Stone Cold Touch

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  the rapidly darkening streets. Zayne’s hand tightened around mine as we stepped around a cluster of people waiting for public transit. He sighed when he realized Roth was still with us. “Seriously? You gonna walk us to our car?”

  “Actually, I think I am.” Roth slowed his step, walking behind me. “We’re being followed.”

  Under the brim of his cap, Zayne’s eyes dilated as he looked over his shoulder. He turned back around, picking up pace. “Two human males?”

  “Yep,” Roth replied, popping his lips.

  I wanted to look behind me so badly, but I figured that would be a bit too obvious. “Any idea who they are?”

  “Nope. Maybe they want to get your phone number,” Roth replied. “Be a part of your fan club.”

  He’d once said he’d be the president of my fan club, which was really stupid, but my heart twisted a little at the statement, because it meant nothing. I inhaled the crisp air. “What do we do?”

  “Your car’s in the parking garage, right?” he said to Zayne. When I cast him a questioning look over my shoulder, he winked. “I was following you two.”

  “Great.” Zayne’s hand slipped free of mine and landed on the small of my back. “So you’re a demon and a stalker. Awesome.”

  “That’s clever, Stony.” Roth chuckled at the low growl emanating from Zayne. “Let’s see if they follow us. What’s the worst they could do? They’re humans.”

  I didn’t want to dwell on the fact that humans were capable of some pretty horrific things. I couldn’t help it. I thought of the last time Roth and I were in a parking garage with those Rack demons that had wanted to play ball with our heads. Like with alleys, I didn’t have a lot of positive experiences with parking structures.

  We rounded the corner and my breath was forming little misty clouds. My nose was cold as I finally looked back, past Roth. Several people behind us, the two young men were there, the tails of their shirts flapping. A glint of something metal reflected off one of their waists, partly concealed by his shirt. My heart turned. “I think one of them has a gun.”

  “Christ,” Zayne muttered.

  Roth snickered. “If they try to mug us, I’m seriously going to laugh.”

  “Only you would laugh at that,” I replied, wrinkling my nose. Mugging was not something I wanted to add to my list of messed-up things that happened this week.

  “What?” he said as we reached the walk-in entrance of the parking garage. “They picked the wrong people if that’s the case.”

  The garage was quiet and the overhead lights cast dull yellow beams over the hoods of the cars and spotted, stained cement. Not a damn thing about the place gave me that welcoming “nothing bad is about to go down in here” feeling.

  At the first aisle of cars, footsteps echoed behind us. Roth drew up short as Zayne turned, moving to stand in front of me. He took off his cap and handed it over. I wondered what he expected me to do with his hat. Not get dirt on it?

  One of the young men moved forward—not the one I’d seen with what I thought was a gun. Under the low light, his features looked swallowed, sunken in, as if he hadn’t eaten a good meal in a while.

  Roth crossed his arms, causing his shirt to stretch tight along the back of his shoulders. “What’s up, home skillets?”

  I rolled my eyes.

  Khaki Guy in the front reached behind him, and my heart stopped. Roth’s arms unfolded and Zayne started to drop into a crouch. The guy pulled out something black and rectangular—definitely not a gun. He lifted it in front of him like a shield, holding it in a white-knuckled grasp.

  Roth laughed loudly and deeply. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Khaki Guy held a Bible in his right hand. “We know what the three of you are,” he said, voice steady as his gaze moved over Zayne to Roth, and then to where I was peering around Zayne. “God’s mistake, a demon from Hell and something far worse.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  My brows inched up my forehead. How in the Hell was I the worst thing out of the three of us? Not that I should be paying attention to that. It was a big deal that this human knew about Zayne, and even more shocking was he knew that Roth was a demon, considering the whole humans must be kept in the dark when it came to demons thing.

  “I’m offended,” I grumbled.

  “The Whore should not speak in the presence of such holy text,” the guy spat out.

  “Excuse me?” I screeched, darting out from behind Zayne, who caught me around the waist. “Did you just call me a whore?”

  The man held the Bible in my direction. “You are the daughter of one. Does that not make you the same?”

  “Whoa.” Roth stepped forward, hands closing into fists at his sides. “That’s really impolite and kind of ironic, you know, using words like whore while holding a Bible.”

  “And that comes from a demon?” spat the other man. “You are the scourge of the Earth—a pestilence upon the people.”

  “I’d have to agree,” Zayne muttered under his breath.

  Bible Guy’s wild gaze swung back to him. “And you—you’re no better. Masquerading as our protectors while consorting with our enemies. False prophets!”

  “Church of God’s Children,” I said as realization sank in. Anger tasted like hot pepper on my tongue. Images of all those damn anti-Warden flyers that plastered electric poles danced in front of me. “You’re the fanatics that have absolutely no idea about anything.”

  “We know more than you realize,” Bible Guy announced proudly. He sneered as he looked at Roth. “We’ve always known of your existence, and it’s our goal to reveal the Wardens for what they truly are.”

  “Curious,” Roth murmured, shifting a foot closer. Bible Guy backed up as a little bit of his arrogance cracked like ice. “How do you know about us?”

