Storm and Fury

by Armentrout, Jennifer L.

  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.

  18

  I sat on the couch, knees pressed together and my hands clasped in my lap. I was still wearing the borrowed dress.

  It was ruined.

  The front of the dress was torn over my knees. Soot and demon blood dotted the bodice and waist. I needed to change and shower, because I felt like there was a layer of grime and gore covering me, but I couldn’t leave until the group that had left to search for Misha came back.

  A huge group had gone, including Dez and Zayne. Even Matthew had joined them, and now Nicolai and Thierry were in a corner of the room, speaking in low voices. Jada had arrived with Ty once the all clear had been sounded. She sat beside me, her nervous glances bouncing between Ty and me. She’d given up on trying to talk to me about half an hour ago. I was strung too tight to form words.

  “What happened? I don’t understand what happened,” Peanut repeated over and over as he drifted near the couch. I’d already explained to him what I knew, but he still didn’t understand, because none of it seemed real.

  The Upper Level demon had taken Misha. Anger was a storm in my gut, a fury directed at Thierry and Matthew and everyone in the world, but mostly at myself, because I could’ve done something to stop this. If I had used my grace instead of fighting
it, I would’ve been able to stop this demon before he took Misha.

  But instead, like all the damn times before, I had done what had been expected of me. I’d hidden my true power. Just like I had when my mom was murdered.

  It was more than my inaction. This demon, he’d come for me.

  My fingers curled around my knees as I closed my eyes. If something happened to Misha... God, I would never be able to forgive myself. I would never—

  Voices from the front of the house snapped me out of my thoughts. My eyes opened and I was on my feet, coming to stand beside Nicolai.

  Zayne and Dez entered first, in their human form, and behind them was Matthew. The moment my gaze met Matthew’s, I knew—they hadn’t found Misha.

  Dez reached me first, his gaze somber. Sympathy etched into his handsome features as he placed his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  “He’s not dead,” I said, breathing deeply as I stepped out of his grasp. “I know he’s not dead.”

  Dez glanced at Zayne and then to where Thierry and Nicolai stood. They didn’t understand that I would know if Misha was dead. The bond would tell me if he died, and I hadn’t felt that.

  I turned to Thierry. “Misha is still alive.”

  He nodded and then focused on the group. “Did you find anything?”

  “We did,” Zayne answered. “About two miles from here there was a large passenger van on the side of the road. The driver was still there, but he was dead.”

  “Human?” Nicolai asked.

  Zayne nodded. “Dead. Throat slit. We took care of it.”

  Taking care of it meant they most likely got rid of the van and the body.

  “There was nothing else,” Matthew said wearily, sitting beside Jada as I stood in the center of the room. “Nothing that told us if they belonged to the church, but it would be safe to assume that they did.”

  That didn’t make sense to me. “Demons are manipulative, but there were Nightcrawlers with them. How in the world would the demons have been able to hide them?”

  “They may never have seen them,” Zayne answered. “They could’ve traveled here separately, but I recognized the demon who took Misha.” His stare flickered from me to his clan leader. “I’ve seen him before in DC. Engaged him a couple of times. He’s a fast one, strong, and can control fire, which he usually uses for the perfect distraction to make his escape. His name is Bael.”

  Bael?

  My knees felt weak. Bael wasn’t just another ancient, powerful demon.

  “Bael?” Jada asked, looking around. “Everyone just got superquiet. I get that he’s an Upper Level demon, but I sense there’s more?”

  Wardens that weren’t being trained were given only a cursory education in demonology. They didn’t get all the gory details.

  “Bael is a King of Hell,” Nicolai explained. “Back in the old days, he used to roam topside as a false god. One of our Wardens first saw him around January, but Bael didn’t want to engage. We thought he was in the city messing with one of the politicians. Bael is known for his ability to sway minds. Every time we saw him, he kept his distance, giving us a Hell of a chase through the city. Like Zayne said, he uses fire to help make his escape. Burned down a ton of buildings in the process, but we haven’t seen him... Hell, in three months?”

  “The last time I saw him was at the end of March,” Zayne answered. “He was the last Upper Level demon I saw in the city.”

  “Do you think he followed your clan here?” Ty asked, standing behind Jada. He placed his hands on her shoulders.

  Nicolai didn’t answer for a long moment. “Anything is possible, but if he did, why would they wait until now to attack? We’ve been here nearly a week.”

  Part of me couldn’t believe it had only been a week. It felt like so much longer.

  “The Wardens at the wall were killed in a way that suggests they didn’t see it coming,” Dez explained, crossing his arms. “All of them were shot in their human form, direct hits to the chest or the head.”

  “What happened tonight has to be connected to Clay,” I said, shaking my head. “And the Ravers? We know that you never see them without an Upper Level demon near. They were right outside these walls, and that poor human guy Wayne was killed by an Upper Level demon. And the attacks on the other communities? They were searching—”

  “We are looking into every possible connection,” Thierry cut in before I could say what they could’ve been searching for.

