As Jev promised, a door appeared at the end of the hallway. I pushed through it and found myself outside. Wasting no time, I broke into a jog. I didn’t think it was a good idea to stand in the open, choosing instead to hide behind the Dumpsters until Jev came for me. I was halfway down the all ey when the door swung open behind me.
“Over there!” a voice shouted. “She’s getting away!”
I looked back only long enough to confirm they were Nephilim. Then I took off. I didn’t know where I was going, but Jev would have to find me elsewhere. I raced across the street, heading back to where we’d abandoned the Tahoe. When Jev didn’t find me in the all ey, hopefully his car was the next place he’d think to look.
The Nephilim were too fast. Even at a full sprint, I could hear them closing in. Everything came ten times easier to them, I realized with increasing panic. When they were only moments away from seizing me, I whirled around.
The two Nephilim slowed, instantly wary of my intentions. I shifted my eyes between them, breathing heavily. I could keep running and draw out the inevitable. I could put up a fight. I could scream bloody murder and hope Jev heard. But every option felt like grasping at straws.
“Is it her?” the shorter one asked with a formal accent that sounded British. He eyed me shrewdly.
“It’s her,” the taller, an American, confirmed. “She’s using a trance. Focus on one detail at a time, the way the Black Hand taught us. Her hair, for instance.” The shorter Nephil squinted at me so intently I wondered if he could see all the way through to the bricks on the building behind me. “Well, well,” he said after a moment. “Red, is it? I preferred you blond.”
With inhuman speed, they were at my sides, each gripping an elbow so hard I winced. “What were you doing in the warehouse?” the taller Nephil asked. “How did you find it?”
“I—,” I began. But I was too terrified to think up a plausible lie. They weren’t going to believe me if I said sheer dumb luck was responsible for my stumbling through their window in the middle of the night.
“Cat got your tongue?” the shorter said, tickling under my chin.
I jerked away.
“We have to take her back to the warehouse,” the taller one said. “The Black Hand or Blakely will want to question her.”
“They won’t be back till tomorrow. Might as well get some answers now.”
“What if she doesn’t talk?”
The shorter Nephil licked his lips, something frightening lighting up his eyes. “We’ll make sure she does.”
The taller Nephil frowned. “She’ll tell them everything.”
“We’ll wipe her memory when we’re done. She won’t know the difference.”
“We’re not strong enough yet. Even if we could erase half of it, it wouldn’t be enough.”
“We could try devilcraft,” the shorter suggested with a disturbing gleam in his eyes.
“Devilcraft is a myth. The Black Hand made that clear.”
“Oh yeah? If the angels in heaven have powers, it makes sense the demons in hell should too. You say myth, I say potential gold mine. Imagine what we could do if we got our hands on it.”
“Even if devilcraft exists, we wouldn’t know where to start.” The shorter Nephil wagged his head in irritation. “Always one for fun, you are. Fine. We make sure our stories match. Our word against hers.” He counted down his suggested version of the night’s events on his fingers. “We chased her from the warehouse, found her hiding in the club, and while dragging her back, she got scared and spilled everything. It won’t matter what she says happened.
She already broke into the warehouse. If anything, the Black Hand will expect her to lie again.” The taller Nephil didn’t look fully convinced, but he didn’t argue, either.
“You’re coming with me,” the shorter one grunted, forcing me roughly into the tight space between the buildings at our rear. He paused only to tell his friend, “Stay here and make sure nobody bothers us. If we can extract information from her, it just might earn us extra privileges. Maybe even move us up a rank.”
My whole body went into a slow freeze at the idea of being interrogated by the Nephil, but I’d quickly come to accept that I didn’t stand a fighting chance against both of them. Maybe I could press my advantage. My only hope—and even I knew it was a thin one—was to level the playing field by going one on one. Letting the shorter Nephil drag me deeper into the narrow breezeway, I hoped the gamble would pay off.
“You’re making a big mistake,” I told him, putting all the threat I possessed behind my words.
He rolled up his sleeves, exposing knuckles decorated with various sharp rings, and my courage suddenly felt slippery. “Been in America six months now, waking up at the crack of dawn, training all day under a tyrant, and locked up in the barracks at night. After six months of that prison, let me tell you, it’s going to feel good to take it out on someone.” He licked his lips. “I’m going to enjoy this, luv.”
“You stole my line,” I said, and shoved my knee up between his legs.
I’d seen enough guys at school take a similar hit during sports games or PE class to know the injury wouldn’t completely immobilize him, but I wasn’t expecting him to be ready to lunge at me after nothing more than a pained moan.
He came at me in a blur. There was a discarded two-by-four near my feet, and I snatched it up.
Several rusty nails protruded from it, making it a useful weapon.
