“Ready?” I ask Oreo. He raises his butt into the air, like a professional runner. I force a smile onto my face. “Good boy.” I count down from three in my head. My breath stutters. “Now!”
We shoot forward, eating up the distance with long strides. The sand becomes smoother here, slipping under my feet. I don’t remember it being this way when we arrived, but I wasn’t very awake by then. It gets harder to run,and I slip. Someone screams behind me. More calls join the first. It’s them. The reapers have seen me.
Someone blows a horn, a strange alarm that stretches on, echoing into my very bones. It makes the earth buzz beneath my feet. Shivers of fear stalk down my spine as the sound ceases.
“Faster!” I cry out, then a reaper appears in front of me like a ghost, bursting from the ground we step on. My heart jerks in my chest,and I screech, halting, slipping on the sand as I readjust my course. I whirl around, dashing to the right.
“She’s here!” he screams, and by the buzzing of electricity behind me, I can tell he’s summoning one of those bad-ass scythes. I don’t want to know what they do to rogue spirits like me.
Another reaper pops up in front of me. Then a third. Shit. Shit, shit. We’re screwed. Oreo’s paws flare with new fire, the sudden orange a blinding light. Another reaper appears, closing us off. I look around me, ready to dash off in another direction, but there aretoo many, coming too fast. Teleporting is so freaking unfair.
My heart thunders in my chest, ready to burst out through my rib cage. I dart my gaze around me, looking for a way out, but new reapers appear, one after the other, all of them with those scythes in hand. Oreo lowers himself in front of me, his fire burning brighter than ever as he bares his teeth and roars. But he’s just a pup,and there aretoo manyof them. I can already see them hurting him out of spite for what he did to that first reaper.
My shoulders sag in realization. That’s it. I lost. There’s no way to go back to my men. My father was right when he wanted to keep me from disappointment. My eyes sting with unshed tears, but I won’t let them see it. I won’t let these reapers have the satisfaction of breaking my heart.
One of them raises his scythe to Oreo with a cruel smirk. I drop to my knees, throwing my arms around the hellhound, protecting him from a hit. The reaper doesn’t stop, the scythe crackling with darkness as it descends toward my head.
An arm slips around my waist. It’s weirdly gentle for what I expected of these reapers. Someone presses themselves to my back, warm breath to my ear, and then darkness explodes. My breath chokes in my throat as I slam my eyes shut, and it’s like being tugged forward by my belly button. Like traveling through a portal.
When I open my eyes, I’m kneeling between the ruins again. I blink rapidly and shoot to my feet. How the fuck did I end up back here? I look up at the hurricane once more in the distance.
“Got you in the nick of time, eh, pet?”
I whirl around so fast that I almost lose my balance. Oreo growls again, his fire illuminating a circle around me, making it easy to see the person standing with me. Well. Not exactly a person.
Definitely not a person.
CHAPTER8
CASSANDRA
The first thing I see is the horns. Not one, like a unicorn, but two, curling from his upper temples away from his face, like a big and mad mountain goat. They’re not even cute horns, but black and scary, and it might be rude, but I can’t help but stare. My jaw is probably hanging, too.
He opens a smile, a lopsided grin that tells a lot about his personality. “I know, I’m this hot.”
The urge to roll my eyes is so strong I can’t help myself. Once I’m done, I school my features and study him. Was it he who rescued me from the reapers? Who appeared at the last second and whisked me into a portal? But why? Who is this guy?
Oreo snarls again, and I stand my ground, crossing my arms over my chest. Just because this guy saved me, it doesn’t mean he’s on my side. Prince was proof of that. “Who the hell are you?” I shoot at him, keeping my chin up and my face empty.
“Hell,” he murmurs with a chuckle. “Name’s Zaki. You can call me whatever you want.” He takes one step closer. Too close. “I never mind being called names.”
Now that he’s walked into Oreo’s light, it’s easier to see him. And shit, I should not have put my eyes on his face. He’s stunning in a way that doesn’t feel natural. Maybe he has a glamour on? There’s no way to know, not now that I don’t have my powers.
Zaki is heartbreakingly handsome. His nose is sharp,with the tip tilted up, just like his jaw—sharp, with the chin protruding slightly. His hair is so black I can tell it’s the real deal, even in this colorless place, the same hue of his expressive brows and the irritatingly long eyelashes. Perfectly drawnlips tilt in that arrogant grin. His eyes glint,and a tiny part inside me is dying to learn what color they are.
His clothes are elegant, from his well-tailored suit to his shirt, down to his pants. They look dark, though I can’t tell the real color. He’s fit and tall, with strong shoulders. I watch him with fake annoyance for a minute before I see something moving behind him. It stops when I narrow my eyes. I can’t see what it is.
“Awfully good timing you have,” I say, not hiding my hesitation. “Last time someone saved me, I ended up in a cage. A better cage than the previous one, but still a cage.”
Both his brows rise on his forehead. Interest sparkles in his eyes. “Color me interested. I would like to hear that story, but our time is short.” And he shoots a glance over my shoulder, into the distance. I turn in that direction, seeing the hurricane and hearing the faint commotion that is the reapers searching for me. “You have started quite the search.”
“What do you have to do with it?” I spit at him.
He slides a glance at Oreo. “And you have a hellhound playing guard dog. Fascinating.”
I shift to stand closer to Oreo. “What’s fascinating about that?”
He shrugs, then leans against the crumbling wall next to us. “Hellhounds are loyal creatures. They attend to their masters to their death. But their masters are, you know...” And he circles his forefinger up, motioning to the surrounding place. “Usually fallen angels. Leaders of battalions and that sort of thing. I’ve never seen a hound serving a human.”