Mara doesn’t question anything as she shifts into a defensive stance. The frustration and anger seeping off of her is unlike anything I’ve seen before. I’ve pissed her off plenty, but this is something else.
The angels in the room are a mix of angels from the club and others I’ve never seen before, which is a positive. These are bottom-tier angels. They should be fairly easy to kill.
“Two versus eight, I like our odds,” the skinny angel in front taunts.
It’s the first time I see Mara really smile. Even if it’s more like a vicious dog ready to attack, it’s a real smile nonetheless.
“They fell right into our trap. Why didn’t you bring the other two?” the female angel asks in disbelief.
“Are you going to stop talking and try to kill us anytime soon?” Mara sasses in a bored tone.
The angel in the front tilts his head at her and squints. “Best to get it over with then,” he says. The group all distend their wings, and I roll my eyes. It’s the biggest show of little-angel-dick-energy I’ve ever seen in my endless existence.
Who sees a dude with white wings and thinksthat’s attractive? They should at least be black. If the wings were black, that would be badass.
“You ready?” I ask Mara, and she looks over at me, eyes still red, but her hands are steady.
She smirks and tosses her non-magical dagger right into the throat of the angel in front of us while placing herself in front of me. I’m not sure if it’s because she’s not paying attention or eager. But a deep-rooted part of me thinks it’s because she can’t die and is protecting me in her own way—that can’t be it.
The angel sputters and is ripping the blade from the center of his neck when Mara stabs him in the chest. Everyone in the room halts what they are doing for a moment to watch him crumple into nothing but a lifeless body.
“Yeah, this one means bye-bye for good,” Mara states smugly, waving her blade at them.
It’s then that the room dissolves into complete mayhem, white feathers floating around the room in a flurry. I have three angels on me, and Mara takes the rest. I try to not let my pride get in the way with her taking on more opponents than me, but there isn’t much I can do about it.
I have to focus on the angels in front of me, but I get glimpses of Mara in action. She’s magnificent.
One of the angels stabs me in the side, but I easily heal. Thank fuck, it wasn’t a weapon that holds power. I easily return the favor with a blade to their chest. Blood pours out of the form as the angel’s soul is destroyed.
It’s a mess of blood, limbs, and feathers. I take a few slices to my forearms and one to the face, but they are nothing other than scratches that my body heals for me. The last angel I’m against holds a copper blade, and immediately, I know I need to be more careful. I’m not sure what it’s capable of. But I know it can’t be anything good.
He’s the strongest of the three I’ve faced, and I just need to get that weapon out of his hand. As soon as that’s out of the mix, I’ll be able to take him down.
I’m not even given the chance to do so because Mara steps behind him, stabbing him clear through his stomach. The tip of the blade poking through his flesh towards me. He collapses to the ground.
I finally look over at the carnage she caused. She killed six angels in total. One of them is even completely missing their head, and I have no idea how she managed that. When I look back at her, she’s panting heavily; her chest rises and falls as she smears some blood on her face with the back of her palm.
“You feel better?” I ask, but she just stands there in front of me, catching her breath, eyes still red. She’s not the confident demon with an attitude I love to hate and hate to want.
“No,” she says, dropping her magical blade to the floor and pushing me against the wall with the edge of the other blade against my throat. “Did you know?” she asks, anger and sadness pouring out of her. She pushes the knife harder into my throat, and when I swallow, I can feel it knick my flesh.
“Did I know what?”
“What my mother was?” she snarls.
It all clicks for me then. Her being able to compel supernaturals. Why had she killed that siren at the bar? It even makes sense why I haven’t been able to pull myself away from her. Half siren and half of the most powerful demon in existence. A deadly combination.
“I didn’t know, not till right now.”
She pushes the blade against my throat harder and pushes against my chest. “I guess it all makes sense now, huh? Do you feel better knowing why you liked me and were able to stay away?”
“I wasn’t able to stay away, clearly,” I snark back at her.
She slaps me hard against my cheek. If I were mortal, it would likely have killed me. I’m not sure what overtakes me or why I love the way she’s crawled under my skin. But I slap her back, not as hard as she did to me, but hopefully enough to rattle some sense into her.
She lets out a frustrated yell and surprises me by crashing her lips to mine. The kiss isn’t romantic, soft, or even particularly enjoyable. It’s vicious and demanding, but I can’t help feeling like she’s begging me to give her some ounce of her confidence back.
Her knife is still at my throat, but I grab the back of her thighs, wrapping her legs around my waist, and spin before I forcefully shove her against the wall. It’s hard enough that the air leaves her lungs for a minute.
