Silence, and then a low-pitched shriek reached my ears. Stepping back from the glass wall, I took a deep breath. There was barely enough light from the solar and moonlight for me to see, but it was manageable. I’d dealt with worse conditions before with far less training.
A second later, a dark shape swept up from the side of the building and over the glass wall. It landed on two clawed feet a foot or so from me, and for a moment, I really wished I hadn’t been able to see the imp.
The thing must’ve fallen down a demon tree and hit every ugly branch on the way down. It looked like a giant, walking bat as it lifted nearly translucent wings and screeched.
I slammed the iron dagger deep into its chest. “Dumbass,” I muttered as the demon went up in flames.
Imps were notoriously violent and their claws were quite toxic to humans and Wardens, but they weren’t exactly known for their intelligence, as just proven.
Yawning, I pivoted and started back toward the door, dreams of the soft, Zayne-scented pillow occupying my thoughts. I made it two steps when a shadow dropped out of the sky, landing on the roof with a hard thump, and then another and another—
Seven imps stood in front of me, their bodies hunched. Maybe eight.
I skidded to a stop, my eyes widening as one of them hissed. Imps never traveled alone. I’d forgotten. “I’m the dumbass,” I whispered, backing up as my grace throbbed inside me.
One of them lurched forward, and I hit the floor of the roof. Its outstretched arm swept over my head, and I popped up, shoving the dagger into its back. Heat blew back at me as I whirled, jabbing the dagger into the chest of another.
Flames erupted as a wing cut through the air, slamming into my side, and knocked me sideways. I tripped over a lounge chair that seriously came out of nowhere, landing in...plush grass.
Oh, hey, I found the green space.
I sprang up, scanning the shadowy rooftop, and spun around, heart thumping as I looked for any sign of the imps. There had to be five or six left. I wasn’t sure. Counting was hard.
A blur of matted fur and red appeared in front of me. The imp was too close. I jumped back, grabbing the lounge chair that had just attacked me. Picking it up, I threw it at the imp.
The imp squeaked when the metal chair smacked it in the face. I stopped, never hearing a sound like that come from an imp before. “You sound like a dog toy. It’s kind of cute.”
Swiping the chair aside, it charged me.
I danced to the side, catching the demon in the throat with the dagger. The scent of sulfur choked me as I hobbled over the remains of the chair. “You don’t smell cute, though.” I gagged. “Or look cute at all—”
Talons gripped the back of my shirt, and a heartbeat later, I was in the air, high above the roof and rapidly climbing. The way-too-large shirt lifted as the imp flew over the roof. I began to slip out of the shirt. Panic exploded. What undies did I grab? Oh God, it was the pair that had Hump Day plastered across the ass. I was going to fall out of this damn shirt to my death and be found splattered on the sidewalk in undies that said Wednesday and it was Sunday.
People were gonna think I’d been wearing these for days. The medical examiner was going to be horrified.
I could not let that happen.
Still over the roof, I swept the daggers in a high, wide arc and sliced them through the imp’s arms.
The imp shrieked as hot, wet blood sprayed the top of my head, and then I was falling, and fast. A wicked sense of déjà vu hit me, but this time there was no Protector to save me. This fall wouldn’t kill me, but it was going to hurt bad, like a whole lot of broken bones kind of hurt, and I just got done healing.
At least, I didn’t think this fall would kill me. My heart stuttered as I braced myself for pain—
An arm snagged me around the waist, stopping my free fall so suddenly the air was punched out of my lungs. I was a yo-yo, jerked up so fast that my entire body spasmed. My hands opened and the daggers slipped free, falling to the roof as my back connected with a hard chest that was colder than the air.
Wintermint surrounded me.
Heart thudding fast and heavily, I turned my head, catching the sight of plump white feathers streaked with gold cutting through the air.
Zayne had caught me.
Where he’d come from or why he was here didn’t matter. He caught me, just like he had before, and that was further evidence he was still in there.
“You saved me,” I gasped. “Again.”
“Did I?”
“Obviously,” I forced out, barely able to breathe through the gust of the cold wind as I looked over my shoulder.
Vivid blue eyes lit by grace met mine. “Huh.”
I started to frown. “What does ‘huh’ mean?”
He veered to the left, out of the path of an imp. “It means this.”
Zayne let go.
He dropped me.
10
Zayne actually dropped me.
I was too stunned to even scream as I plummeted. There was a shriek as the dark shape of an imp shot toward me, and wouldn’t that be some shit if a damn imp saved my life.
Zayne caught the imp midair—
The shock of water seized my lungs as it reached up and swallowed me, dragging me down. Chlorine burned my eyes and nose.
I found the stupid pool.
Sinking to the floor of the pool like a bag of rocks, a red-hot fury whipped through me, igniting my grace. The corners of my vision turned white as I planted my feet on the bottom of the pool and kicked off. I swam upward, propelled by pure, unfettered rage. I broke the surface, dragging in mouthfuls of air as I shouted, “Asshole!”
The answering chuckle set me off further. I might have had an anger-induced blackout, because I didn’t even know how I made it to the deck of the pool. Water coursed off me as I splashed forward, the shirt clinging to some very unmentionable places. Heat rippled down my arm, followed by swirling white fire. Grace exploded from my hand, spitting flames as my fingers curled around the heated handle forming against my palm. The sword was heavy but inherently familiar.
An imp dropped out of the sky, landing in front of me. It opened its mouth.
“Shut up,” I snarled as I sliced the Sword of Michael through the demon, my attention solely focused on the golden-white wings ahead.
Someone was about to lose some pretty feathers.
An imp erupted in flames as Zayne whirled toward me. His mouth opened as if he were about to say something. He snapped his jaw closed, his chin lowering along with his stare.
“That was not cool,” I bit out.
“You stank of demon blood,” he replied in that flat voice of his. His head tilted. “You’re very wet, little nephilim.”