“A human can’t punch or kick a Warden around, not even an inch,” Misha said, pointing out the obvious. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t have done what you did, but you need to be careful, Trin.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” he asked quietly.
My breath caught as I closed my eyes. I did know. God, did I ever. Clay had deserved what I did and more, but I needed to be careful.
And while Thierry needed to know what had gone down with Clay, because if he behaved that way with me, it was unlikely I would be the only one, Thierry already had a lot on his plate.
Ever since the leader of the Warden clan in DC died back in January, things had been tense here. There’d been a lot of closed-door meetings, more so than normal, and I had overheard—well, eavesdropped on—Thierry talking about escalating attacks and not just on outposts but on communities nearly as large as ours, which was rare.
Just a couple of weeks ago, demons had come close to our walls. That night...
That night had been bad.
“Do you think Clay will say anything?” I asked.
“If he has two working brain cells to rub together, he won’t.” Misha curled an arm around my shoulders and tugged me forward. I face-planted against his chest. “He’s probably too scared to say anything.”
“Of me,” I said, and grinned.
Misha didn’t laugh like I thought he would. Instead, I felt his chin rest atop my head. A long moment passed. “Most of the Wardens here have no idea what they’re hiding. They cannot know what you are.” He said what I knew, what I’ve always known. “They can never know.”
* * *
Jerking awake with a gasp, I sat straight up in bed. There were demons outside the compound walls.
There were no sirens warning the residents to seek shelter, which was what happened when demons neared the wall. The estate was as silent as a tomb, but I knew there were demons nearby. Some kind of internal demon radar system was telling me this.
The soft, luminous glow of the stars plastered to my ceiling faded as I turned the bedside lamp on and rose swiftly from the bed.
I quickly pulled on a pair of black sweats and a tank top, because going out and investigating while in undies that had the words Hump Day plastered across the ass wasn’t exactly the best of ideas.
Going out there at all would probably be considered a bad idea, but I wasn’t giving myself time to think about that.
I toed on my running sneakers as I snatched the iron daggers from my dresser, an eighteenth birthday present from Jada, and quietly stepped out into the brightly lit hallway. All the lights in the house were left on for me, just in case I got the munchies in the middle of the night. No one wanted me to trip due to lack of depth perception, breaking my neck falling down the steps, so the mansion was like a freaking lighthouse.
I couldn’t even begin to fathom what the electricity bill was like.
The cool metal of the daggers warmed against my palm as I deftly made my way from the third to the main floor, hurrying before anyone, namely my ever-present shadow, discovered I was up and about.
Misha would flip if he caught me, especially after everything that had just gone down with Clay the night before.
So would Thierry.
But this was the second time in a month that demons had gotten close to the walls, and last time I’d done what was expected of me. I’d stayed safely ensconced in the fortresslike walls of Thierry’s home, guarded not only by Misha but by an entire clan of Wardens who were willing to lay down their lives for me even if they didn’t know that was what they were doing.
Two had died that night, disemboweled by the razor-sharp claws of an Upper Level demon. Ripped apart in such a terrible way there was barely anything left of them to bury, let alone to show their loved ones.
That wasn’t going to happen again.
Doing what I was told, doing what was expected of me, almost always ended up in someone else paying the price for my inaction.
For my safety.
Even my mother.
I slipped out the back door and into the cool mountain air of early June, then took off in a jog toward the left branch of the wall, the section I knew wouldn’t be monitored as heavily as the front. The faint glow of city lamps and solar lights faded, pitching the cleared grounds into utter darkness. My eyes didn’t adjust. They never would at night, but I knew this path like the back of my hand, having explored nearly every inch of the several mile long and wide community over the years. I didn’t need my crap eyes to guide me through the thick cropping of trees as I picked up my pace. The wind lifted strands of long dark hair from my face. As I cleared the last of the ancient elms, I knew exactly how many feet existed between me and the wall even though I couldn’t see it in the darkness.
Fifty.
The wall itself stood at a tremendous size, the height equivalent to a six-story building. The first time I’d tried to jump it, I ended up smacking into the side of it like a bug into a windshield.
That had hurt.
Actually, it had taken a couple dozen tries before I cleared the wall, and at least double that before I could do it successfully multiple times.
I dug in as a burst of power and strength exploded through me. Arms pumping, I shifted the daggers into one hand as I reached twenty feet out from the wall and then I jumped.
It was like flying.