  “I know Clay was an utter dickhead, but working with demons? How would he have been in contact with them?” Ty thrust a hand over his short hair. “I don’t know about that, Trin.”

  But some Wardens did work with demons.

  My gaze slid to Zayne and I felt my stomach pitch. Zayne had worked with demons and had even suggested that he didn’t believe all demons were evil. An uncomfortable heaviness settled over me, and I stared at him while the rest of the group talked about upping the security at the wall and sending out scouting groups more regularly in case there were plans for a second attack.

  None of this had started until he arrived. Clay hadn’t tried to attack me until they’d been here for a few days, but why would Zayne or any of them be behind this? It wasn’t like they knew what I was.

  At least, that was what I thought.

  My heart started pounding in my chest. The DC clan knew I could see ghosts and spirits, and Zayne realized I was stronger than I looked, faster than he’d expected. I hadn’t exactly tried to hide that from him, and the whole time he’d been here, he seemed to be everywhere I was.

  Zayne slowly looked over at me, his striking face unreadable as our gazes connected. A chill skated down my arms, leaving tiny bumps behind.

  If I was any bit right, I still didn’t know why Zayne or his clan would be behind this, which was why I didn’t say anything. I might be impulsive, but I was smart enough to not suggest such a thing without hard-core evidence.

  But was there already evidence?

  Zayne was missing a part of his soul, and that could be reason enough to do evil things.

  * * *

  Jada had fallen asleep on the couch and the DC clan had retreated with Thierry and Matthew into the office. Ty had carried Jada upstairs to one of the extra bedrooms and I’d followed, going into my room. I finally stripped off the ruined dress, leaving it on the floor of the bathroom, a crumpled mess of gauze and cotton.

  I never wanted to see it again.

  I swooped down and picked up the ruined dress. Balling it up, I shoved it into the trash can and then backed up, looking down at myself.

  My knees looked angry and spotted, like a strawberry. Twisting at the waist, I saw that my elbows did, too. That wasn’t bad. Not at all, because it could’ve been so significantly much worse.

  What was happening to Misha right now?

  Horrible, horrific things.

  I couldn’t process what happened. This wasn’t a nightmare. This was real. Misha had been taken, and if the demon didn’t happen to know who or what Misha was to me, he would be killed.

  And if Bael knew, and that was why he’d grabbed Misha?

  Then there was a chance that he’d keep Misha alive. I had to think that he took Misha to use him as collateral. At least that was what I hoped, because that meant there was a chance I could get Misha back.

  Steam filled the space and I stepped into the shower, hissing as the hot water pelted the raw spots on my skin. The water felt like it was only a few degrees short of scalding, but it did nothing to ease the coldness that had settled deep in my bones and marrow.

  I showered in a hurry, watching the sooty water circle the drain. By the time I stepped out of the tub on shaky legs, I was exhausted. I didn’t stop to look at myself again as I dried off and changed into the clothing I’d brought into the bathroom with me. The leggings were a little hard to get on with my sk
in still damp, adding to my angry frustration. The shirt was easier, thank God, and when I stormed out of the bathroom, I’d already broken a sweat. All I wanted to do was lie down, but there was no time for that.

  Peanut was hovering by my bed as I stalked toward the bedroom door. “What are you doing, Trinnie?”

  “Going back downstairs to see what they’re doing to get Misha back,” I told him, opening the door and stepping into the quiet hallway.

  Peanut followed me to the closed office door on the first floor. I knocked and Thierry’s muffled voice answered. Opening the door, I found that everyone was still in his office. The DC Wardens had found shirts, replacing the ones ruined when they’d shifted. Thierry was behind his desk and Matthew leaned against the edge of it, face weary.

  Thierry didn’t look surprised to see me as I entered the office. “What is it, Trinity?”

  “I want to know how we’re going to get Misha back,” I said, stopping behind where Nicolai and Dez were seated. I didn’t look at Zayne, but I knew he was standing by the window. I kept my gaze trained on Thierry.

  He leaned back, the chair creaking under his weight. “We’re sending more scouts out in the morning,” he said.

  “What if they’re no longer nearby?” I asked. “When the scouts went out earlier, they saw no sign of Misha or the demon.”

  “That’s a good question,” Peanut chimed in.

  “That doesn’t mean they haven’t holed up somewhere,” Matthew reasoned. “We will leave no square foot unchecked.”

  That...that wasn’t good enough for me.

  I wanted people out there right now, looking for him. “You know what Misha means to me,” I said, struggling to keep my voice level. “He’s still alive, but the longer we wait—”

  “Why do you think he’s still alive?” Zayne asked from where he stood, drawing my gaze. “I hope he is and that would be great news, Trinity, but demons don’t keep Wardens alive unless...”