I run my fingers over the worn pages of the ancient-looking book in my hands. The frayed edges scream of its importance. The spine quivers every time I turn a page, and I have to be extra careful not to accidentally ruin my mate’s precious work.
Angel’s strategy book is full of battle diagrams and tricks I never would’ve thought of. It’s a clear window into just how sharp he is. Makes sense why I’ve never seen him disorganized or careless, not even about the smallest things.
While the others train, I stay planted under a tree with Angel’s notes. No way I’m wasting my energy on drills I’ve mastered since I was four.
Some of the elders in the Kingdom of Death thought Papa was hard on me because I was going to be the first female Grim Reaper, but I knew better. He was trying to teach me to control my overbearing Divine beforeitcontrolledme.
I was taking down men three times my size before I turnedeight. I’ve more than earned the right to sit on my ass and snack in peace.
It takes less than twenty minutes for all of us to realize we’re just a bunch of fuckups who, for some insane reason, have weapons of mass destruction at our disposal.
You’d think we’d have some chemistry being Horsemen and all, but we’re too used to fighting solo. Watching us now, anyone would assume the Three Sisters were high when they made this decision.
The air starts to simmer, more from Harvey pouring his frustration into the air than the sun blaring down on us. Everyone is already tired and frustrated, and this idiot is turning that tension into a ticking time bomb.
Angel’s jaw is tight. He swallows hard, trying to choke down his irritation. Meanwhile, Seiji’s been whining nonstop about his whips misbehaving. I mean, what did he expect them to do? They are made to cause havoc.
Harvey is solely focused on breaking every training equipment in sight, which is driving Hazel insane since she spends a significant amount of time overseeing and maintaining these fields.
And Grace, my poor, sweet Honeybunch, is tired of being the only voice of reason in a circle of idiots.
At this point, it’s like a full-blown sitcom. I’m torn between stepping in to help and quickly running inside to grab popcorn.
When Harvey misses what could’ve been a winning strike, Hazel blows out a sharp tune that paralyzes him mid-move. She darts behind and kicks him square in the back. Harvey hits the ground with a loud thud, snapping the last thread of patience he was holding onto.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”
“Aww, don’t be mad. I’m sure it’s hard to move around with all those muscles.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Yeah? Bring it on, big guy.”
Before the two hotheads can pounce on each other, I shoot up and wedge myself between them. I’m just about to tell them to back off when another fight flares up behind me.
“Nevaeh, tell your mate to stop hitting my head. My brain cells are scattered all over the ground at this point.”
“That would be true if you had any brain cells,” Angel snaps.
Oh my.
“I will give you a stroke on purpose.” Seiji’s eyes narrow as he glares at Angel, and dark, thundering storm clouds form over his head. If this keeps up, someone’s going to get fried.
“You can’t even walk in a straight line on purpose.”
Damn. Angel’s got teeth today.
I shoot Harvey a pointed look and ask him to drop it. Harvey hesitates, guilt flickering across his face before groaning and tipping his head back. After a few long breaths, he reels in the anger and frustration he’d unleashed, not wanting to drown in it alone.
“It’s not like you’re any better,” Grace frowns, jabbing a finger at Angel. “You act like you’re immortal. You’re so distracted watching everyone’s backs, you forget your own. I’ve hit you nine times now, Anxo. You’d be hurt or worse if this were real.”
Before Grace even finishes, the tension drains out of the group. One by one, they turn to Harvey, who’s muttering to himself, and realize he was escalating their emotions. The dumbass is instantly bombarded with some not-so-polite words.
Harvey groans and drops to the ground, dragging his mate with him. “This isn’t working.”
I watch them abandon their weapons, plant their asses on the ground, and talk about quitting. If I’m the one thinking straight while everyone else acts like fussy toddlers, you know something’s off.
I sit cross-legged and gently set the book aside just as Angel shuffles closer and leans against me. He grabs his book, holding it to his chest, so I have to hug him from behind if Iwant to reach it.
