by Kat Colmer
I parked the Beetle as close as possible to the after-hours return chute and cut the engine. The sudden silence shot a frisson of fear up my arms. My stiff fingers clamped around the steering wheel. Do I really want to do this? But it was too late to change my mind.
Behind me, movement caught my eye. I froze.
“Lie still, or you’ll blow the whole thing,” I hissed under my breath as I reached for the pile of novels on the passenger seat.
“It’s not exactly comfortable down here,” Jonas grumbled from under the blanket covering his outstretched form.
Without turning my head in his direction, I glanced down to where he lay hidden on the floor between the front and back seats. “I’d have thought the backseat of a car was a familiar location for you.”
He stopped his wriggling. “The backseat, sure, but I’ve never had a girl ask me to get down on the floor before. You’re the first.”
Heat shot into my cheeks. “Will you stop already? This is serious.”
“You started.”
My scowl was wasted; he couldn’t see me from under the blanket. “Just…be ready.” I reached a not-so-steady hand for the door handle.
“Cora.”
“What?” I snapped. The upcoming face-to-face with Groth Maar demons was making me edgy. I needed to get out of the car before I changed my mind and jerked the gear stick into reverse.
Jonas pulled the blanket down a fraction so he could look at me. There was none of the usual cocky humor in his eyes. “I won’t let them take you.” It wasn’t so much a promise as an oath.
I stared into the gray-blue depths, so familiar yet so unsettling lately, and realized in this, I trusted him. Completely.
With a nod I clamped the books against my chest and slid out of the Beetle.
The night was bathwater-warm, and other than a faint buzz from the halogen light above the library’s entrance, it was dead still. Under my feet, gravel crunched like someone had spilled a packet of rice bubbles.
You can do this. I’d beaten a Groth Maar off before, and this time I had Jonas with me. Together, we could beat them into retreat. Besides, we had no choice; there was no other way of getting at the Book of Threads and ending this curse.
Trying to keep my steps unrushed, I strode over to the library entrance and sent the books sliding down the return chute into the safety of the building. They landed with a dull thud.
Followed by silence.
Overhead, the halogen light buzzed.
My heartbeat thumped in my ears.
Maybe they won’t come?
I turned, taking a step back toward the Beetle, when I heard the snap, crackle, and pop of tires on gravel.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jonas
Through the gap between the front seat and the open driver’s side door, I watched Cora’s shoulders stiffen. When I heard the slow creep of tires on the parking lot gravel, I had to grab onto the bottom of the front seat to stop myself from tearing out of the Beetle right then and there. Everything inside me screamed to get to her, to keep her safe.
Last night, with Cora trapped in the BMW’s headlights, the car hurling toward her, all my nightmares had rolled into one. If I hadn’t got to her in time, if they had somehow managed to grab her—
Why the hell did I agree to this? Why? There has to be another way.
No, the rational part of my brain told me, there isn’t. It also reminded me how well Cora could hold her own. I had enough bruises to prove it, despite my underhanded efforts to distract her yesterday. Knowing all this didn’t help muzzle the primitive part of my brain that just wanted to get her the hell out of there.
The black BMW dwarfed Cora’s Beetle as it pulled up beside it. When it stopped, a long pair of jeans-clad legs swung out on my side of the cab, then a car door slammed. Followed by another.
Two of them.
Either they knew Cora wasn’t alone, or they weren’t taking any chances. I hoped the asshole who attacked her last Thursday was one of them. My fingers clenched on the upholstery of the front seat; I wanted a piece of the bastard so bad I could taste it.
They strolled to the front of their car, not in any particular hurry. Using their footfalls to mask any noise I made, I slid out of the Beetle, crouched beside the BMW and pulled the GPS tracker Leo had given me out of my pocket. It only took a second to fix it securely to the belly of their car.
Then I lay low and forced my breathing to slow, my mind to clear, forced myself to wait.
“Why don’t you make it easy on yourself this time and come without a fight,” one of them said, his voice calm, almost soothing.
