And he was clearly so hot.
Swallowing hard, Miklia reached for Jessica’s hand, seeking support. Kind of sweet. Too bad they were deluded murderers. “You’re a Guardian?”
“Yes.”
“And you know . . . you know what we’ve been doing?”
“Yes.” Marc’s expression turned dark and forbidding. “I know you killed your brother. Why?”
Miklia’s face fell. Disappointment and dismay leaked through her psychic shields. “You don’t think we should have?”
“Guardians only slay demons. Not vampires, not unless they deserve it. Did your brother hurt anyone?”
Her jaw set; her lips formed a stubborn line. “He wasn’t my brother anymore.”
“Yes, he was. The body changes, but the soul doesn’t.” His gaze moved to meet Jessica’s. “Abram Bronner, too. The same man. The same good man.”
Jessica’s chin lifted. “Can you prove it to us?”
“Yes.”
She blinked. They all looked startled for a moment. Then Jessica collected herself, glanced at the redhead next to her. “Ines, you and Lynn need to be watching on each side of the field now, making sure no one is coming.”
Ines looked at Marc again, her gaze lifting to the apex of his wings. “But—”
“We talked about this, Nessie,” Jessica snapped, cutting off her protest. Clearly the leader. “You got to see him up close. Now you have a responsibility to uphold—or will you fail us and leave us all exposed, like you almost did when you left your book open for everyone to see?”
Oh, guilt trip, because someone might have seen a book open. This was a hard-core little group.
Ines’s lower lip trembled. “No one did.”
No one except for Gregory Jackson. But Radha noticed that Marc didn’t point that out—probably to protect the kid. These girls would probably go after him if they knew he’d seen a few titles and drawings.
“Only because someone is looking out for us,” Jessica claimed. “The book said a door would open, and it did, didn’t it? We’re on the right path, but only if you take the needed steps—and right now, those steps are not standing here. So, go. And you, Lynn. Now.”
No more arguments. The girls took off in opposite directions, heading for the stands. So they had worked it out in advance—probably using the highest bleachers on each side as a lookout point.
Jessica looked to Marc again. “So where’s your so-called proof?”
“You have it,” he said. “It’s your memory of everything they’ve ever done. Has any of it been evil? Name one thing.”
They apparently couldn’t. Angrily, they simply stared back at him.
“What have they done? Tell me why they deserved to die. Just one thing.”
“They hide their evil.” Miklia found her answer and immediately warmed up to it. Fists clenched, she tossed out, “They lie!”
“They lie,” Jessica echoed. “Just as demons do. Isn’t that true?”
“Vampires aren’t demons.”
“And demons sow doubts. Don’t they?”
Oh, Radha saw where this was going. Marc wanted them to doubt their actions. Therefore, he was obviously a demon. Marc must have seen the direction they were taking, too. With a sigh, he shook his head.
“And they can take any form! Isn’t that right? But you can’t hurt us. So we’re not afraid of you!”
“I’m almost sorry for that,” Marc said, and he glanced at Radha. Debating whether to try something else, she knew, or just leave.
Leaving seemed like the most sensible option. These girls weren’t going to be talked or scared into anything—and certainly not into accepting any truth but the one they already believed. Nothing she or Marc did would change that.
The sensible option wasn’t any fun, but that was sometimes the life of a Guardian.
Jessica crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you really have anything to tell us?”
Was there anything they’d listen to? As if tired, Marc rubbed the back of his neck. Yes, completely done with this whole scene. Radha was, too.
“Just try not to hurt anyone,” he said. “That includes vampires. That’s all I can tell you.”
“That’s all?” As if stricken, Miklia fell to her knees. “Then you can’t be a Guardian. A Guardian would have supported us, no matter what.”
So much for the power of glowing wings and a mysterious spicy scent. She met Marc’s eyes, gestured upward, and concealed her voice from the girls. “Ready to go?”
He nodded, but a movement in the bleachers across the field tore Radha’s gaze away from him. Not long enough to affect the illusion she’d created, but—
What is that redheaded girl doing with a crossbow? Ripping pain slammed through Radha’s wing and shoulder from behind. She cried out, stumbling forward from the impact.
“Radha!” Almost instantly, Marc crossed the distance between them and swept her up before she fell. He knelt, cradling her against him, his big body shielding hers. Face white, his gaze dropped to her shoulder. “God damn them. Are you all right?”
Through gritted teeth, she forced out, “Fine.”
