“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said, as they mounted the stairs, because denial went a long way when it came to keeping her marbles together. “I don’t know if I believe—”
The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Instinct kicked in, along with a burst of adrenaline, and she crouched. Her eyesight grew sharper as she took in the entire area . . . below, above, even the ceiling. Demons had a nasty habit of dropping from rafters and ceiling pipes.
Her hand went reflexively to where she’d normally keep her stang, and she cursed when she felt nothing but cool skin beneath the scrub top Eidolon had given her to replace her bloody one.
He eased up behind her, lowered his mouth to her ear. “What is it?”
“Something’s not right,” she whispered. She crept up another step to peer over the top of the next landing. “My door is open.”
Menace rolled off Eidolon in a wave that was almost palpable. He started up the stairs, but she threw out an arm to block him.
“I can handle this.” Heck, she needed this. She needed to beat the hell out of someone or something, if only to get rid of the numbness that gripped her.
Through the opening in the door, she caught a glimpse of movement. Humans. Guardians.
Two, from what she could see. Cole and Bleak . . . the two who had been involved in the werewolf battle that had killed Michelle and Trey. They were sitting on her couch eating McDonald’s.
Territorial rage spun up . . . humans, in her lair, uninvited . . . Closing her eyes, she tried to get it together. She was behaving as if she’d truly accepted her demon fate, that the Guardians were the enemy. These two hadn’t been the ones who’d sent her into a demon hospital with a bomb, and rushing in like a rabid hellhound wasn’t going to help anything. Besides, their version of what had happened the night Michelle and Trey died was different from Luc’s, and she wanted to believe them. Guardians were the good guys. Saviors of humanity. They did not betray each other. They didn’t lie. They didn’t try to kill their teammates.
But her internal alarm wouldn’t stop clanging.
“Don’t let them see you,” she said to Eidolon. “I don’t know why they’re here, but they’re more likely to talk if I’m alone.”
“Slayers?” he asked. At her nod, he inhaled sharply. “If they so much as touch you—”
“They won’t.” Before he could argue or she could analyze the possessiveness in his voice, she stepped inside.
Cole leaped to his feet. “Tayla. Jesus Christ, what are you doing here?”
“I live here.” She moved fully inside, her heart growing cold at the panic on their faces telling her these two had to have known about her being sent to the hospital as an exploding chump. How many other Guardians had been involved? A chosen few? The entire cell?
No. She refused to believe everyone had turned against her.
“We were told you were dead.”
“Obviously, I’m not.”
Cole and Bleak exchanged glances, and yeah, apparently the fact that she was breathing wasn’t great news. “That’s awesome,” Bleak said.
“So if you thought I was dead, why are you here?”
“To clean out your apartment.” Cole shrugged into his jacket, and she didn’t miss how he’d loosened the snap closure on his stang holster. “Let’s take you back to HQ.”
Bleak moved behind her. “Yeah. Everyone’ll be stoked to see you.”
The unmistakable whisper of a blade slicing the air broke the oh-so-fake happy reunion. She struck hard and fast, knocked Bleak’s dagger out of his hand. Cole’s roundhouse kick to the hip spun her into the wall, and then Eidolon was there, tearing Bleak away and leaving her to concentrate on Cole.
Bleak’s scream pierced her eardrum as she nailed Cole in the face with her fist. “Don’t kill him,” she shouted.
“Fuck that,” Eidolon snarled.
“No!”
The dull thud of flesh striking flesh told her he wasn’t listening.
Cole swung, an uppercut she blocked, and she could no longer pay attention to what Hellboy was doing. Cole was hammering her with blows, and it was time to return fire. Spinning low, she swept her legs in an arc and knocked him on his ass. She leaped on him, straddling his waist as she slammed her fist into his cheek. His legs swung up, catching her around the throat, and suddenly she was struggling to stay on top. They were closely matched in skill, having trained together for nearly the same amount of time, but with the loss of her strength and her injury, what should have been an easy take-down now became a fight for her life.
Gasping, she reached for a candle jar that had fallen from the coffee table during the struggle. Her fingers closed on the rim. His fist drove into her belly.
Pain slashed at her, but she ground her teeth and brought the candle down on his temple. Cole groaned and went boneless.
Holding back her own groan, she rolled off him. Eidolon’s low snarl vibrated the room. He lunged away from Bleak, landing on top of Cole, one knee in the Guardian’s gut, one hand wrapped around his throat.