okay?” Zayne asked.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “Where are we?”
“Just over the river in Maryland. It’s the... It’s a private home,” he said, tone distant enough that it pulled my gaze to him. He was staring at the house also, his expression tight. “Two people live here, but I think others come and go.”
“Wow. Only two people live here?”
“Yeah,” he murmured, taking off his sunglasses and placing them in the visor. “But look at Thierry’s home. That was double this size, and how many people lived there? Four?”
He had a point. “Are you okay?”
Zayne blinked and looked back at me, his expression smoothing out. “Always.”
My brows lifted, but he opened the door and climbed out, and I decided it was time for me to do the same. Leaving my bag on the seat, I brought my phone with me.
As I walked across gray pavers, I noticed that it was warmer here even though the sun was behind the house. The breeze wasn’t as cool as it had been in the mountains.
“Hey.”
I stopped, turning to Zayne.
He stared down at me, the wind tossing that strand of hair across his cheek. Then his chest rose with a deep breath. “Just a heads-up. The guy you’re about to meet? He is...different.”
“Different as in?”
“He’s a demon.”
“What?” I gasped, reaching for my blades out of habit.
“Bad Trinity,” Zayne murmured, catching my wrists before I could grab the blades. “Hear me out. There’s no reason to be murderous. None of the people here—”
“You mean none of the demons here—”
“None of the people here are going to hurt you or me.” Zayne kept his voice low and calm, but his eyes narrowed.
Holy crap, Zayne really did work with demons. I don’t know what I’d thought. That it was something he’d done only in the past? That he didn’t actively work with demons now?
Zayne stepped in front of me, still holding my wrists. “I know this is odd, but I’m telling you that they are okay. I’ve known one of them half my life, and if we want help finding Misha, these are the people who can provide it.”
I immediately knew who he was talking about.
The girl—the half Warden and half demon that had been raised with him. That was who lived here? Biting down on my lip, I looked over my shoulder to the huge house. Could I do it? Walk into a house that demons lived in and ask for their help?
What would my father think?
Hell, he’d have a fit. Part of me expected him to appear and strike Zayne down and then cart me off back to Thierry’s.
“We are safe here,” Zayne continued, letting go of my wrists to raise the sunglasses to the top of my head so he could see my eyes. “Do you trust me, Trinity?”
“I...” I wasn’t sure how to answer that question. Part of me did, because he’d given me no true reason not to trust him, but I was still wary of him, of all of this. I drew in a shallow breath. “You really think they can help us?”
Zayne nodded. “I do.”
This was huge and potentially crazy, but I would do anything to find Misha, even if that meant going against everything I’d ever learned.
“Okay,” I said.
Letting go of my wrist, he turned with me to the house and we started toward it.
The double bronze doors were already open and a man stood there. He had icy blond hair that hung past his shoulders, and he was wearing a...romper?
Yep.
Definitely a black romper.
The hot breath on my neck and the heaviness increased. My steps locked up, and I immediately reached for my blades.
The man in the romper was a demon.
Zayne placed his hand on my lower back, giving me a gentle nudge forward as the demon stopped at the top of the steps.
“This is a surprise,” he said.
I stopped at the base of the steps, glancing at Zayne.
“It’s okay.” Zayne took my hand in his warm one. He led me up the steps. “This is Cayman.”
Cayman tilted his head as his gaze flickered between us. “Long time no see, Zayne.”
“It has been a while.” He stopped before Cayman, and since we were close, I noticed that the demon’s eyes were the color of rich honey. He wasn’t a lower level demon. “Is he here? I need to see him.”
“They’re both here.”
Zayne’s jaw clenched. “Great.”
Cayman looked down at our joined hands and slowly looked up. “It is.” He turned on bare feet. “Follow me.”
A wave of goose bumps erupted over my skin as we followe
d, stepping into a large foyer. I looked up, saw a huge crystal chandelier. Fancy. Zayne let go of my hand as we walked under a wide spiral staircase. Looking around, I noticed some...odd paintings on the wall. Some were muted shades of red and black, paintings of fire next to large, blown-up black-and-white photographs of skyscrapers.
“So, Zayne, my man, when you going to let me take the sweet ride for a drive?” Cayman asked, glancing over his shoulder. His brows were nearly black, and the contrast was striking on him.
“When you stop making deals, Cayman.”
My gaze sharpened. Was Cayman a demon broker? They were Upper Level, but sort of like...middle management, making deals with humans for their soul. They were known in pop culture as crossroad demons, but you didn’t need to find a road somewhere deep in the south to summon one. Often, you could find them at bars and other places where humans who were full of angst were drawn.
“Well, that’s never going to happen,” the demon said.
“I know,” Zayne replied, and I couldn’t fathom how he could chit chat with a demon that stole people’s souls.
“Sorry about the living room. It’s kind of a mess. We were marathoning Avenger movies and we kind of built a pillow fort in the process.”
A...pillow fort?
The demon in front of me wore rompers, wanted to drive Zayne’s car and also built pillow forts?
Had I fallen outside and hit my head?
Zayne didn’t respond, but then Cayman hung a left and I saw what he was talking about. The living room was huge with floor-to-ceiling bookcases on either side of a television so big that I hadn’t even known they made them in that size. A large sectional sat in the center of the room, and on the floor in front of the TV was exactly what Cayman had stated.
A fort made of colorful throw pillows, long narrow body ones and fluffy white ones.
It looked so comfortable.
I pulled my gaze from the fort. The largest bowl of popcorn I’d ever seen sat on an end table, next to a half-eaten roll of...cookie dough?...and about three bottles of orange juice.
What an odd combination.
Storm and Fury Page 24
