Текст книги "Sweet Temptation"
Автор книги: Wendy Higgins
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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 25 страниц)
I should let her go, but I’m shaken.
“Wait,” I shout.
She doesn’t stop. My pulse rockets into overtime. I push past people and run forward, wrapping my hand around her tiny wrist and spinning her to face me.
Fuck! How can she turn away like that? I yank her closer, fully aware I’m acting like an absolute psycho, but I’m too weak to do what needs to be done. She is mine. Doesn’t she know that? Because my body and soul are screaming it—demanding me to make her mine in every way.
Her eyes stare up at me with a mix of fear and hope, reminding me what an arsewipe I am to keep doing this to her. Once again, I’ve royally screwed everything up. I need to let her go, but instead I find myself touching her face with a stupid paw, cursing the costume for getting in the way of feeling her soft skin, cursing her green paint for hiding her face from me.
With a furry thumb I wipe the paint from above her lip and she yanks back.
“What are you doing?”
“I . . .” There it is. The perfectly round brown dot, at once innocent and sexy. “I wanted to see your freckle.”
The inside of my costume is a sauna at this point. I want more than anything to kiss her. One last taste.
Don’t do it, you evil bastard. Don’t make it harder on her. Just push her away.
“What do you want from me, Kai?” she whispers.
Isn’t it obvious? I want everything. Why can’t I control these feelings? And why should I have to? It all fills me with a raging fury of injustice. I grip her tighter.
“For starters?” I growl. “I want to introduce myself to every freckle on your body.”
I feel her tremble in my hands, sending my body to its boiling point in the ape suit.
“So, just something physical, then? That’s all you want?”
I hate myself for my inability to let her go. If I can’t push her away, maybe I can force her to push me.
“Tell me you hate me.” It would be so much easier if she did.
“But I don’t hate you. I couldn’t.”
Her breath smells like bubble gum. Everything about her is too sweet for me.
“You could,” I assure her, pulling her tighter. “And you should.”
She’s fighting tears when she says, “I’m letting you go, but only because I have to. I need to move on with my life, but I’ll never hate you.”
Yes. Let me go. Move on. Then maybe I can do the same.
I force myself to open my hands and let her go. She stumbles back, shooting me one last heartbreaking, wide-eyed stare. And then just like at the airport, she turns from me and walks abruptly away, her matted blond hair falling against her shoulders. And just like before, she doesn’t turn back.
I roughly yank the gorilla head over my face. It smells as sour as I feel.
Damn the Maker and the Deceiver. Damn them all.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Anna’s Test
“I really miss your hair in my face
And the way your innocence tastes.”
—“Better Than Me” by Hinder
We’ve been good. We’ve stayed away from each other since Halloween—two months exactly. But still, we are not safe. Always, threats lurk, and this one snuck up.
All the fear I’ve known since meeting Anna seven months ago has led to this night. She is under suspicion. I could have helped her avoid this fate. I could have put aside my own selfishness and properly trained her during our road trip. But I didn’t. Instead, I’ve played games, pushing her away and reeling her back in for the past seven months. And now she’s forced to go against her personal morals to save her life.
Honestly, I don’t know if she can pull it off. The other Neph and I have given her as much information and advice as we possibly can. We’ll be at her side tonight, each of us working, but she has to do her part on her own. I’m more nervous for her than I’ve ever been for myself.
“You all right there, babe?” Marna asks, leaning up from the backseat. My knuckles are white, and I force myself to loosen my grip on the wheel.
“Yeah,” I say. “Fine.”
Blake claps my shoulder from the passenger seat. “We got this, brah.”
“Just don’t do anything stupid,” Ginger mutters at me from the back, where she’s applying another coat of eye shadow. “Like that bloody awful haircut.”
I ignore her, running my hand over the buzz cut I gave myself while wasted on eggnog.
“I like it,” Marna says. “It’s cute. He looks a bit like a criminal.”
Blake turns in his seat. “Criminals are cute? Dude, whatev. Girls are weird.” At this, Marna giggles.
I catch Kopano’s eye in the rearview mirror. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time, hanging with the lot of us here in Atlanta for holiday break when Father and the other U.S. Dukes met at my house and called us all together, suggesting we work together as a group this New Year’s Eve for maximum damage to the humans. We didn’t know at the time Anna was under suspicion. Thankfully Belial tipped her off. She’ll most likely be tailed by whisperers all night, who will report back to the Dukes about whether or not she’s a suitable worker. Her life depends upon being a bad girl tonight.