Cora come without a fight? I swallowed a snort; not likely. Slowly, I rose and peered through the car window, wanting to see her reaction. Head held high, and legs planted firmly on the ground, she looked ready to kick their demon asses back into the Old Testament.
“Do I look stupid?” Her voice was confident. Only the frantic hammering of her pulse at the side of her neck hinted at any fear.
“You’re right, Baptiste.” The other Groth Maar pushed away from the hood of the BMW. “She’s feisty.”
The creep has a name. Baptiste grabbed his partner’s arm. “Remember, Elymas needs her in one piece.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t have any fun.”
I ground my teeth at the tone in the unnamed demon’s voice. They stopped talking and advanced toward the building’s entrance.
Toward Cora.
That was all I needed. I rounded the front of the BMW, and boom! slammed my palm onto the hood of the car.
Bats in the nearby bush scattered into the darkness. The two demons spun around. I expected to see surprise all over their perfect faces but found none. They’d known Cora wouldn’t be alone. But how?
Cora moved, lightning fast. Kick aimed high, her foot slammed into the side of the nameless demon’s face. He went down, ate gravel, but as Cora turned to deliver a kick to Baptiste’s gut, the first demon was already halfway up as though she’d only slapped him in the face.
Not good.
“You take him,” she shouted, pointing to the demon she’d just kicked in the head. I almost argued. I wanted to beat the crap out of Baptiste, show him a whole new level of purple pain. Instead, I swung a punch at the other one’s flawless face. Up close his features were even more unsettling, like someone had airbrushed all his imperfections and sucked out his soul.
He swerved and dodged my fist. The next moment pain shot up my side where he landed an elbow.
Shit! A fricking sledgehammer to my ribs. Guard up, I spun, expecting another assault, only to find the demon swaying and grasping a hand to his own side.
What the hell? I hadn’t even hit him.
I glanced in Cora’s direction. Baptiste’s volley of punches was pushing her back toward the BMW.
A sliver of panic across her face set me into motion. Ignoring the sting in my side, I spun and buried a heel in Baptiste’s kidney. He hissed, lost his footing. Seeing the opportunity, Cora slammed a vicious knee to his groin. He buckled with a groan.
I had no time to smile at the sight; my own hellhound had recovered, coming at me again with a swing. I sidestepped. He missed. I followed through with a blow to his back. My reward: a fist to the jaw on his upswing.
Fuck! White flecks danced across my vision as my mouth flooded with coppery warmth. Did these bastards have titanium-infused bones?
I sucked at the muggy air, steeling myself for a second blow. It didn’t come. When I looked up, the unnamed demon was holding a hand to his own jaw, a pained but pissed-off expression on his Calvin Klein face.
What the hell is going on? Then it hit: The Protection Charm. They feel each blow they inflict!
Something collided with me: Cora.
“You okay?” she asked. We stood back to back, her eyes on Baptist
e as he collected himself off the gravel. Demon recovery time was frighteningly fast.
“Yeah.” I spat. A dark red stain spread on the dirt. “Bit my tongue. You good?” I glanced over my shoulder. Her T-shirt was torn down the side seam, but she didn’t look hurt. Still, I wanted to make sure.
“Yep.” She was panting. “But these bastards can fight.”
I had an idea. “Stay behind me. When they fold, kick them hard exactly where they land a blow on me.”
“What?” Her face was a mess of confusion.
“You’ll see.”
“But I—” She didn’t get a chance to finish; both demons were advancing on us.
Baptiste lashed out first, his purple eyes screaming hate. “You can’t protect her, Guardian!”
I didn’t block his kick but turned to take it side on. Something cracked. Fire exploded up my side as my knees threatened to buckle. He’s broken a fricking rib!
In the same moment, Baptiste bent over in pain.
“Now!” I yelled through gritted teeth.
Our minds in sync, Cora punished him with kick after kick to his injured side until he slumped panting against the BMW.
