Runaway Devil
53

I awoke suddenly and violently. My throat was dry and my lips were chapped. Alec was already holding me in his arms, rocking gently in the motel bed. The hum of his voice resonating through his chest grounded me and allowed me to breathe long enough for my head to return to my shoulders.

"Hush, Karau. I'm here, I'm here," He said, his lips soft on the shell of my ear. "You're safe, it was just a dream."

"No, it wasn't," I ran my fingers through my hair and closed my eyes, exhaustion taking over. "Something is wrong, I can feel it in my bones," I rubbed my forehead, trying to dissipate the tense ache. "Can't you feel it?" The blanket was wrapped around our legs, tangled between the two of us. In my struggle, I somehow entrapped myself, limiting any movement. The mattress dipped as Balan climbed up onto it, making himself comfortable directly on my lap. I scratched behind his ears and pulled his head to my chest. One big happy family.

He whined deep in his throat, followed by a gruff harumph. He always hated it when I had nightmares. Balan could feel something was off, the air felt different. It was heavier, thicker than before. There was a new heat floating around, too high up for the humans to detect, but I felt it. It reminded me of home. And for once it wasn't comforting.

Alec rested his chin on the top of my head and sighed. "It woke me up too."

"What is it?" A sense of dread weighed heavily on my chest. Whatever it was, it was big and it was mean.

"More like who is it," Alec sounded tired as if speaking was too much for him. He slept the same amount I did, which was next to nothing. I took a deep breath and held Balan closer.

I craned my neck back, looking up at Alec. His hair was disheveled, sticking in all different directions, and his eyes were droopy and unguarded. I kissed the underside of his jaw, snuggled into his heat, listened to the steady beat of his heart. I felt his lips on the crown of my head as he leaned back, taking all three of us down to the pillows.

"Whoever it is, we can handle them," Alec said quietly. I rested my cheek on his chest, closed my eyes, and focused on breathing. I inhaled and exhaled with him, his heart slowed to a comfortable rhythm, he was asleep in minutes. I don't know how long I laid there, or what was keeping me from sleeping. But an overwhelming sense of foreboding nestled into my mind and wouldn't let go. I suddenly wished for my weapons. My crescent knives, my long sword, and my daggers. I never liked human weapons, they weren't heavy enough, not savage enough. Whenever I used a gun it felt cowardly like I couldn't do the job myself so I needed a toy to do it for me.

I found myself thinking back to my time in Hell, as I often did at night. When the nightmares woke me, or when I'm startled from sleep by my own tremours, my mind always gravitated towards my old world. My true body, the heaviness of it, the strength and power I felt within my own skin, I longed for it constantly. The weight of my sword, the feeling of sweat and grime on the handle after a long battle, the metallic smell of blood that hung around me after. My mouth salivated at the thought of it.

I wanted to feel that again. I wanted to be touched by my bloodlust, I craved it beyond anything else. I needed to be reminded of what it felt like to kill savagely. I needed to remember who I was, what I was made for, what my purpose was. I was born of blood and violence, and I would live in the same fashion.

The thought excited me, my heart jumped in my chest, encouraging me.

My back was tight and sore from sleeping in the kitchen chair. When I peeled my eyes open, the apartment was dark and still, the only sound within it was my breathing. The chill of the night had seeped in through the shotty insulation on the windows. Goosebumps rose on my skin as I rose from the chair and rubbed my face.

I rolled my neck and found my human form irritatingly high maintenance. My annoyance was interrupted by what woke me. It was distant but distinct, I knew that sound like my own heartbeat. Marching. My breath caught in my chest as I strode towards the window. As I opened it, the old wood screeched like an insolent child. I braced my palms on the sill and listened.

The marching was a little ways off, but they were almost here. I focused on the footfalls, estimating close to a hundred men. A cold sweat broke out on the back of my neck, sending a chill down my body. My lips tightened into a stiff line, and an ache bloomed behind my forehead.

There's only one reason that many men would be marching together. And after that influx of energy, a deep sense of dread settled in my chest. The council was here.

A million thoughts ran through my mind, but I kept gravitating back to one. Karau was still out there, and I could feel her getting closer. Our connection was strengthening every day. But with every step she takes, she gets closer and closer to danger. The council was done waiting. If they were here in person, then they meant to kill her themselves. And the last thing anyone wanted was for the council to step in personally. There's a reason they weren't dead yet, even after hundreds of thousands of years.

In Hell, I had my team, my family to stand against the council with. But in the human realm, we were on our own. We may be the Elite, but we were just two demons. There were new limitations in this world, limitations that posed new challenges. For the first time since I was a child, anxiety washed over me. Anxiety for Karau, for our safety. Nothing good could come of the council being here. They would bring death and destruction to us all.

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