Kope will be working for the first time since he was fifteen, and I know he’s doing it for our sakes. For Anna’s sake. I’m grateful.
We park at the hotel and I chug from my flask before I get out. I straighten my tie as we walk, and feel the heavy slap of my wallet’s chain against my thigh. I try to concentrate on these small details so as not to freak the hell out. Thankfully no whisperers are in sight. Yet.
It takes me half a second to find Anna when we walk into the darkened ballroom. She’s dancing with that Veronica chick, in true Anna fashion, as if this were an ordinary party and not a test in which her life is the prize.
My worries are momentarily sidetracked as I watch the way her body moves with fluid grace—the way her arse shakes in perfect time to the beat. I reach down to adjust myself through my trousers, and Ginger huffs next to me, mumbling, “Oh, gawd.”
Whatever.
Anna is smiling and fanning herself when the song ends. And then she sees me and stops. I want to go to her and remind her of everything we told her about dealing with the whisperers. I want to shield her and protect her and take this burden from her, but she’s got to do this on her own. I cannot be a distraction, so I will make myself scarce; however, I’ll be listening and watching when I can.
It doesn’t take long for the whisperers to show—two of them—and they stalk her like the creepers they are. I want to tell them to back off and give her room to breathe. She’s completely rigid when they first take to her, but to my surprise she heads straight for the bar and shakes off the stiffness with determination.
Knowing she’s okay for now, I find a brunette in an emerald dress to talk to in a corner where I can see Anna from across the room. I manage to keep up a conversation, answering, nodding, even making the girl laugh, but she’s only got a small portion of my attention.
I’m more than a little proud of the way Anna handles herself at the bar, but I’m worried her friend Veronica is going to be an issue. I think she’s together with Jay, and . . . oh, fantastic. Marna has him in her sights. What is she thinking? She should not be working on Anna’s friend and causing unnecessary drama for her to deal with when she’s trying to bloody concentrate! The moment Marna breaks away, I excuse myself and head over to her.
I catch Marna near the poker tables. “What are you doing? Not Jay, okay? Leave him be so Anna can focus.”
Her eyes are sad and she whispers, “Sorry.” Ah, shite. I think her play for Jay was less about work and more about her possibly fancying him.
Ginger marches up, frowning at me. “She’s got nothing to be sorry for. She’s working the way you should be. Come on, Marn.”
She takes her sister by the elbow, and Marna casts an apologetic glance over her shoulder at me before they walk through the room, making eyes at all the guys who’re coupled up. I shake my head and catch sight of Kope at a poker table. The blokes he’s with are all edgy, their auras stirring with gray. We give each other a nod.
I grab two wines from the bar and head back to the girl in the emerald dress. I don’t care for wine, but she’s a chardonnay type, so I suck it up. Anna finally finishes with the Veronica/Jay drama and is making her way to the bar again. She’s only got one whisperer flanking her now. I duck behind someone when Anna’s eyes move in my direction.
Loud chaos ensues and suddenly people jump up, running to see. I stretch my hearing and nod to myself when I realize what’s happening.
“What’s going on over there?” asks the girl I’m with.
“Fight at the poker table,” I say. She stands and shifts side to side, trying to catch a glimpse.
The room’s energy zings and auras are fading as more alcohol is consumed, along with other drugs. The music gets louder. The brunette finishes her drink and eyes mine.
I push it toward her with a grin and she smiles up at me, running her pearl necklace back and forth between her fingers. The last thing I want to do is talk to a girl right now. I can scarcely concentrate, but with whisperers about, I can’t afford to stand here and watch Anna all night.
When I glance toward the bar again, I can’t quite believe what I see. Anna is quite the little entertainer, working the bar crowd and throwing back shot after shot. I hope she still knows her limits.
“You seem distracted,” says the brunette as she sips my chardonnay.
“Sorry, luv,” I say. “I’m here with my cousin and she’s quite the lush. Just trying to keep an eye on her.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet.” She gets off her stool and moves closer to where I sit, fitting my knee between her legs. My arm goes around her back automatically, and I fight to keep my eye on her instead of turning to the bar again. Especially as people whoop and cheer.
“I had to break up with my boyfriend last week, because he cheated on me. Now I just want to have fun.”
“That right?” I ask. Declarations like that used to make me rejoice. Her hand rubs my shoulder, and she angles slightly sideways. She’s way tipsy.
Hollers blast from the bar area, and the brunette peers over my shoulder. “Uh-oh. Is one of those your cousin?”