  “We have our ways,” the other man answered. At his sides, his fingers twitched.

  Zayne took a deep breath. “We’re not demons. That’s the furthest—”

  “You’re with a demon—two of them,” he responded as he blinked several times. “Lies slip from your forked tongue.”

  Although I’d never been up close and personal with Zayne’s tongue, I so knew it wasn’t forked. “You don’t know anything about the Wardens,” I said, hoping to bring a dose of reality in their world. “If you did, you’d know they’re helping mankind. That there is nothing to fear—”

  “Shut up, whore of Satan.”

  My mouth dropped open and my head was about to spin Exorcist-style. I stepped forward as Roth cracked his neck, signaling he was ready to end this little conversation. “Call me that one more time and I’ll give you something to fear.” I had no idea where those words came from because, even with Zayne’s training, I wasn’t really a fighter, and I wasn’t a badass, but my lips curved into a cold, tight smile. “That’s a promise.”

  I felt Zayne’s stare—the shock and uncertainty, because I doubted he’d ever heard me sound so threatening before, but rationalizing with fanatics was as fruitful as having a lobotomy. Twice. The simmering anger, the outrage brewing deep inside me fueled courage. Probably not the greatest combination, but I latched on to it. My skin tingled and the back of my throat burned. Bambi shifted on my skin, her tail flicking along my lower back. I bet their souls tasted like watered-down strawberry juice—tainted. “Is there a reason you followed us, other than to preach hypocritical nonsense?”

  Bible Guy’s cheeks flushed.

  “I doubt it,” I continued before he could speak. “I doubt there is a single intelligent thing either of you two have to say.”

  “Layla,” Zayne warned softly, reaching my side.

  “You should’ve been put down the moment you were birthed from the womb,” Bible Guy said, and the sincerity in his voice was startling. “You’re an atrocity.”

  Whatever control I had was stretched too taut and snapped like a rubber band pulled to its limits. I moved faster than I probably ever had. Shooting forward, I snatched the thick Bible out of th
e man’s hands. Whipping my arm back, I swung it around and the sound of what had to be the most epic biblical bitch smack on Earth echoed through the garage.

  Roth’s surprised laugh shook me to the core. “Damn. That’s getting served. In the biblical sense.”

  Shock buzzed through me like a thousand confused honeybees. As the man stumbled back, blood seeped out of the split in the corner of his mouth. He turned wild eyes on me as he raised a trembling hand to his mouth. My gaze dropped to the Bible I held. The edge of the top was darker—stained. Zayne’s soft inhale rattled me and I dropped the Bible, expecting it to burn me.

  It happened too fast.

  The other guy lurched forward, his face a red mask of hate, contorted into something so ugly that it stole my breath. He reached under his shirt with his right hand, and I remembered seeing the glint of something metallic earlier. Roth cursed as the gun appeared in the man’s hand, but instead of taking aim at me, he pointed it at Zayne.

  “No!” I shouted.

  Zayne whipped around, and my heart jumped in my throat. I launched myself at him as a popping sound exploded. Before I could reach his side, Zayne shifted. His shirt split down the center and dark gray skin appeared. Something whizzed past my shoulder and the bullet found its mark, striking Zayne in the chest. He stumbled back.

  There was a blur of movement to my left as the scream froze in my throat. The silence was broken by a high-pitched yelp, followed by bones cracking, then this fleshy sound of skin giving. Bible Guy spun on his heel, taking off as if the very Devil was chasing after him. I didn’t care. He could run.

  I reached Zayne’s side, placing my hand over his chest. He was staring down at himself, quickly shifting back to his human form, skin becoming pink. “Oh my God...”

  “I’m okay,” he said, but the words barely registered. Heart pumping, I ran my shaking hand over his chest, searching for the warmth and wetness of blood. I didn’t stop until he grasped my wrist, pulling my hand away. “Layla, I’m okay. Look.”

  “How can you be okay?” My voice was thick with tears, edged with fear. “You were just shot in the chest.”

  He smiled when I lifted my gaze to his face. “Look. The bullet bounced off. I shifted in time. There’s just a bruise. Nothing more.”

  “Bounced off?” When he nodded, I glanced down and saw the bullet lying on the cement. The rounded edge was flattened, as though it had smacked into something impenetrable, which it had. My brain was slow to process it, and I should’ve known from the beginning. Zayne had shifted. A bullet wouldn’t breach a Warden’s skin.

  I launched myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and clinging to him like plastic wrap. My heart still pounded in a sickening way because, for a few horrific seconds, I’d believed that the bullet had struck true, and in human form, a Warden wouldn’t survive a shot to the heart.

  Zayne’s laugh was shaky as he gently detached my arms from around his neck. “You’re going to strangle me, Layla-bug.”

  “Sorry.” I forced myself to step back. Trying to get control of myself, I turned around, drawing in a deep breath. It got stuck.

  Roth was watching us, a distant look etched into his features, but it wasn’t him that caught my attention, that doused me with a bucket of ice water. On the ground, a few feet behind Roth, was the man who’d shot Zayne.

  Or what was left of him.

