Rage and Ruin (The Harbinger 2)

Totally engrossed, actually, and my pulse kicked up. A heady flush swept through me, and I did feel a little unsteady. It had nothing to do with my balance and everything to do with the way he was touching me.

“How about I make you a deal?”

“Depends on the deal.” I wasn’t aware of what I was doing until I did it. My hands landed on his. Not to pull them away, but to keep them there.

Zayne stepped in, as close as he could with me being on a wall. Our bodies weren’t touching, but the entire front of my body warmed as if we were. “If you can keep your feet on the ground—both feet,” he added, “I’ll stock the fridge with as much soda as you can drink.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he repeated, his voice deeper, thicker.

“Including Coke?”

“I’ll even throw in a couple of cases of root beer.”

“Mmm. Root beer. People who don’t like root beer are monsters. That’s a great deal.” I lowered my head, stopping a few inches from his. In the soft buttery glow of the lamp, I saw his eyes go half-mast, and the look he gave me, even if he was unaware of it, even if it meant nothing, melted me. “But I can do that all by myself and still keep both my feet off the ground and then some. I refuse your deal.”

Zayne chuckled. “Then I’m going to have to come up with a better deal.”

“Yeah, you are.”

His lower lip slipped between his teeth as his grip on my hips tightened, both actions eliciting a deep, clenching sensation inside me. I felt the tension in the tendons of his hands, the power in his arms, and the flex of his muscles in his forearms and biceps. He was going to lift me up. Maybe settle me on my feet. Or maybe settle me against him.

I knew I shouldn’t allow it, because that ZAYNE drawer was still cracked open, but I didn’t step back and put distance between us. Those pale wolf eyes met mine, and our gazes connected. We connected. He didn’t move. Neither did I. Nothing was spoken between us.

A car horn blared. Zayne dropped his hands as if his palms were burned. I froze, stuck between damning the car horn to Hell and being thankful for the interruption. Then I turned sideways and dragged in deep breaths of exhaust and the sweet, lemony scent of a nearby magnolia tree. I reined in my hormones and latched on desperately to my common sense.

Zayne walked a few feet ahead, hands fisted at his sides. He stayed close to the wall, within reach, probably in case I decided to throw myself off, which sounded great at the moment. Though, I’d been right earlier. A fall from this height would damage only my ego.

Silence ticked by, and I tried to sense through the connection what he was feeling, but I couldn’t get past what was going on with me.

Looking up at the dark sky, I exhaled long and slow. Time to get back on track and move on. Moving on was something I could pretend to be good at. “So...you were about to tell me what you thought?”

He looked over his shoulder, watching me slowly place one foot in front of the other as if I were on a balance beam. “I was thinking about how long the Harbinger has been here, on these streets, hunting Wardens and demons, and none of us have caught one glimpse of it, as far as we know. Makes me think we could spend every night out here, searching, and not find it.”

I stopped, one foot in the air. “Why don’t you think we’ll find it?”

“Because I don’t think we’ll find the Harbinger until it wants to be found.”

* * *

Just before midnight, hot tingles erupted between my shoulder blades.

We’d moved on from the park to roam an area of Capitol Hill that Zayne called Eastern Market, which was a mecca of yummy-smelling restaurants that had my stomach grumbling. I made a mental note to start our next patrol here so that I could taste something from each place.

I stopped walking and looked behind me. “I feel a demon.”

Zayne halted, head tilted to the side and chin up. Turning toward the wide street, I propped my hands on my hips. There were still people out and an ever-present racket of sirens coming from all different directions, but it was nowhere near as busy as earlier in the night.

“Kind of jealous over how quickly you can sense them,” Zayne commented as he stepped toward the curb.

“Yeah, well, you can fly, so...” I followed him, squinting but seeing nothing beyond the streetlamps. “See anything?”

He shook his head. “It’s nearby. Probably a Fiend, but let’s check it out.”

Letting Zayne’s awesome eyeballs lead the way, I followed him across the street. I had no idea where we were going, and I couldn’t read the street signs, but the farther we walked, the darker the sidewalks became. Hoping they were in good condition, I stayed close to him as my tunnel-like vision became worse with each step.

“Where are we?” I whispered as we crossed onto another tree-lined street. It was freakishly quiet.

“We’re on Ninth Street,” he answered. “Southeast. We’re not too far from the naval yard. Normally don’t see a whole lot of demon activity down here.”