I turn. Anna, Marna, and two other sauced girls have climbed onto the bar and are dancing. The whisperer is going crazy, dancing its own nasty jig all over the patrons. The bartenders stand almost directly under them, staring up their dresses, pretending to be there to catch them, no doubt. The wankers.
“Yeah,” I say absently. “The, uh, brown-haired one on the end.” Marna.
“Aw, they’re just having fun,” says the girl. “Don’t worry about her. She’s fine.” The girl begins to nuzzle my neck, and two other immaculately coiffed girls approach.
“Tasha, we’re going up to do a line. Wanna come?” They look me up and down approvingly. “He can come, too.”
Tasha, the brunette in emerald, looks at me. “Come with?”
“I can’t.” I nod toward Marna, thankful to have an excuse.
She shakes her head at her friends. “I’m staying with Kaidan.”
They give her knowing smiles and leave us. Damn. I was hoping she’d go, too. She slinks over to face me.
“You know,” she says, “we could go to my room. Your cousin’s a big girl. She’ll be okay.”
“Er . . .” I look over. Bloody hell, Anna is so sexy in that little dress, completely letting loose.
I feel someone staring at me and catch Ginger at a table with a guy. She’s frowning at me and throws her thumb over her shoulder, telling me to take the girl to her room. I narrow my eyes to tell her to shut up.
The brunette runs a finger along my jaw, leaning forward as if to kiss me, and I have a moment of paranoia that Anna will see. The whisperer is in sight, and more could show at any moment, so I can’t very well ignore Tasha’s advances, but there’s no way I’m going far from Anna.
“Come on.” I take the girl by the hand and lead her from the ballroom, going the long way around to avoid the bar, where the girls are being helped down. I’m just going to snog her to pass the time and make it seem as if I’m working toward more. No offense to Tasha, but I’m ditching her the first moment I know Anna’s safe and we can go.
My emerald-wearing brunette turns out to be drunker and randier than I thought. The moment we’re out of the ballroom she flings her arms heavily over my shoulders and goes up on her toes to smash her mouth against mine. People walking past us in the hall snigger and one guy yells, “Get a room!” I flick him off behind Tasha’s back, and the group laughs.
I can’t unhook her from around my neck, so we sort of swerve and stumble our way to the empty supply hall near the bathrooms. I shove my hearing back into the ballroom while experiencing the wettest kiss of my life. Before I can find Anna’s voice in the mass, I feel a prickle on my neck and the space around us darkens.
A hair-raising cackle sounds in my mind, cutting off my extended hearing, and I nearly flinch. A whisperer is on us.
“Oh, God, yes,” says Tasha as the demon whispers in her ear, shoving away her guardian angel, who fights against it.
Time to work.
I kiss her back now for real, taking control of the show and putting that sloppy mess to rest as I push her back against the wall. She moans and lets her head fall back into my hand. She grabs my lower back and pulls my hips flush against hers. After a minute I think the whisperer leaves, but I can’t stop to look.
Tasha hikes her leg, and I grab it, feeling the dress rise. Her hands are pulling out my shirt and finding their way to my bare back, where her nails dig in. My hand slides higher until it’s under her dress and she’s going wild.
My body works, but my mind is not in this hall. I go still at the sounds of familiar voices nearby. My head jerks around. No whisperers in sight, but I see the back of Ginger.
“What’s wrong?” slurs Tasha.
“I think I hear my cousin,” I whisper, still not moving.
She groans with disappointment.
Their voices are clear.
“Stop. That’s not fair,” says Anna.
“Fair,” snorts Gin. “You’re no better than the rest of us.”
“I never thought I was.”
My heart goes still. Of course Ginger would be a complete cow to Anna. I drop the girl’s leg.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, tucking in my shirt. “I’ve got to take care of something.” Oh no, I think Anna’s running to the loo to be sick. Tasha tips to the side and I right her. “Perhaps we should ring your mates, yeah?”
“Wait . . . you’re leaving?”
“I have to go.” I don’t feel too bad leaving her, since she’s staying in the hotel. I’m sure she’ll find her way. But just in case I pull her mobile from her small purse and put it directly in her hand. “Call your friends.”
She nods. Then hollers at my back, “Wait, what’s your number? We can hang out later!” But I don’t turn back.
In the hall I shove past Ginger and she shouts, “Hey! You can’t go in there.”
I turn on her. “Stop trying to police the lot of us!”
She glowers. “What the hell’s gotten into you, Kai?”
If she only knew.
