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Wings of the Wicked

Page 72

   


Sabina exchanged a look with Ava. “I assume so.”
I looked at Will, panic pulsing through me. “What do we do?”
He frowned. “I don’t want you to worry about it. You don’t need any more stress right now.”
I almost laughed. “I have two demonic reapers, both thousands of years old, hunting me, at the moment. This is a slightly different situation than Ragnuk trying to kill me. How can I not worry about it?”
He reached for me again. “Ellie—”
Panic shot through me, and I needed to get away from the reapers. I stepped out of his reach and started back to the lane my friends surrounded. “I’m fine. Just … leave me alone for a minute.”
I heard his fist slam the wall behind me, but I didn’t turn around. When I returned to my friends, Chris put a hand on my shoulder, looking past me to Ava and Sabina.
“Who are they?” he asked, his brown eyes wide. “Are they Will’s friends?”
I eyed him suspiciously. “Yeah. Why?”
“They are smoking hot.”
Not again. What was with my friends and these reapers? “They’re lesbians,” I lied. “Don’t bother.”
Chris grinned stupidly. “Nice.”
I rolled my eyes and looked over my shoulder at the reapers. Will was speaking rapidly to Ava as Sabina stood silently, but judging by the frustration on his face and the sad look in Ava’s eyes, I guessed the subject matter was no longer Merodach and Kelaeno, but me.
The demonic reapers were after me now. I’d killed the nycterids employed by Bastian, and now he was sending his worst after me, just like Cadan had said would happen. I had known my family was in danger, but I was too selfish to do anything about it or to miss out on my stupid social life. All I had left now were my friends, and here I was, perfectly aware that I was in danger and that, by being around them, I put them in danger.
I looked around me at my friends’ smiling, laughing faces as I leaned heavily against the short wall holding all the bowling balls. I didn’t even know what I was doing here. Grabbing my purse, I went up to the shoe rental and returned the bowling shoes for my sneakers. As I walked away, I bit back a sob and a pang of nausea in my gut. The nausea became overwhelming, and I hurried to the restroom, determined not to throw up in front of everyone. I burst in and threw myself into a stall and locked the door behind me. Instead of getting sick, I sat down on the seat and buried my face in my hands. I took long, deep breaths, trying not to cry.
I didn’t want to hurt any more people I loved. I was a target and anywhere I was could potentially be ground zero for a battle. If only I—
The restroom door opened, and voices and footsteps echoed off the walls. They rustled around and stopped in front of the sinks.
“A nutjob for sure,” one girl exclaimed.
A second girl laughed. “How do you know? Have you even talked to her once?”
“Well, her dad killed her mom,” the first girl said. “So the crazy has got to be genetic.”
I swallowed hard and felt an icy rush as the blood drained from my face. My pulse hammered through my skull.
“Is that seriously what happened?” a third girl asked incredulously.
“Oh, yeah. My uncle is a cop, and they’re looking for the dad. He says they’ve been talking to the FBI. It’s that serious.”
The second girl loosed a long whistle. “Wow.”
“What was her name again? Emily something?”
“Ellie Monroe. She’s that girl who got so wasted at her birthday party that she drove her car through her house and almost died or something. But her parents just bought her a brand-new car to replace the one she totaled, because she’s so spoiled. If you ask me, she’s probably what drove her dad to kill her mom. He probably killed himself, too. Can’t blame him.”
My stomach heaved over and over, but nothing came up. I wasn’t crying yet, but if I stayed there another moment, I’d start screaming. I shot to my feet, disoriented, and fumbled with the lock a moment before giving up and snapping it completely off the door. I burst out of the stall and rushed past the girls. They gasped and cried out, but I didn’t look at any of them. There was no more keeping my head held high. I couldn’t face them or anyone else.
Outside the restroom, the crowds and music made my head spin. I was a complete mess. I had to get out of there. If Merodach and Kelaeno found me in this state, there was no way I could fight and protect my friends. I would get Will killed.
I had a terrifying thought: The demonic reapers had probably followed Ava and Sabina here. Ava had to be smarter than that, but I couldn’t take the risk. I couldn’t stay any longer and get anyone else I loved killed, even the strangers or those nasty girls in the restroom. I had to leave.
“Life is difficult, and sometimes we must make difficult decisions to protect the ones we love,” Nana had said to me earlier tonight. She was absolutely right. It was time for me to make a difficult decision, whether it was right or wrong. At this moment, it felt like the right decision.
I caught a glimpse of Will out of the corner of my eye. He was doubled over with one hand on the wall to hold himself up, his eyes squeezed tight and mouth open in physical agony—as if someone had slammed him in the chest with a hammer. I stopped in the crowd, staring at him as he struggled to right himself, Ava’s hand on his back, her expression full of worry. But he pushed her away and forced himself to stand tall as he searched wildly over the heads of my friends and classmates, looking for me. Then he barreled through the crowd, spinning and turning in every direction, calling my name in a fearful voice. I studied him, perplexed, and the truth of what I’d just witnessed hit me like a truck. He always knew when I was upset or in pain. Our bond, the magic that I’d put into his tattoos binding him to me, our bond that allowed him to know what I was feeling … he always knew I was in pain because my pain caused him to hurt. The agony I felt at that moment spilled into him, making him feel through pain what I felt emotionally. I did that to him. I caused him pain. I was cancer, a disease on everyone who knew and loved me.