I guessed demons didn’t like sailors.

There were a lot of dark buildings and lighted windows surrounding us. They looked like apartment buildings or condos.

“By the way, I’m going to have to push back training tomorrow until later in the afternoon,” Zayne said. “Unless you want to get up early.”

“Yeah, I’ll pass.” Leaves stirred above us as what I hoped was a bird took flight. “What are you doing?”

“Got some stuff—Wait.” Zayne lifted an arm, and I plowed right into it. Lowering his arm, Zayne stalked forward down the street past a narrow alley and then stopped. He knelt. “Look at this.”

My boots crunched over the gravel as I joined him, kneeling down. Zayne’s fingers were on part of a busted chain-link fence. “I see...nothing but your fingers.”

Zayne cursed under his breath. “Sorry. Didn’t think—”

“It’s okay.” I waved him off. “What is it?”

“Blood. Fresh. Well, kind of.”

I rose, looking around. “What does that mean?”

“It’s wet, but really thick. Weird.” He tipped his head up, staring at the trees on the other side of the fence, and then he stood. Going back to the sidewalk, he glanced down the street and then turned back. “I think I know what’s beyond this fence.”

My brows rose. “A big slice of pizza? Hopefully?”

He snickered as he strode forward. “Not quite. It’s an old manufacturing building that was supposed to be converted into apartments, but the funding fell through several years ago.”

“An abandoned building?”

“If you don’t consider bleeding demons occupants, then yes.” Kneeling again, he grabbed the broken section of the fence and peeled it back. “Let’s check it out.”

“Sure. Why not?” I dipped through the opening and wisely waited for Zayne to join me, since I legit could see nothing due to the tree branches blocking out any and all light.

My steps slowed and then stopped. The absence of light was disorienting, causing my heart to start jumping. This was as bad as the blindfold. Maybe worse. My stomach turned cold as I stared at the different shades of nothingness.

“Careful,” Zayne warned, moving ahead. “The branches are really low in here. I need to move them out of the way.”

“Thanks. I...” Drawing in a deep breath, I told myself to get over it and just ask for what I needed. “Can I put my hand on your back? Is that—”

Before I could even finish, Zayne’s hand wrapped around mine, and a second later my palm was flat against his back. With a ragged exhale, I curled my fingers around his shirt and whispered, “Thank you.”

“No problem.” There was a pause. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

My still-in-training Guide Gargoyle led me around trees and low-hanging branches that would’ve surely knocked me out. I counted my steps and noted when Zayne slowed to announce a large rock or fallen tree limb. It took fifty-two footsteps before the thickness of the darkness shifted and shapes began to form in the silvery moonlight.

We stepped onto a lawn that hadn’t been tended in years, the grass reaching my knees. Bushes and weeds choked a driveway that was cut off by the chain-link fence. I took a step and realized sticker bushes had latched on to my leggings.

Ugh.

Letting go of Zayne’s shirt, I reached down and brushed off the little buggers and then straightened, getting my first look at the building.

It was... Um, it might have been lovely in its heyday.

Now the monstrous building looked like something straight out of a horror film. Several stories tall, it had two wings and a whole lot of boarded-up windows. I couldn’t even tell what color it was supposed to be. Gray? Beige? Dusty?

“Well...” I drew the word out. “That definitely looks haunted.”

“Then you’ll come in handy, won’t you?”

I shot him a look behind his back as he made his way through the jungle of a yard to the side of the building. Stopping at a boarded and chained door, he looked back at me. “You still feel the demon, right?”

“Yeppers peppers.”

“Yeppers peppers,” he repeated, shaking his head as he moved to the nearest window. He grabbed one of the boards and yanked. Wood cracked and gave way. He propped the board against the side of the building.

I stepped in and gripped the next board and then pulled. The old wood broke free, and I started to toss it.

Zayne stopped me. “The boards have nails still attached. If we come back out the way we came, I don’t want you stepping on one.”

“Oh.” Chagrined, I gently placed the board against the wall. “Good point.”

“I’m useful like that.” Zayne pulled down the last board, and it joined its friends against the wall. Stretching up, he leaned through the window. “All clear.”

I was happy to hear him speak, because I kept picturing something straight out of an ’80s horror movie. The kind Peanut loved to watch that involved a lot of bizarre decapitations.