A bloodied arrowhead and shaft jutted through the front of her right shoulder. It hurt—a lot—but that was what happened when a Guardian was stupid enough not to keep her eye on a deluded human: she got a surprise crossbow bolt.
It didn’t matter. She’d had worse. Still, it would hurt more before it got better. “Tear it out,” she told him.
Jaw clenching, he nodded, broke off the jutting arrowhead. Behind Marc, Jessica and Miklia stared at them, mouths hanging open. Her illusions had shattered, Radha realized. Another unfortunate consequence of a surprise crossbow bolt through the shoulder.
Jessica came out of her shocked stupor. “There’s two!” she shouted. She fell to her knees beside Miklia.
“Bl . . . blue.” Miklia was staring at Radha, stuttering from astonishment. “And wings.”
“Shut up! And hurry!” Jessica shouted at her, ripping off her gloves and digging through the snow. “Ines! Come on, shoot!”
“It’ll hurt.” Marc reached for the feathered shaft still sticking out the back of her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
So was she. But it was the fastest way—she’d begin healing as soon as it came out. “Do it quickly.”
He yanked. Radha screamed.
The ground shivered. Eyes glowing, the power of his Gift slipping through his shields, Marc looked over Radha’s head to the bleachers behind her. Lynn was still back there, Radha realized—the girl had shot the crossbow at her. Aiming for the illusion of Marc, but an invisible Radha had been in the way.
Aiming for Marc. And Ines was still in the other bleachers—
A wet, horrifying thunk. Marc jolted forward. His arms went limp. Radha tumbled from his grip, onto the snow. A crossbow bolt was embedded in his upper back. He hadn’t been struck through the brain, but through the spine.
Almost as bad. He couldn’t walk. She couldn’t fly.
“Grab them, Miklia!” Jessica shouted—and dragged a sword up from beneath the snow. “If you hold on to them, the Rules say they can’t get away!”
They couldn’t. And these girls knew exactly how to slay them. They’d planned it perfectly. Her own sword in hand, Miklia scrambled toward them, her determined gaze narrowed on the back of Marc’s neck. No wooden stakes now, because to kill a demon—or a Guardian—they needed to cut through the heart or chop off the head.
Marc’s power shook the ground. Unable to move, but still able to use his Gift. Yet if he hurt these girls with it—even inadvertently, while taking Radha and himself away from here—he’d break the Rules. He’d break them protecting her.
“No need,” Radha whispered to him.
Rising to her knees, she circled his shoulders with her uninjured arm, easily supporting his deadweight. Miklia and Jessica were almost on them. Not fast enough. Radha could form a hundred illusions before they took another step.
She usually didn’t like to remember past hurts, but Marc had a bolt sticking out of his back—and her illusions were always best when based on something real.
Discovering a demon’s collection, bodies gathered from graveyards and put on display for his sick pleasure.
Radha and Marc burst apart in an explosion of putrid gases, maggots spilling out of rotting flesh. With a shriek, Miklia skidded to a halt, began gagging. Jessica didn’t waver.
Almost falling beneath a demon’s sword.
Too quickly to avoid, a blade sliced through the air, through Jessica’s wrist. Blood spurted, melting the snow. Eyes widening in terror, she stared at the exposed flesh and bone. Then disbelief vanished, and she began to scream.
Her sword dropped from her real—and still attached—hand.
In the bleachers, Ines was reloading her crossbow, but Radha had a brand-new wound to share. Surprise crossbow bolt through the shoulder. The girl cried out, dropping her weapon. A moment later, Lynn did the same.
For thirty seconds, she let them scream and cry—and wanted to cry herself when she tore the bolt from Marc’s back. She gathered him close, then vanished the illusions.
Always fun, except for when it was horrifying.
“Go,” she told them. “Run now, straight to the sheriff, and confess what you’ve done. If you don’t, I’ll hunt you down, and I’ll give you nightmares that a demon couldn’t dream of.”
They only stared at her, sobbing. Enough. She rose up, thirty feet tall, eyes blazing down on them with the fires of Hell. Lightning streaked the sky behind the whirlwind of her hair. The ground shook beneath her steps.
Her voice thundered. “GO!”
They ran.
CHAPTER 6
Radha hadn’t been able to fly, but her one uninjured arm was more than strong enough to lift him, and her legs could run as fast as her wings could fly. Marc couldn’t say that he was proud to have been carried off the playing field and into the empty high school gym, but the tenderness with which she’d held him as they recovered from their wounds more than made up for it.