“Finish it!” my mother added, encouraging me.
He dropped his sword, and as the demon went down, Sera sent me a bunch of mental images, flashes through my mind of things she wanted me to do. I didn’t have the luxury of stopping to think about them, or questioning them. I also didn’t want him to have the time to forfeit and live. I threw myself over him, grabbing the knife, the hilt cool to the touch for me. Pulling it out of his eye with a nasty sucking sound, I went to slam it into his throat.
“I forfeit!” he screamed.
Screw that. I brought my arm down hard, but an unseen power wrapped around my wrist, suspending it an inch from his throat. My eyes flicked up to the Abrus demon. He had one of his hands in the air, playing me like a puppet. He raised his arm and suddenly my body was lifting off the Grimlock demon. Then his power left me, and my feet slammed to the ground, pain shooting up my thigh.
“You’ve won,” he reminded in a smooth voice. “Run along. Don’t worry, we’ll be seeing each other again very shortly.” His eyes rested on Sera. “Nice seraph blade.”
I swallowed hard, and then glanced at Shea in shock.
Her forehead was free of the crescent moon tattoo.
Her contract in ashes on the ground.
Holy shit.
I looked at my mom as she rushed over, head bent low, submissive. Handing me the Michael sword, she pulled me in for a hug. “I’m very proud of you. Call me later, but don’t ever come back here again.”
Her words shocked the absolute shit out of me. Tears swam in my vision, making it blurry. “Mom, what about you and Mikey?”
I was starting to feel dizzy. How much blood have I lost?
“We’ll be fine. Go,” she said more firmly, then turned her back on me, to walk back inside the clinic.
What will happen to her? Why is her mark still there if I killed our boss? I had a hundred questions, but a wave of dizziness took me again. When I looked down, I saw I was standing in a puddle of my blood.
Shit.
Everything was starting to blur at the edges. Shea hooked a hand under my armpit, hauling me into the back of the SUV and pushing me lightly so my body interlocked with Lincoln’s. Two bloody, half-dead people spooning in the back of my SUV.
“Get us… to the… academy,” Lincoln told her weakly. She slammed the back door and ran to the driver side.
My back was against Lincoln’s chest, his warm breath coming out in short rasps against my neck. “You’re… the craziest… girl… I’ve ever… met.” He reached out to me with a glowing orange hand. With a jolt, the car peeled out, and I remembered Shea didn’t have a license.
Too weak to care, I just stared at the glowing orange hand as he laid it on my bleeding thigh. He was trying to heal me. He was bleeding to death, weak as shit, and still trying to heal me.
“You’re the hottest guy I’ve ever met,” I said stupidly. The blood loss had obviously made me loopy, let my inhibitions down.
A low laugh erupted out of me, and then a black wall slammed into me as I lost consciousness.
Chapter Ten
My consciousness returned in bouts.
I remembered Noah standing over me screaming, then there was a bright golden light, and Raphael appeared. I remembered Lincoln’s terrified face hovering over me, and Shea crying.
It all came in snippets, like a dream.
Now, I could feel bedsheets underneath me, my rib cage, thigh, and tailbone were throbbing. I tried to speak, but only croaked. Opening my eyes, I winced against the bright light.
Shea’s face swam into view. “You crazy bitch! Don’t ever do that again,” she scolded, sticking a finger in my face for good measure.
I tried to smile, but my face hurt. “I can promise you that.” Shakily lifting a hand, my thumb brushed across her clear forehead.
She burst into tears then, and threw her arms around me. “Thank you!” she sobbed in my ear. “Mi familia.”
“You’re welcome, mi vida loca.” I didn’t really know Spanish, but I threw out what I did randomly because it always made her laugh.
I was rewarded with that laugh now.
Peering around for the first time, I noticed I was in some type of medical room, with only a chair next to my bed. The door was propped open, leading out to a tiled hallway.
“You’re in the healing clinic at Fallen Academy,” she told me.
I nodded. “Am I expelled? In deep shit?”
We were free souls, but without jobs we wouldn’t be able to live in Angel City, and now we were banned from Demon City. We were basically homeless if they wouldn’t take us.
She shrugged. “I don’t think so. I mean, there was a lot of yelling, but I heard the words ‘brave idiot’ tossed around a lot. Seems like the old dude likes you.”
I smiled. Raphael.
“Is Lincoln okay?” I asked, eyeing the open door.
That time it was her turn to smile. “You mean the hottie who fought for your freedom? Yeah, his injuries were pretty minor. Being in Demon City was just zapping his energy, or whatever. Once we got over the border he perked right up. Moderate blood loss and some stitches, I heard them say.”
I sighed in relief. “Is he pissed at me?”
She grinned again. “So pissed. Unnaturally pissed. He punched the wall.” She pointed to a hole in the plaster. I grimaced. Her hand rested on my shoulder. “You almost died, Bri. You can’t go fighting demons, like you’re some badass.”
I’d nearly killed a demon, so I was arguably a badass, but I wasn’t going to say a word. Shea would go all Puerto Rican on me, start cussing in Spanish, and wave her angry hands in my face. So I just nodded, glancing at the pile of my clothes on the chair, and noticed for the first time that I was wearing a thin white cotton gown, and nothing else.
“Where’s Sera?” I asked, eyeing the gown.
Shea frowned. “Who?”
“My dagger.”
Dawning shone on her face. “Ah yes. In the middle of his rant, Lincoln ripped it off you, and said you weren’t allowed to have it outside of weapons and battle training.”
That motherfu—
“Brielle. You’re awake,” Raphael’s voice came from the open doorway.
I sat up, nervously clutching the sheet around my body. Raphael was with Mr. Claymore, both looking at Shea.
“Come in,” I told them. Please don’t kick us out.
“What you did was very dangerous,” Raphael chastised me.
I frowned. “I know, but—”
“But also admirable. I’m very taken with the story. To save your sister from a lifetime of slavery like that. It’s touching.”
Shea raised one eyebrow at me.
“Sister?” I asked. I mean, yeah, I considered her my sister, but….
“Lincoln said you two were family,” Raphael stated, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Shea’s hair and skin were about ten shades darker than mine.
Lincoln told them that? Hmm. Maybe they would only let her stay if she was related to me.
I grasped Shea’s hand. “We are, and if you kick me out, we’ll have nowhere to live. But… no pressure.”
Both gentlemen laughed, and exchanged smiles. For a man in his early forties, Mr. Claymore was quite handsome, his short brown hair weaved through with silver streaks over kind eyes.
“We’re not kicking you out,” Raphael reassured. “I brought Mr. Claymore, to see if it was possible to erase Shea’s death mark. Assuming that’s what she wants. That way she could become a student here. Room and board is included, of course.”
I wanted to act tough but I couldn’t, tears leaked from my eyes.
Shea shot out of her chair. “Yes! That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I took the mark against my will. They pinned me down, and—” Her voice broke before she could continue.
Mr. Claymore frowned, stepping forward. “If that’s true, if you took the mark against your will, then I can easily remove it. It’ll take a day or two for me to brew the potion, but it’ll fall away as if it were never there.”
Shea’s chest was rising and falling, clearly trying to hold her shit in.