I turn away and march straight into the ladies’ loo. “Anna?” I see her feet in a stall at the end. My heart is pounding and filled with worry at how she’s feeling after a night of whisperers on her back. “Ann?”
“I’m fine, Kai,” she says, but she doesn’t sound it. I need to see her. Help her.
I go to her stall and touch the handle. “You’re sick. Let me in.”
“No. I’m fine now.”
“Shall I send Marna, then?”
“No. I just want to be alone. Go away in case the spirits come back.”
I feel a burst of pride, followed by sadness, to hear the caution in her voice. She will forever be aware and more careful now. I didn’t want her to have to learn this way, but it is what it is. I’m certain she’s feeling shame and regret, but in my mind she did nothing wrong. It’s the life of a Neph. It’s all muddled and gray for us. Whether we enjoy it or not is neither here nor there.
“You did . . . well tonight.”
“Go,” she says. I think she might be on the verge of tears, and I want to demand that she let me in so I can hold her. “I want to be alone. Please just go away!”
The pain in her voice guts me. I lean my head against her stall door as sounds of the countdown to midnight ring through the hotel.
“Happy New Year,” I whisper, and I leave.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
New Year’s Day in the Big Apple
“The fragile, the broken, sit in circles and stay unspoken . . .
Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die.”
—“Hospital for Souls” by Bring Me The Horizon
At some point I will learn to stop feeling relieved. When one thorny situation passes, something worse inevitably rises in its place. Hours after Anna’s test has ended, an emergency summit is called in New York City.
Anna has failed her test. There’s no other explanation for the summit. Neph are not called to attend unless one of us is to be dealt with. I thought she did well, but apparently she let her true nature show at some point last night. Father sends his jet to get me, Blake, Kope, and the twins. I’m sick to my stomach. I can feel the others looking at me during the flight, but I can’t stand to meet their eyes and see the pity there. Or the mutual fear.
I can only assume Anna’s father will bring her to New York, or attempt to escape with her. But if they run, the demon lot will give chase, and they’ll be found. Either way, Anna is doomed.
I am twisted up inside like a rope in intricate, nonsensical knots, so full of anger and hatred I can scarcely hold it in. I don’t know how I’ll make it through this night. I don’t know how I’ll be able to watch what torture the Dukes have in store for Anna.
All day I’ve tried to put on my straight face and close off my heart to any feelings, but this is too big. I can’t numb myself. I can’t block it out. I don’t even know how she feels for me anymore, but it doesn’t matter. I know how I feel, and watching her suffer will kill me.
On the way to the hotel I stop at a spirits shop and use my fake ID to buy bourbon. I have to keep a tolerant buzz tonight in order to hide any possible bond that might show between me and Anna. Only the twins’ father, Astaroth, would have the ability to see it, but that would be enough to have the both of us killed. The five of us take a cab to the hotel and sit silently. Waiting. The tension in the room is like static electricity. I’m pouring bourbon into my flask when Kopano gets a call from Belial.
“Pick up Anna on your way to the summit. She’s in room 433. Same hotel as you.”
“Yes, Duke Belial,” he answers smoothly.
Of course Belial would ring Kope to collect her. I stare at the wall and shake my head.
We leave soon after that, sliding into our coats and winding scarves about our necks. My body is heavy as we take the lift down to Anna’s floor.
Kopano knocks on her door, and she opens it slowly. She smiles hesitantly when she sees it’s us. Nobody but Marna smiles back. Anna looks fit in a pair of black trousers with black heels and a puffy gray coat. Her hair is down and she’s exuding such a sweetness I have to look away before she meets my eye.
We leave to walk to the comedy club where the summit will take place—fucking demon humor. The six of us are the only people in Times Square who aren’t laughing and talking, plastered, or nutters. My fists are shoved tightly into my jacket’s pockets, and I cannot unclench them.
I keep Anna in my sight, and each time I feel her eyes on me, soft and warm, I want to close my eyes and savor it. Instead I lock my jaw and let the flavor of hatred roll around on my tongue.
I wonder if Belial has told her the rules about a summit—how Neph are not to speak unless asked a direct question. I wonder if Belial has taught her to lie with confidence when the Dukes question her. I wonder if—holy shit . . . is Anna still a virgin? My father will know. My fists clench tighter.
When we turn down the street where the summit will take place, I fall back to walk beside Anna. My eyes scan the area for immediate dangers. I’ve been listening out for Dukes all day, trying to catch any snatches of conversation that might give clues about what they’re after tonight, but it’s all bollocks. They say nothing of importance, so wrapped up in their own enjoyments.
