Prologue
Katrina
I just had the most knee-melting orgasm of my life, in the small gym at Lakewood Prep, with my classmates dancing to Halloween-themed music just beyond the wall to my left in the large, decorated gym. While their innocent winter dance party goes on, my demons and I are having a party of our own. One that’s not so innocent.
Akor has crawled out from beneath my pale white skirt and is currently fixing his pink and blond hair, which has become very disheveled after my thighs gripped his face and I took the ride of my life.
Six Flags could take a few tips from Akor. I’ve never experienced anything as magical as his mouth. It deserves its own theme park.
Women everywhere would flock to an Akor ride.
But just the thought of any other woman riding him sends a possessive flame burning through my chest.
I take it back. Six Flags is doing great with their thrills. I’m gonna keep the Akor secret to myself. And if you tell, I’ll have my sweet, crazy demon hunt you down and zombie-dog you.
Kastros just stepped forward a second ago and pulled me into his arms. I’m currently melting into him like I’m the cheese and he’s the bread, and together, we’re an ooey-gooey sandwich of perfection. The huge, hulking, silent demon is currently posing as my decathlon teacher. My heart is floating. My cheek is against his sculpted pec, and life has never been more dreamily wonderful than this moment.
I keep my cheek connected to that rock-hard muscle but slide my face upwards until the back of my head nearly touches my shoulders, so that I can stare up at the wide, blue horns on his head, horns that resemble dinosaur spikes. I’m tempted to touch them. Or his black leathery wings. Tonight’s themed dance gave him the perfect excuse to come as he actually is, in his true form. And other than a pair of black pants and shoes, I’m staring at him in all of his glory, which is a lot, considering he’s built like Adonis, the guy hot enough to win Aphrodite’s heart.
My nerdy heart likes comparisons like that.
I pull away, and my baby blues meet his deep brown eyes. I silently will him to dip down and kiss me, when the door to the small gym bursts open.
“Fuck!” Raz exclaims.
I jump away from Kastros, though he doesn’t drop my hand. My demons don’t give two fucks about propriety or student-teacher relationships.
“I’m eighteen!” I shout to whatever teacher has come through the door as I spin around wide-eyed.
Akor chuckles, but he’s the only one. Because all the rest of my demons have taken up aggressive poses around me, their arms outstretched, feet planted wide.
“Dammit.” Van runs a hand through his auburn hair, and his jaw clenches in a way that I’ve never seen before. My lust demon usually remains unruffled by everything.
My gaze flies to the doorway, where a towering figure stands, backlit by the bright lights of the foyer and gym. Huge, white, feathered wings extend from his back and stretch behind him, the wings wider than the door itself. The muscled man wears a creepy, glow-in-the-dark skeleton mask that’s tinged green, half-glowing. The creep also carries a scythe. Dressed in a sleeveless black robe, I can only assume this asshole is dressed up as a reaper for our themed winter dance. But some instinctual part of me knows that this isn’t just some high school teacher bursting in on us.
My heart snaps like a mousetrap, so tight and sharp, it feels like my insides have been cleaved in two.
Motherfuck a truck in the muck—this is an angel.
A real-life angel.
And that scythe he’s holding doesn’t look like some Halloween store plastic toy.
“Holy shit, we’re in trouble,” I whimper.
Fear ferments in my stomach like bad beer—I just studied about monks brewing it in the sixteen-hundreds.
The asshole takes a step into the room and spins the scythe on his hand like he’s on the color guard team twirling a fucking flag. He knows how to use that thing, and I’m pretty sure he can make heads roll. Literally.
Crapola. That is not a good mental image for my queasy stomach. I grow light-headed, and more decathlon facts stack up in my head like blocks. The printing process in which ink is forced into recessed lines is called intaglio. Stars are huge glowing spheres of plasma… Not. Fucking. Helpful. Brain. You need an escape plan. This is escape planning time.
But I can feel my brain starting to shut down in panic, in an attempt to protect me, going blank and white, like it used to in the months after my car accident. There were days where I’d miss chunks—just have zero recollection of entire afternoons—and I can feel my mind teetering on that abyss again.
No!
I can’t black out. I have to get away. I have to save the guys. The fingernails of my free hand dig desperately into my palm, attempting to zap my brain back to functional status with pain. It works. Barely. I’m still operating in a semi-daze.
I hardly have time to gasp and glance toward the emergency exit door before Kastros unfurls his dark wings and wraps them around me, shielding me from view and encasing me in shadow. His leathery wings are soft and cool as they slide along the exposed skin at my back. They soothe away my panic and allow me to think clearly, which just allows me a second to get upset.
Because shielding me isn’t a solution. I’m the problem. As their Center, I’m the demons’ Achilles’ heel. I’m a weak point for them, since they can only be mortally wounded when I’m around, which means that damned scythe can’t just hurt me. It can do worse. It can hurt them.
That thought punches my heart so hard that it skips a beat. When it staggers back up, I shove at Kastros’s wings.
“Get me out of here!” I whisper frantically at my silent demon.
I hear Raz snark with confidence, “Don’t worry, princess. We’ve got you. This stupid little bleached-blond pigeon won’t touch you.”
I hear a stranger’s low, dark chuckle.
Van’s voice comes from nearby. He pitches his tone low, the warning hushed. “Katty, if we leave, the rest of his flock will be waiting. Right now, it’s one versus five.”
Shivers start to rack my body. Dammit. We’re trapped. I can’t watch one of them get hurt! I can’t!
That asshole has a scythe! A fucking knife the size of the crescent moon that’s shining through the gym windows! It is flipping huge! And my guys have nothing!
My eyes dart side to side, and my breath comes in short gasps. When I hear the rip of fabric and the thwap of four other sets of wings unfurling around us, I start to shiver.
They’re going to fight. I can feel it in my bones, the same way I could feel that this stranger was a real angel.
I can’t even watch the gory scenes in horror movies.
My eyes squeeze shut for a second, and I send a quick thought towards my baby brother, Adam, who is currently harassing some babysitter with wooden trains and Paw Patrol figurines so I can attend this dance. I hope he’s okay. My teeth scrape over my bottom lip, and I stop short of praying, because I’m pretty sure I’m not on God’s good side anymore.
Fuck me. Does the devil help?
Could I try to summon Lucillania and make a deal with the devil? That might backfire… Okay, no help then.
When I crack my eyes open, I harden my resolve. I have to get out of here. It’s the only way for the guys to be safe. Even if more angels are lying in wait…