The Nephil eyed the block of wood and shrugged. “Go ahead. Try and hit me. Won’t hurt.” I gripped the two-by-four like a bat. “It might not permanently injure you, but trust me, it will hurt.” He faked to his right, but I was expecting it. When he jumped to his left, I swung down hard. There was an awful puncturing sound, and the Nephil yelped.
“That’s gonna cost you.” He kicked high before I had time to register the movement, his boot sending the wood out of my grasp. He wrestled me to the ground, pinning my arms over my head.
“Get off me!” I yelled, twisting under his weight.
“Sure thing, luv. Just tell me what you were doing at the safe house.”
“Get—off—me—now.”
“You heard her.”
The Nephil’s eyes widened in impatience. “What now?” he snapped, whipping his head around to see who dared interrupt us.
“It was an easy enough request,” Jev said, smiling slightly, but it was all lethality at the edges.
“I’m a little busy at the moment, mate,” the Nephil barked, raking his eyes over me for emphasis.
“If you don’t mind.”
“Turns out I do.” Jev grabbed the Nephil by the shoulders and flung him against the building. He splayed his hand across the Nephil’s throat, shutting off his airway.
“Apologize.” With a flick of his head, Jev gestured in my direction.
The Nephil clawed at Jev’s hand, his face flaring with color. His mouth opened and closed like a fish’s, trying to draw oxygen.
“Tell her how deeply sorry you are, or I’ll make sure you have nothing to say for a good while longer.” With his free hand, Jev waved a switchblade, and I realized he meant to cut out the Nephil’s tongue. For what it was worth, I didn’t feel a shred of sympathy. “What’s it going to be?” The Nephil’s eyes burned with rage as he glanced between me and Jev.
Sorry, his infuriated voice spat into my mind.
“It won’t win an Oscar, but it’ll do,” Jev told him with a vicious smile. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Wrenching free, the Nephil gulped air and massaged his throat. “Do I know you? I know you’re a fall en angel—I can feel your power rolling off you like a stench, which makes me think you must have been pretty high up before you fell, maybe even an archangel—but what I want to know is if we’ve crossed paths before.” It seemed like a trick question, meant to help the Nephil track Jev down at some future point, but Jev wasn’t baited.
“Not yet,” he said. “I’ll keep the introduction short.” He plowed his fist into the Nephil’s gut. The Nephil’s mouth was still in the shape of an O when he sank to his knees and went slack.
Jev turned to me. I expected him to demand why I hadn’t stayed in the all ey like we’d agreed, and how I’d wound up with the present company, but he simply wiped a smudge of dirt off my cheek and buttoned the top two buttons on my blouse.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
I nodded, but felt tears swell at the back of my throat.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said.
For once, I didn’t protest.
CHAPTER 19
AS JEV DROVE, I LEANED MY HEAD AGAINST THE window, staying quiet. He kept to side roads and back roads, but I had a rough idea of where we were. Another few turns, and I knew exactly where we were. The entrance to Delphic Amusement Park loomed ahead, imposing and skeletal. Jev pulled into the vacant lot. Four hours ago, he would have been lucky to find a place half this close to the gates.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, sitting up straighter.
He shut off the engine, arching a dark brow. “You said you wanted to talk.”
“Yeah, but this place is …” Empty.
A hard smile touched his mouth. “still don’t know if you can trust me? As for why Delphic, call me sentimental.”
If I was supposed to catch his meaning, I didn’t. I followed him to the gates, watching him vault up and over them with ease. On the other side, he pushed the gate open just wide enough to allow me entrance.
“Could we go to jail for this?” I asked, knowing it was a stupid question. If we were caught, how could we not?
But because Jev looked like he knew what he was doing, I followed. Above the lamplight, a roller coaster towered over the park. An image blazed across my mind, momentarily halting me. I saw myself hurtling off the tracks into a free fall. I swallowed, brushing the image off as having to do with my terror of heights.
I was growing more uneasy by the minute. Just because Jev had saved my skin three times didn’t mean it was a good idea to be alone with him. I supposed I’d been lulled here by the idea of answers. Jev had promised we’d talk, and the temptation had been too appealing to resist.
At last Jev slowed, veering off the walkway and coming to a stop before a ramshackle maintenance shed. It was overshadowed by the roller coaster on one side and a giant spinning wheel on the other. The squat gray structure was the last place anyone’s eyes would travel.
“What’s in the shed?” I asked.
“Home.”
Home? Either he had a sense of humor, or he was redefining simple living. “Glamorous.” A shrewd smile crept to his mouth. “I sacrificed style for safety.” I eyed the weathered paint, sloped awning, and paper-thin construction. “Safe? I could probably kick down the door.”
“Safe from the archangels.”
At the word, I felt a jab of panic. I remembered my last hallucination. Help me find an archangel’s necklace, Hank had said. The coincidence tingled unpleasantly under my skin.
