Distantly, he heard shouts and gasps from onlookers. He saw Skye on the ground all the way back on the sidewalk where he’d thrown her. The humans in the car that hit him sprang from the vehicle and rushed toward him, and so did some of the onlookers from the sidewalk.
But that was all distant. Because there was a roaring in his ears and a throbbing at the base of his skull that obliterated almost everything.
A fucking human had driven a car into him. And now the idiot was hovering around, making excuses and apologies when Bel couldsmellthe alcohol on his breath.
Fucking humans were like filthy leeches, crawling around their precious planet, tainting everything they touched under the false illusion that they were the masters of the universe. They needed to be put in their place. Theyallneeded to be put in their place.
“I’m so sorry!” the human was saying.
“Oh my god, the car—”
“How is that even possible?”
“Are you okay?”
“I saw the car hit him—”
“What were you thinking! The light was red!”
“I didn’t see! I swear I thought it was green—”
The switch flipped. Bel snapped.
His vision became awash with red, and he knew his eyes had changed. And then he felt himself gaining height. With an ungodly roar, he turned and smashed both his fists down on the hood of the car.
The metal crumpled beneath his hands as if hit by two boulders dropped from a height. And then he grabbed the car underneath the folded bumper and threw it back several feet.
Instant, dead silence fell over the street.
He straightened, head hanging, hair in his face, fighting back the rage igniting his blood. He wanted to fucking kill everyone here gawking at him. He wanted to tear the heart out of that drunk driver’s chest and make him eat it.
“Holy shit …” someone breathed.
Bel turned and stared down the driver until he blanched whiter than a sheet and stumbled, falling to the ground andholding his hands up. The preternatural fury in Bel’s eyes told the human he was facing the kind of monster that was supposed to be imaginary.
Bel prowled toward him. The driver scuttled back. Tears collected in his eyes. “Don’t hurt me, man. Please, I swear—”
Bel looked up. Skye was standing in the crowd of people who had gathered. Her features were stark. Full of terror. Just like everyone else.
She looked into his flaming eyes and stumbled back just like the other human had. And then she turned and sprinted down the street like it was the fucking zombie apocalypse and she was the last person alive.
The sight of her fleeing was the metaphorical equivalent to a bucket of cold water to the face. The red haze faded. The street returned to his sight. The sounds bled back in. Slowly, he fought to get his breathing under control and felt himself return to normal height.
Humans without the Sight could see the catastrophe he’d caused because there was nothing supernatural about denting a car hood. As for the hellfire in his eyes and his height increase, they may not recognize exactly what they’d seen, but their fear instincts were very real. They knew they were in the presence of something dangerous that shouldn’t exist on Earth, and they were terrified.
Just like Skye.
He backed away from the stunned faces staring at him. If he didn’t get out of this crowd, he was going to snap again. And this time he might actually kill someone. Probably that fucking drunk driver still cowering on the ground.
Bel stepped onto the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. The people gathered there parted for him to pass, all staring at him like he was a green alien who’d just dropped out of the sky.
He strode down the block until he’d left the crowd behind.No one followed him. Crossing the street again, he stopped outside the door to Bootleg and weighed his options. There was no way he was going back up there.
Looking around, he saw no sign of Skye. He’d probably scared her so bad, she was sprinting all the way home. She probably wouldn’t come out for days. Eva was going to be pissed.
Screw the stupid feeling of elation he’d been chasing. Screw his stupid hopes of finding a pretty little girlfriend like his brothers. He wanted nothing to do with humans. He never wanted to make a woman look at him with that much fear again. It made him feel sick.
He’d come a long way from the evil, flaming bastard he’d once been. That fucker would have laughed with joy at the sight of mortals pissing themselves. Sunshine would say it was a good thing, but he wasn’t so sure anymore.
