The front door opened, and Xavier walked out. “What’s going on?”
That seems to be the question everyone is asking.
Jake sucker punched him when he walked outside. Xavier hit the cement floor of the porch hard. He didn’t get up.
“Wuss,” Chay said with a chuckle. I shot him a dirty look.
“So are we fighting now or what? It’s too cold to stand around and do nothing,” Drew complained.
“Sure, why not.” Jake ran toward me and grabbed my arm, jerking me away from Chay.
Chay lunged at Jake. Rod grabbed Chay and jammed his knee in his gut. He landed another good punch to the face. I saw everyone in their own fights. Muriel and Jen were against Shayla and Lily. Steven and Rod were pitted against Chay and Drew.
That left Jake and me. I don’t know what I ever did to Jake, but he seemed to have it out for me. He always made a special effort to make sure it was us against each other—and he had no qualms about hitting girls. Of course, I didn’t have a problem hitting him either.
He threw a kick, but my freaky angel powers kicked in—of which I was entirely grateful—and his movements were in slow motion. I saw what he planned to do before he did it and blocked his kick, taking a hard hit on my forearm. He moved to jab my side. I saw it coming. The majority of the impact I absorbed with a block, but he got a good hit in. The pain rushed in as my breath whooshed out of my body. While I was still reeling from the jab to the side, he backhanded me hard across the face.
I had the ability to feel what others were thinking. I knew what Jake planned before he did it, and I was able to block most of his hits. But I was still learning how to use my powers. They were strong, but still new to me. That was why I didn’t see what was coming next.
I hit him under the chin with a palm-heel strike, feeling his teeth clamp together. He grabbed a handful of my hair and kicked me in the side. I crumpled to my knees.
“That’s what I like to see… you on your knees in front of me.”
He jerked me up by my hair. I bit my lip, trying not to cry out in pain. He got off on that. He loved causing pain, but he loved hearing the cries of those he hurt more.
I tried to jab him in the face, but he grabbed me with his free hand and twisted me around. My back to his chest, he wrapped his arm around my neck, holding me in a chokehold. I clawed at his arm, trying to stomp on his insole, but he lifted me off the ground. He balled one fist in my hair and pressed my head harder against the arm around my neck.
My lungs burned from lack of oxygen; my throat screamed in pain where he squeezed it closed. Stars blinked in front of my eyes, and I knew I was just seconds away from losing consciousness. My feet flailed wildly, trying to hit him. Grabbing at his face and arms, I clawed at him, digging my fingernails into his flesh to cause as much pain as possible. I could feel his skin rip when I dug into his arm. I felt the mushy, bloody mass collecting under my nails. It didn’t faze him. He laughed as the fight left my body and my movements became sluggish, weak.
I was dying.
Something hit the side of me hard. Jake grunted and dropped me. Landing on all fours, I gasped for air. I crawled to the porch, coughing as I sucked in as much air as my body would hold. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw Xavier and Chay. Xavier held Jake from the back while Chay punched him in the face… once… twice… three times. Blood and spit flew from Jake’s mouth. Chay’s face was red, the muscles corded in his neck and arms. His body shook with rage as he hit Jake over and over.
“Chay!” My voice was gravelly. It cracked when I called out to him. “Chay, stop.”
Sirens sounded in the distance. The Evils pulled themselves together and took off down the road. Jake, his face bloodied and already swelling, looked at me and spit a wad of mucus and blood.
“It’s coming. Your time is coming, Milayna,” Jake slurred before slinking into the shadows.
Chay rushed to me. Sliding his arm under the back of my knees and the other around my back, he lifted me off the ground. “Are you okay?” He carried me in the house and laid me on the couch in the family room. “Can you talk?”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
“Doesn’t sound like it to me.” Drew walked over and looked down at me. He held a wet washcloth to his eye to staunch the blood flow from a cut.
“Chay…”
“What, Milayna?” He knelt next to me and put his ear close to my mouth so he could hear me.
“You’re bleeding all over me.”
He laughed. “I think you’re gonna be fine.”
I shook my head. I was beginning to think it would never be over—I wasn’t going to be fine. Azazel should have been out of my life for good after I turned eighteen. But he was back and we were fighting senseless fights, beating each other until none of us could see straight.
What’s the point?