The rush of air, the weightlessness and nothing but darkness and faint twinkling lights in the sky. For a few precious seconds, I was free.
And then I slammed into the wall, near the top. Smacking my hand down on the smooth cement of the top, I caught myself with my free hand before I fell. Muscles in my arm screamed as I hung there for a precarious few seconds and then I curled, swinging myself up onto the top.
Breathing heavy, I shook out the burning in my left arm and then palmed the daggers in both hands as I strained to hear anything in the darkness, a sign of where the action was going down.
There.
My head cocked to the right. I heard the sound of low male voices near the entrance. Wardens. Even though their heightened senses would alert them to the presence of demons, they were unaware. My senses were just more keen, and I knew it would be only a matter of minutes before the Wardens became aware of the demons.
I had a choice.
Sound the alarm and send the Wardens into the hilly forest surrounding the community. There was a good chance some would get hurt, maybe even die, but that was what Thierry would demand of me, what Misha was destined to ensure.
That was what I’d done, time and time before, in different situations, and all them had ended the same way.
Me without a scratch and someone else dead.
Or I could change that outcome, take care of the demons before the demons even knew what they were dealing with.
My mind had already been made up when I’d left the house.
Jumping from the wall to the ground would result in a broken bone or two for me, and since prior experience had proved that, I carefully worked my way along the narrow ledge to the place where I knew a nearby tree stretched toward the wall even though I couldn’t see it. I stopped twenty feet to my left, took a deep breath, said a little prayer and then crouched. Leg muscles tensed. My hands gripped the daggers.
One. Two. Three.
I jumped into the void, lifting the daggers high as I brought my knees up to my stomach. I felt the first whisper-soft brush of leaves, kicked my legs out and then I slammed the daggers down. The wickedly sharp ends dug into the bark, clawing deep as I slid down the tree, stopping when my feet touched a thick branch.
Exhaling heavily, I pulled the daggers free and then knelt, using my hands to guide my way. I closed my eyes and let instinct take over. Slipping from the branch, I landed in a crouch, silent as I remained there for a heartbeat before rising. I took off toward my left, heading deeper into the forest, letting the increasing pressure along the back of my neck guide my way. About a hundred feet later, I stopped in a clearing cut by a narrow creek and dimly lit by silvery moonlight. The scent of rich soil filled me as I looked around. My heart rate kicked up as the feeling of heavy oppressiveness settled on my shoulders.
Fingers relaxing and tightening around the handle of the daggers, I scanned the shadows crowding the trees. They seemed to pulse as I squinted, and impulse demanded that I charge forward, but I knew not to trust what my eyes were telling me. I stood perfectly still, waiting—
Crack.
A twig snapped behind me. Spinning around, I swung the dagger in a high, sweeping arc.
“Jesus,” a voice grunted, and then a hard, warm hand circled my wrist. “You nearly took my head off, Trin.”
Misha.
I squinted, unable to make out his face in the darkness. “What are you doing out here?”
“Did you seriously just ask that question?” He held on to my arm as the air stirred around us. Misha leaned down, and all I could make out was the vibrant, bright blue eyes of a Warden. “What are you doing outside the walls in the middle of the night with your daggers?”
No point in lying now. “There are demons here.”
“What? I don’t sense any demons.”
“That doesn’t mean they’re not here. I can feel them,” I told him, tugging on my arm. He let go. “They’re close even if you can’t feel them yet.”
Misha was quiet for a moment. “That’s even more reason why you should be anywhere but out here.” Anger threaded his voice. “You know better than this, Trinity.”
Irritation prickled over my skin as I turned away from Misha to stare rather pointlessly into the shadows as if I could magically get my eyes to work better for me. “I’m tired of knowing better, Misha. Knowing better gets people killed.”
“Knowing better keeps you alive, and that is all that matters.”
“That’s so wrong. That can’t be the only thing that matters.” I almost stomped my foot, but somehow managed to stand still. “And you know that I can fight. I can fight better than any of you.”
“Try not to be too overconfident, Trin,” he replied, tone as dry as the desert.
I ignored that. “Something is going on, Misha. This is the second time in a month that demons have gotten close to the wall. In the last six months, how many communities have been attacked? I stopped counting when it hit double digits, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that each community that’s been attacked has been closer and closer to this one, and each time they’d managed to breach the walls in the other communities, it’s clear they’re looking for something. They’re doing sweeps.”