“In the closet.” I shoulder past Chaz and show Rosdan where it is on the shelf.
He brings it down for me and opens it on the bed while I gather a few shirts. I toss them in and return to the dresser for the rest. Jeans, underwear, another few bras. When I turn, Chaz is beside the bed with shampoo and body wash. I nod, surprised he’s helping.
He stuffs them in along with my armful of clothes and shakes the bag to make more room. “Anything else?”
I scan around, looking for my clean laundry. “Let me grab something to sleep in—”
With my first step toward the door, a hand clasps on to my upper arm. Chaz drags me backward until I hit his chest, and his other arm snakes around my waist. I look up at him behind me, but he’s watching something outside my room.
The rest happens fast.
He whips to Rosdan by the bed, and his brother throws my bag at us. At the same time Chaz catches it, Rosdan hurls a lightning bolt from his palm. It strikes the chest of a man in the doorway. He flies into the drywall but vanishes before he hits the ground.
Demons.
And then they pile in through the door, and Rosdan dives for us. The bright light from earlier surrounds us, Chaz’s hold on me tightening as the world turns white and hot around us. I only get through a single breath before we’re in Chaz’s living room again.
He lets go of me and my bag, shaking his head as he runs into the kitchen. “Sorry, dude, but—”
“No,” Rosdan says. “Blocker bag in case they followed.” He no more than finishes when he disappears.
By the time I get to the kitchen, Chaz is cinching shut the black velvet pouch. He tosses it in a cupboard and slams it closed. Sighing, he turns around and plants his hands on the countertop, hanging his head between his shoulders.
“You good?” he asks.
He looks up, and I nod.
“Good.” He takes off the amulet and lays it on the counter. “Everyone’s fucking good, and you have clothes.”
“Right,” I say, deciding not to tell him I only have half my clothes.
In about twelve hours, he’ll find out on his own.
Cass continues to glower at me from the opposite end of the couch while I dick around with the blade. Since he and Hannah are on Kai and Avery duty tonight, he thought he’d come here to help—or babysit, as he put it. He’s not ecstatic that we left here to go to the only other place guaranteed to have Lowers watching, and that it resulted in us being on the receiving end of a demon firing squad.
“Recast the amulet spell,” he says, “so I’m not tempted to finish what the goddamn Lowers started.”
But he’s hiding the emotions well.
I mumble the spell and fight not to wince as the darkness balls in my chest to get away from the light.
“You think a few drops will do it?” I ask, unscrewing the top from a vial of Nephilim blood.
He shrugs, and I decide fuck it and pour it all out onto the steel.
Cass leans forward, and we watch the blood smooth over the broad side. I flip it, and the other side is entirely covered too. Sparks of light seem to flicker beneath, trapped inside the metal.
“Shit.” I set the blade on the table. “Is that my light?”
He reaches out, curling his fingers back in a moment of hesitation before he snatches the handle. “Now, how the fuck do we get it out of there?”
We exchange looks, and because we’ve known each other since our beginning, I know we’re both thinking about Rosdan’s offer to stab me.
I tip my head in suggestion, and Cass shakes his in a hard no.
“I am not dealing with Hannah if she finds out I stabbed you when you can’t heal.” He rotates his wrist to pass me the knife. “You’re on your own with this little experiment, brother. In fact, I don’t even want to be here when it happens.”
I put the blade down as he stands up. “Not sure I’m up for it tonight anyway.”
He looks at the closed bathroom door. Nyx has been in the shower for-fucking-ever, and I’m starting to wonder if she’s staged an elaborate escape plan. Dug a hole through the wall or something.
“Are you telling Hannah they’re related?” I ask.
He shrugs, still staring at the door. “If I wait, she won’t have to live with the guilt of choosing to save you over her only living relative.”
I see the torn look on his face and have a Rosdan moment, swooping in for a hug.
He stays absolutely still and lets out a slow, impatient-as-fuck breath. “You really want me to wipe you from existence, huh?”
I chuckle, slapping him on the back a few times before I pull away. “Come on. We all know the Kasdaye lineup of love.” I hold my hand like a shelf. “Hannah.” I move it down a notch. “Chaz.” Then another with each item. “Your motorcycle, cigarettes, and then Rosdan.”
He blankly stares at me and then walks out without a word. The door across the hall shuts a few seconds later, and I imagine Cass is already bitching to Hannah that he wants me immortal again, so he can punch me in the face.
I go back to the blade, still flickering and taunting me with what’s just out of reach. Sighing, I flip it around and press the tip between my ribs. Right over my scar. I blow out a few quick breaths, and then just before I plunge it into myself, the energy dancing through the metal fizzles out. A second later, the blood starts to drip onto me and the carpet.
Of course, this is the exact position Nyx finds me in when she finally swings open the bathroom door—bloody dagger poking into my side.
“Chaz!” she squeaks more than says. “What did you do?” She rushes over and moves the blade out of the way, lifting up my shirt. Her hand is already splayed over my abs when her eyes snap up to mine. “You’re not hurt.”
I shake my head but get distracted as my gaze rakes over her. She has on a familiar-looking T-shirt—mine—that hangs to her mid-thigh, and everything from there down is bare.
Her hand falls away, and she stops holding up my shirt. “I forgot a few things at my apartment.”
She flushes and starts for the bedroom, and I have no issues with watching her go.
After I reengage the blocker bag, I clean up my mess in the living room. Maybe I’ll give Rosdan a little time with the blade. See if he finds a method that doesn’t risk massive blood loss and a trip to the ER.
I lock it in the box hidden behind books on a shelf in the living room. In case Nyx gets any ideas.
The amulet is still active. Just like Rosdan predicted, each time I cast, the longer the spell works before the crystal powers down. It’s also getting stronger. Badass because, soon, I’ll be able to use it in place of my light. But the space between the light and dark is hurting more each time.
I’m rubbing my chest as I walk into the bedroom. Nyx is cross-legged on the bed. She has the tie, dragging the silk through her closed palm. Trying not to smile, I bring the chain over my head and lay the amulet on the nightstand. Then I beckon her over, and she walks on her knees to the edge of the bed.