The next second Baptiste’s demon buddy leaped at me. Going against every learned instinct, I lowered my guard. He faltered, his attack morphing into a shove rather than a full-out assault. Pretty Boy knew full well hurting me would hurt him just as bad. His brief hesitation was a big mistake; I served him a cracking roundhouse to his chiseled face. The kick sent him staggering back against the BMW next to his soulless friend.
It should have knocked him out, but he shook his thick head and looked up with a rage-contorted face.
Shit.
There was enough violence in his expression to scare Hannibal Lecter. Right then it was clear: he didn’t care how much pain he felt—as long as I felt it first.
Beside me, Cora swore under her breath and widened her stance.
My own breaths came fast and shallow. I raised my guard—no way was the demon bastard getting a direct hit.
Then, just as his hate-filled breath hit my face, his whole body jerked back.
“Enough!” Baptiste had grabbed the demon by his shirt and reeled him back. “This is fruitless,” he hissed at him. “We need more of us to overpower a Guardian.”
Like a chained rabid dog, the other demon strained against Baptiste’s hold.
“We’re not finished, Guardian,” he growled but didn’t come at me again. Purple eyes never leaving Cora and me, the two Groth Maar slid into their BMW and sped out of the parking lot.
We watched the car’s rear lights dwindle in the darkness, then stood in stunned silence for the best part of a minute.
“It worked,” Cora said eventually.
“Yeah.” I couldn’t believe it. “It’s up to Leo now.”
Cora’s face glowed in the light coming off her phone as she read the text on the screen. “Leo’s on his way back. Says he tracked them to a place somewhere in Ku-ring-gai National Park.” She looked at me from the passenger seat. “I didn’t think there were any private properties up that way.”
“Some.” I pulled the key out of the Beetle’s ignition. “They don’t come cheap, though.” Rich demons. Sounded about right. Wasn’t the love of money the root of all evil?
I opened the car door and winced as I shifted to slide out. My ribs still stung where Baptiste had landed his titanium hoof. Although, now that I thought about it, the pain had dulled since Cora had asked me to drive the Beetle back home from the library a quarter of an hour ago.
I gave her a covert once-over as we trudged up to my front door. No obvious injuries. She wasn’t limping, but there was a line of dried blood along her right arm. I could only guess at the damage beneath the rip in her T-shirt, but thanks to the veranda light, I saw the shadowy beginnings of bruises pushing through her skin.
She caught me looking. “It’s nothing. I’ve had worse.” But her gaze slid away from mine too quickly for me to buy her dismissal.
“You’re the one we should be worried about.” She tugged up my T-shirt and frowned when she revealed the darkening skin across my rib cage. “Think something’s broken?” She reached out to touch my battered ribs.
Bracing for pain, I held my breath. Cora’s gentle palpating was uncomfortable, but not painful. I would have been jumping through the veranda roof if my ribs were broken. I put my hand where Cora’s fingers had been and felt around. Sore but nowhere near as painful as they should have been. How is that possible?
Puzzled, I met Cora’s eyes. “I swear one of my ribs cracked. It hurt like a fricking bastard, but now the pain’s almost gone.”
I startled when she grabbed my arm. “This is a Guardian thing.”
“What? Healing faster?”
“Yes. I remember reading about it in one of the journals.”
My jaw dropped. “And you didn’t think that was important enough to share?”
She had the decency to look apologetic. “Sorry. There was a lot to take in.”
I looked down at my bruised rib cage. “So how does this work? Any injury will now heal quicker?”
“No, only ones inflicted by the Groth Maar. It’s part of the Protection Charm. They feel all the pain they inflict on you and you heal at their supernatural rate.” She dropped her gaze back to my torso. “Which is pretty darn quick by the look of your rib cage.” She brushed her fingers over my bruised flank again, and I shivered.
I tugged down my T-shirt and pulled the house keys from my pocket. “Guess that’s one positive.” But it was only my positive; Cora wasn’t covered by the Protection Charm. Any damage done to her by Elymas’s demons would heal in the normal way: slowly, painfully.