Being next to Anna soothes me, and I can finally relax my hands and take them from my pockets. I want to look at her, but I’m afraid I will grab her and run.
It’s a cruel fate that Anna showed up at my gig that night last summer. It’s cruel that I opened my heart for the first time in my life to the one person who could so utterly annihilate me with her goodness. It’s a cruel fate that I pushed her away to keep her safe, only to lose her anyhow.
But she does have the hilt—the Sword of Righteousness that the nun gave her. I wonder what kind of damage she could do with it tonight. How many Dukes could she kill before she’s taken down? Does she have it in her?
We’re momentarily halted by a load of people spilling out of a club. Anna’s arm brushes mine, and I feel the back of her hand against my palm, then her pinkie winds around mine, deliberately connecting us while it’s too crowded for anyone to notice.
I am flooded with a blinding sense of joy at this simple contact from Anna—this small gesture that shows I still mean something to her. Recklessness overcomes me, and while the street is too crowded for anyone to notice, I pull Anna by the pinkie and she follows easily. I’m holding my breath, so hungry for this moment I can hardly stand it.
I lead her quickly into a small alcove stairway where we rush down, away from the others. It’s dark and smells of damp earth as I turn her to face me and press my mouth to hers. She doesn’t push me away; she pulls me closer. She meets my fierceness with her own, and together we heat each other in the icy air. Our frozen noses and cheeks thaw. Even the air around us steams with warmth. We cling and taste and breathe each other’s breaths.
This stolen kiss tells me everything I need to know. Anna still wants me. Still cares for me. Still needs me.
We break the kiss and I press my forehead to hers. Our breath clouds around us, too hot for the winter air. I watch her as she touches my face, and I can’t understand how anyone could want to hurt her. I don’t want to live in a world where someone like Anna Whitt is in danger for being who she is.
I would trade places with her if I could. In fact, if Anna is to die tonight, so will I. I won’t let her die alone.
When Ginger orders us up from the stairwell, back to reality, everything is a blur. I take a long draw from the flask, relishing the burn and how it dulls my senses. Is this what it’s like, when you know you’re going to die? I’m a zombie as we make our way down into the comedy club for the summit. A dead man walking.
The six of us sit as far from the Dukes as possible. The Aussie Neph guarding the door doesn’t find the knives hidden in the compartments of my boots. I bend down at our table while everyone’s busy and take them out, sliding them into my pockets. Blake notices, his jaw tightening. He won’t look directly at me, but he’s blinking and I know he wants to ask me what the hell I’m thinking.
I lace my fingers over my abdomen and lean back. When the time comes, I don’t want him involved. I don’t expect anyone to try to save me.
I drink more.
Father takes the stage and I stare without expression as he cordially welcomes the Dukes and Legionnaires and Azael, the personal messenger of Lucifer who might’ve been the spirit circling Anna at that party before Belial showed—still don’t know what that was about. Father welcomes Rahab, the Duke of Pride, to the stage, and I feel the burn of bile and bourbon rising as Rahab reminds all of us Neph of our place in the world.
“Your life is not your own. You were bred to serve us. . . . There is one among you who has been warned, and yet still chooses poorly.”
Has been warned? Was Anna ever warned? I wait for the bomb to drop, but Rahab never even looks toward Anna. He stares toward a middle table full of Neph.
“Gerlinda. Daughter of Kobal.”
Bloody hell. My eyes shoot around the room as it all becomes clear.
It’s not about Anna. They’re after another Neph.
I school my body and my face not to react. I must not exhale loudly or slump with relief. I sit rigidly and take a celebratory sip of bourbon, though I’m quite buzzed enough to block any bond from showing.
I lean forward and steal a glance toward Anna, and the look on her face punctures my heart, deflating my relief.
She is staring at the stage and the Neph Gerlinda with unguarded horror, as if she might scream or cry as the Dukes begin to heckle.
No, Anna, I want to say. Sit silent and be grateful. There’s nothing you can do to stop it. You don’t even bloody know her . . . but since when has that mattered to Anna? She is a bleeding heart for injustice, and I know it will scar her to witness this. I don’t particularly want to view this show myself, so I know it’s a million times worse for her.
Shite, she needs to just stare at the wall and try to block it out or something. But every time I glance down she’s fervently watching, even moving her lips.
Please, Anna, please. For the love of God, keep your damn mouth shut.
She is making me so nervous. If she can just make it through this, we’ll all be all right. I know it’s cruel of me, but I don’t care about Gerlinda or what’s happening to her onstage. I can block it out. I can only hope Belial has taught this skill to Anna.
