Page 9 of Breathe Like Hell

“Micah said you can go,” I informed Mason then wiped the tears still running down my cheeks. Whatever that means. Maybe Mason was going to hunt the demon now. “He’s almost here.”

“Okay.” He turned back and walked over to me, holding the side of my face. “You’re going to be okay, baby. I’ll see you at his house. Alright?”

I barely got a chance to nod before he was rushing out of my trailer, door slamming behind him. I saw headlights coming down the road, but I didn’t move from where I was curled up in a ball on my mattress, still trembling. Micah entered the front door a minute later, then came into my bedroom and scooped me up into his arms.

“Do you need to pack anything for tonight?” he asked.

“My medications.” I could probably go without everything else. Micah, like Mason, now had purchased things for me to keep at his house so I could shower and get ready for the day. And I didn’t really care about bringing my school backpack because I didn’t have the energy to care about my classes right now.

Micah opened the drawer on my nightstand and grabbed the medications, then carried me out of the house and put me in the passenger seat of his Audi—which I’d never been in before. It smelled good and expensive, like conditioned leather and something intrinsic to Micah. His forest scent. Dark and rich, shadowy.

He buckled my seatbelt for me then shut the door and went around to his side. I bent my knees up to my chest, my teeth chattering a bit. It was warm in the car—the seats were heated and Micah had warm air coming out of the vents—but my nervous system was still a wreck.

“What’s happening?” I asked, daring to peer over at Micah. He was on his phone, looking displeased.

After a few seconds, he shut it off and dropped the device in the cup holder, shifting the car into gear and pulling away from my trailer. His jaw was tense and his hand gripping the steering wheel tight enough to whiten his knuckles.

I turned away from him and stared out the window at the pine trees swaying, at the dark sky and smattering of stars scattered across it. Attempting to relax into the warm leather of the seat, I folded my legs to the side and leaned my elbow on the door, propping my chin on my palm.

We pulled out onto the main road and Micah began rapidly accelerating. My eyes nervously flicked over to watch his profile, then back to the road as our speed pushed me back against my seat.

Movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention and I stared wide-eyed out the windshield at the figure when it came into full view. Mason. He was moving significantly faster than I’d ever thought he was capable of, pushing off the ground, powerful wings sweeping out from his shoulders, extending at least ten feet on either side of him.

I gripped the center console as his huge wings flapped and pushed him forward, off the ground and away from us. The muscles in his back worked and flexed, the wind rippling through his black feathers.

He was beautiful. An angel.

I swallowed hard. I’m always going to be out of my depth with them.

They’re older than me, stronger than me, faster than me, and have angelic powers I barely understand the depth of. It’ll never be a fair fight.

“You’re not going to be staying at your place for a bit,” Micah said suddenly, making me jump. I stared over at him.

“What?”

“Until this is taken care of, I don’t want you out of my sight.”

“Until what is taken care of?”

Micah sighed. “Something Mason should’ve dealt with a long time ago. A demon.”

Hearing the word from Micah’s mouth made a chill drip down my spine and I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself despite the warmth in the car. Demon.

Maybe if Mason had ever let himself be vulnerable or honest with me, I would know more about his demon-hunting. But that wasn’t him, so I remained in the dark about everything. The most he’d ever done was let me see his wings, and that was only because I’d almost killed myself in front of him by jumping off a cliff. He wouldn’t let me die—not unless he was the one killing me.

It wasn’t a good memory. Most of my memories weren’t.

The hurt and disbelief lingered in my chest, slowly spreading rot through my aching heart. Why won’t you let me know you?

Even my first memory—the doe in my backyard—was darkened by fear.

“I saw the glowing eyes,” I said quietly. “I saw them in the forest earlier, and then right outside my window.” Looking in. Even the thought of how terrified I’d felt laying under my bed watching those golden orbs peering into my bedroom was enough to make me feel like crying again. The lack of pupils was unsettling.

“That’s why I need you to stay with me. He knows about you now, and that’s incredibly dangerous. I don’t like it. At all.” His fingers flexed on the wheel, and he took a steadying breath.

“Who?”

“Aamon.”