If it healed at all.
Cold dread scraped along my nape at the thought. I reached out and wiped at the dried blood on her arm. “One positive you don’t have.”
Cora snatched the keys from my hand. “Will you stop worrying? I’ll be okay.”
I wasn’t so sure.
She shook her head as though she’d heard my uncertainty and went to slide the key into the lock. That was when the door swung wide open.
“Beth?” What was she doing here? “Aren’t you meant to be with Leo?”
Beth looked ready to kill. “You didn’t tell him to dump me here?”
I took a step back. “No.” I glanced over at Cora.
“Don’t look at me,” she said.
Beth thrust a hip out and crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, the idiot dumped me here. Told me he wouldn’t follow the Groth Maar with me in the car.” She breathed heavily through her nose. “Said it was too dangerous.”
Brave or stupid? I couldn’t decide which Leo was. He must have known Beth would pop a vessel when he left her behind, didn’t matter how sensible his decision had been. Beth stared at me like it was my fault.
“I swear, I didn’t have anything to do with that. I was too busy thrashing Elymas’s pretty boys.” Or more like being thrashed by them. I stepped past her into the house.
As the three of us headed for the living room, my gaze found its way to the ripped seam on Cora’s T-shirt. Four deep red-raw scratch wounds bled through the torn fabric, taunting me, reminding me just how close Baptiste had come to really hurting her. I knew the Groth Maar couldn’t kill her, not without the Sword of Absolom, but evidently they could inflict other damage. I pressed my lips together and waited for the sudden wave of dread washing over me to subside. A second glance at the gash on her arm and my mind was made up:
I can’t let her come with me. I can’t risk it.
She would pop several vessels when I told her I was going alone to find the Book of Threads, but I didn’t care—after tonight Cora wasn’t going anywhere near Elymas and his lackey demons again. Not if I could help it.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Cora
I’d only made it halfway down the hallway when Beth pulled aside my torn T-shirt. “Cora, you’re bleeding!”
“It’s nothing,” I assured her like I’d assured Jonas. I was lying; the blasted gashes burned. It took determined effort, but I refused to put my hand anywhere near the pain, because I also felt the burn of Jonas’s eyes on me. If I gave him any indication I was hurting, he’d use it as an excuse to act on that moronic overprotective streak of his. Exactly the kind of knee-jerk reaction I wanted to avoid.
I peered down at the rip in my shirt. The green cotton gaped, torn from underneath my armpit almost all the way to the hem. Dried blood had glued one section uncomfortably to the worst of the gashes. The T-shirt was a goner. Just as well it wasn’t the Turtles. That one was a favorite.
“You want to tend those now?” Jonas asked from behind me, concern lacing each of his words.
Yep, I did. But not right away. I couldn’t let him find out how much they bothered me.
Hiding my discomfort with a determined smile, I glanced at him over my shoulder. “It can wait,” I said as we walked into the living room. “I want to hear what Leo has to say first.”
Jonas didn’t comment, just pressed his lips together tightly, shouting his displeasure at my decision in his own silent way.
“But I could use some water,” I said. Suddenly my mouth was dusty. My earlier adrenalin spike had dissipated, leaving me hollow and dry. I turned back for the kitchen but didn’t make it far because Beth gently grabbed me by the hand.
“I’ll get it.” She steered me toward an armchair. “You sit.” She left, and I sank into the seat, careful not to graze my injured side. Next to me, Jonas slumped onto the couch. He didn’t so much as wince. Based on available evidence, his ribs must have been halfway to healed already.
This Protection Charm was out of this world, literally. What would it feel like to experience that kind of accelerated healing? Did all bone fractures heal at the same rate or would smaller bones fuse together faster? What about deep cuts and organ damage? My mind raced with questions I wouldn’t have dreamed of asking a week ago. Before, when demons were creatures safely tucked between the pages of horror and fantasy novels.