  The man’s right arm was twisted at an unnatural angle, like that of one of those creepy marionette puppets. Red stained the front of his white shirt and the gun...dear God, it was in the man’s stomach, the handle sticking out. I tried to draw in another breath, but my lungs were seizing up.

  He was still alive. I didn’t know how, but his chest rose in quick, sharp and shallow breaths. His dark eyes were wide and darting from left to right. His fingers twitched on his good arm.

  My feet moved of their own accord. I stopped short of the rapidly spreading pool of blood. He drew in another quick breath and when he opened his mouth, blood leaked out. “It’s all...over.... We know what’s happening....” His brown eyes lost their focus as the blood leaked from his mouth in a steady stream. “We know about the Lilin....”

  The man shuddered once and then there was nothing—no final gurgle or deep breath. The ragged inhale just stopped as his life seeped out of him. Although he’d tried to shoot Zayne and most likely wanted to kill him—kill all of us—seeing a life extinguished—a human life—wasn’t something I was okay with or even knew how to process.

  I pressed my palm to my mouth as I stumbled back. A hand steadied me, but I couldn’t look away from the young man. Within seconds, his skin paled, taking on the pallor of death. The life was gone so quickly. Over. Just like that. The man was dead and there was a good chance that it had been my fault. They might have walked away from this if I hadn’t antagonized them.

  “Oh God,” I whispered.

  Someone tugged me back and forced me around. Warm fingers pushed the hair off my cheeks as I strained to see the man on the floor. “Layla.”

  My eyes met amber-colored ones. Roth and I were so close—too close. His hands held me in place, spanning my cheeks, and his hips pressed against my stomach. “It had to happen. He was turning that gun on you and you wouldn’t have shifted fast enough. And he would’ve killed you.”

  “I know.” I did know that, but the guy was dead.

  “And you need to stop looking at him. No good is going to come from that.” His lashes lifted, stare fixing over my shoulder. “You need to get her out of here. I’ll take care of the body.”

  I didn’t want to know how he’d take care of it, and I wanted to not be such a wuss, so easily affected by a dead body, but my hands were shaking as his fingers slid off my cheeks. Roth’s eyes met mine for a second more and then Zayne was there, steering me away from the gruesome sight.

  As he led me back to the Impala, I glanced over my shoulder. Not at the body. The shadows seemed to have spread through the parking garage, becoming thicker and nearly tangible. We were only a few car lengths away, but Roth had already disappeared into the shadows.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, and I wasn’t sure who I was saying it to, but silence was the only response.

  * * *

  The ride home was silent and while Zayne left to brief his father on the altercation with the guys from the Church of God’s Children, I retreated to my room. I should’ve been present when he spoke to Abbot, but after last night, I doubted my being in the same room as him would help my current mood.

  I was itchy in my own skin. Bambi kept moving around, trying to get comfortable. I wished she’d just go chill in the dollhouse, but she wasn’t going anywhere.

  Tugging my hair up in a messy knot, I paced the length of my room. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the man on the dirty floor of the garage and heard his words. They knew—the church knew about the Lilin. How was beyond me. It was the same with Roth. How had they known about demons in general?

  I rubbed my hands together as I passed the front of my bed again. I still couldn’t believe I’d smacked the guy in the face with a Bible. That was terrible. Maybe not completely uncalled for, but my hand would’ve been a better choice. Then again, if I’d just kept my calm, maybe no one would’ve died. That was on my hands and I didn’t even know why I’d done it. Yes, I’d been rocking the full-on rage face, but I wasn’t typically the aggressor.

  And I also didn’t normally lick people’s fingers.

  It was something Roth would do—had done to me before. When he’d sucked off the crumbs from a sugar cookie.

  Roth.

  The twisty motion filled my chest.

  Ugh.

  Groaning, I stopped and sat on the edge of my bed, my back to the door. I’d forgotten about the whole “licking Zayne’s finger” thing in light of watching someone die. It had been better that way. Flopping down, I stared up at the ceiling. Sometimes it felt as though some kind of foreign entity was invading my body. I scrubbed my hands down my face, feeling as if
I needed a body cleanse.

  A knock on my bedroom door forced me up. Twisting around, I cleared my throat. “Yeah?”

  When the door opened and Danika appeared, my brows rose. She shifted her weight. “I was checking in—” pausing, she glanced over her shoulder “—on your arm?”

  Damn. I’d forgotten about that, too. “It doesn’t even hurt now.”

  “That’s what I wanted to hear.” She hesitated as she nibbled on her lower lip. “May I?” She gestured at the bed.

  Okay. This was weird, but I’d had so much weird in my life recently, I was interested in seeing where this was heading. I crossed my legs. “Sure.”

  Her smile was tentative as she closed the door and sailed across the room, sitting beside me. For someone as tall as she was, you’d think she’d be less graceful. Nope. The girl walked on water and the water probably liked it. “Do you mind if I take a look at your arm?”

  “Nope.” I reached down and tugged off my sweater. Underneath I wore a tank, which gave her perfect access. The cut on my arm was nothing more than a pink mark. The skin was puckered and that would