I’m beginning to sweat in this stupid button-up shirt. It’s freezing outside, but a thousand degrees in here. I undo the next button on my shirt and take another drink. Gin shoots me a “stay still” glare.
The entire room tenses and I look up for the first time, allowing myself to fully see what’s happening. Rahab has raised the gun to the Neph woman’s head. I’ve never seen anyone die before. I start to shift my eyes away when I hear a lovely voice call out from several seats down, and my heart stops.
“No!” Anna shouts.
Oh, my God. Her voice rings in my ears, echoing. No, no, no . . .
Everyone turns toward our tables, staring in shock. Rahab yells, “Which of you dares to speak out at this sacred summit?”
This cannot be happening. Why, Anna, why? Why can’t you be a silent bystander just once?
The room begins to spin as they bring Anna to the stage. My stomach rolls. I move to the edge of my seat, and I see Kopano grip the table edge in front of him. All eyes in the room are on Anna, but Belial slightly turns and eyes our group of Neph in the corner. With one hand at his side he cups it downward and presses down as if to say Stay seated.
Does he have a plan?
It’s taking every ounce of my energy to remain seated while Anna is up there under Rahab’s scrutiny. I have no idea how she can manage to appear both fragile and strong all at once.
Father waves a hand in the air, and my stomach drops when he speaks. “Good Hades, Belial! She’s still a virgin!”
The room gasps in unison. Blake flinches next to me, and Kope scoots forward. Marna covers her mouth, but Ginger slaps her hand quickly down.
The Dukes argue about how to deal with Anna and why she is still pure. All I can do is stare at her face, at the fear in her creased brow. By now, Rahab is furious that his show’s been interrupted by an insolent Neph, and he’s ready to punish her with or without her father’s permission. He shoves Gerlinda out of the way and hits Anna in the side of the head. My hand is in my pocket and I’m halfway to my feet before Blake grabs my arm like a steel vise and yanks me back down.
Anna gets up again, standing strong as she takes yet another hit. The sound of her involuntary cry makes me struggle to take in air. I want her to reach for the hilt and murder him. I want him dead. Why isn’t she using the sword?
Rahab points to the gun on the table and snarls at Anna. “To make amends for disrupting our session, you will complete it for us. You will kill her yourself.”
Shite. She will not pull that trigger. And he knows it. Everything with these bastards is a test or a game. And the rules are always stacked to ensure our failure.
“Raise the gun,” Rahab tells her.
I know with sudden clarity—this is the moment we’ll both die. Only a miracle can save Anna now.
Only a miracle . . .
My vision blurs for a split second, and a foreign urge stirs deep within me. I have never spoken to God. Never asked Him for anything. But for the first time ever . . . I want to pray.
As Anna stares down at that gun, a silent prayer stutters its way from my heart.
Save her. Please. I’m begging You. You’re the only one powerful enough. I will do anything. If I live, I will stay far away from her. Please, just don’t let them kill her. Take me instead. Don’t let her suffer. . . .
“Last chance,” Rahab says. He raises the gun to Anna’s head and cocks it. When I hear the click, I’m on my feet and my knife is out. Rahab will be dead before he has a chance to pull the—
What the bloody hell is that? A gigantic light splits the back of the room and sends out a glow. Did someone open a door or turn on a spotlight? I look at Anna and find she is the only one not looking at the light.
She’s looking at me. And then Kopano, who’s standing two seats down. She gives her head an almost indecipherable shake, and I feel an overwhelming urge to sit. It takes me a moment to realize she is using her silent compulsion, and I want to scream.
The room brightens further and Rahab lowers his arms. All of the attention has turned away from Anna, to the light. I squint as I try to look at it. Abruptly, I fall back into my chair and stare.
Angels. The Maker sent angels. Is this . . . did He answer my prayer? Or is this coincidence? I begin to shake, overcome by the beings pushing into the room. The Dukes are falling back and scrambling to move away. Neph jump up and run, huddling against the walls in fear. The angels eye the room sternly and I have no doubt they would gladly take out every one of our stained souls if the Maker gave the order. I want to run onstage and snag Anna away, but the angels move forward.
“It is not her time,” says the angel in front, nodding to Anna. “She will serve as a test to many souls.”
Not her time . . . I exhale in a rush. They really are here to save her.
Oho, Rahab is livid. A purple vein has taken prominence in his forehead. To see the Dukes crapping themselves might be the highlight of my life.
