Runaway Devil
63

Kara

Bethany curled into me, knowing that I would never let anything happen to her. I wrapped an arm around her frame, realizing how small she was. In my true skin, I could cover her whole body with my own.

"That's enough!" Azgaria stepped forward, her voice commanding our attention. She had watched her soldiers slaughtered and she was tired of it. I could only imagine her embarrassment. That was what happened when you sacrificed quality for quantity; she would only need to learn that lesson once.

She stood at the center of the massacre, treading over the bodies of her warriors. "Your disrespect and disregard for your superiors sicken me. You would rather run and hide amongst humans than accept the fate chosen for you," She shook her head in disgust. "I expect nothing less from a traitorous coward."

I stood, slowly straightening to my full height, and spit a mixture of blood and mucus at her feet. "I'm glad we're on the same page." Her cheeks flamed and I could practically see her hackles rising.

"You impertinent, inconvenient, piece of shit. It could have been so easy, I could have made it painless for you," she said.

"Cut the shit, Azgaria. You and I both know you would have enjoyed dragging it out." She shrugged.

"Can you blame me? The look of anguish on your face would have been," she sucked air in through her teeth, "Delicious." Alec gripped the hilt of his sword tighter, unable to control the growl in his throat. "Finally, I can get a good look at you," she turned her attention to Alec, giving him an intrusive once over. "Tell me," she glanced at me before looking back at him. "How does angel taste?"

Jareth snarled, spinning his ax, looking like he was about to charge her. "Oh, yes, an old lover and new. How quaint." Her smile was venomous. "How does it feel to fight for a woman who abandoned you and then proceeded to ally herself with an angel?" She egged Jareth on, transparent with her intentions. I risked a brief look at him and our eyes met. My heart ached in my chest; his eyes cut right through me. She wanted to put distance between us and it was working.

Azgaria gestured, a movement so small I almost didn't catch it. I watched out of the corner of my eye as an arrow whizzed passed her shoulder, aimed directly at my chest. Everything slowed as I raised my sword, already knowing that I was too slow. It was too late, I barely heard Alec and Jareth shout, my attention focused on the shadow that passed in front of me.

After a brief pause of absolute silence, instead of a white-hot pain in my chest, I felt a tight pulse of pain shoot through my shoulder. I watched, not breathing, as Balan rolled to a stuttering stop in a heap upon the ground, an arrow protruding from his shoulder. My eyes widened and my body shook as I looked at him, he wasn't moving, he wasn't getting up. The archer dropped from his position in one of the trees, cursing, and grabbed another arrow. My mind went blank and I dropped my sword. I felt the dagger in my hand, and in the next moment, it was buried in the archer's throat.

He sputtered wetly, blood pouring from his jugular. I moved faster than I ever had before. The wounded left alone on the battlefield are as good as dead. They were easy kills and a prime target for the enemy. I opened my wings to their full span for coverage as I slid to a stop, wrapping my body around Balan.

I pulled him to my chest, my arm under his neck, assessing the damage. His breathing was irregular and short, I put my ear to his chest and listened to his lungs. There was a wet rasping, punctured lung. His heart was directly behind his lungs, I couldn't say how close the arrow was to it. I wrapped my wings around him, covering him in a blanket of black feathers.

I slowly dragged my gaze up, snarling with a wave of new anger deep within me. Azgaria was watching me, a new archer beside her, his arrow nocked. Both Jareth and Alec were surrounded by soldiers, blocking their path to me. I was cut off, on my own with my wounded hound. I listened to his growls and groans in my arms, the fear and pain in me blooming into a rage. My eyes shone with a piercing light from under my angry brows.

"Another," Azgaria's voice was just above a whisper. The archer sent the arrow flying. I was ready this time, I flicked my wing and blocked the arrow's path with it. The pain was inconsequential, no matter how intense it was. It only doubled my rage, my snarls turning to roars. "Again." He let another arrow loose. That time it found my shoulder, scraping against my collarbone.

I lowered my head, focusing my attention on healing Balan. I snapped the end of the arrow off, plunging my claws into his flesh to fish out the head. His body began to shake and I sent comfort through our bond. I closed my eyes and concentrated; I could see the glow between us behind my closed lids. "More. Quickly, before she can finish."

Arrows rained down upon us, many cutting through my skin only to land beside me. Blood was dripping from me steadily, my head spinning. But I didn't stop. I leaned all the way forward, until my forehead brushed the grass, knitting his cells back together. He began to twitch. He could feel how little I had left in me, he wanted me to stop.

Azgaria barked another order but her words did not register with me. The arrows stopped and were replaced with silence. I sat still, barely breathing, thankful for the reprieve nonetheless.

"Kara, talk to me," Alec's voice sounded far away, like a whisper against the wind. "Kara..."

"Karau, please. Karau," Jareth's was even further removed. My eyes fluttered closed against my better judgment. "Stay with me, Karau. Stay..."

I was thrust back into consciousness with a sudden blinding sting across my back. I gasped shakily, a jolt of pain shooting through my body. I lifted my head, blinking back the blood from my eyes. One of Azgaria's generals held a whip in his hand, it gleamed in the sunlight, its surface slick. He lifted it, droplets falling from the tight leather, readying for the next strike.

The end of the whip caught my face, flicking over my cheek, opening a cut from below my cheekbone to my chin, across my lips. My head snapped to the side, the sizzle of my skin burning my eyes. The pain was excruciating, stealing my voice from my throat. I tasted it on my tongue, my blood boiled on my skin, and in my mouth. Holy water. The realization was devastating.

"You see what time and breeding can do, Karau? The warriors you write off so quickly have something you could only dream of." The new soldiers. They were not merely the next round of enlisted demons. They were of a completely different genetic makeup. "Resistance to holy water," she approached a nearby warrior, who stood at attention. "Sure, they need a bit more training, a bit more discipline. But, I wanted to show them to you," she looked back at me. "What do you think?"

I was thinking that we were fucked.

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