Personal Demon (Otherworld 8) - Page 152

I cracked open my eyes. Paige had her back to the far wall, pressed against it, Jaz holding her forearms, but standing far enough away not to spook her.

She'd gone still. Lulling him before she cast a spell? I thought about getting her attention, but if she looked my way, so would Jaz. Better for him to forget I was here...

I measured the distance to him. Could he see me from this angle? I wasn't sure. I couldn't risk it.

I needed to move fast and bring him down so Paige could cast her binding spell. As I drew my legs in, preparing to spring, Jaz crouched, pulling Paige lower until she was sitting on the floor.

"Okay, now you wait here. I'm going to check on Hope."

I half closed my eyes. He started to turn. I quickly caught Paige's attention and mouthed "cast!" Her brow furrowed.

Cast. Cast, damn you! Why aren't you--?

He moved again and I shut my eyes, then cracked them open. He had his back to me. His hand was under his jacket. I saw that, and I knew.

I flew to my feet and ran at him. I saw the gun. An explosion of terror, almost knocking me off my feet. Beautiful terror. Sweet and pure chaos. So perfect...

He raised the gun.

No!

I clamped down on my lip and the burst of pain wrenched my thoughts free. I threw myself at Jaz. I hit him. The gun fired. And then, as we hit the floor, I felt it. A second chaos blast, this one so strong I blacked out.

The waves rocked me and that was all I could think about, all I could feel. And that was okay, because as long as I felt them everything was fine. Everything was--

The waves began to ebb. No! I clung to them, holding tight, but they were slipping away now, gentler, rolling over me, the edge of terror and pain gone, only the blissful aftermath remaining.

I lifted my head. Struggled to focus. Everything in me pleaded with me to relax, just lie back and enjoy it. Don't spoil--

I saw Paige. Crumpled against the wall. Her pretty face twisted with horror. A bullet hole through her forehead.

I screamed. As the sound ripped from my throat, it changed into a roar, the chaos bliss hardening into something that filled me, burned me, seared my eyes, my brain, my gut. Through the blaze, I saw Jaz. Only Jaz. On his feet. Coming toward me.

I lunged at him, kicking, clawing, screaming in a voice I didn't recognize as human. I smelled blood. I felt its heat. I tasted its sweetness.

Something jabbed my arm. The prick of pain only spurred me on, but Jaz had wrenched from my grasp. I wheeled. Through the blood haze, I spotted his dark form, and I tried to launch myself at him, but I just kept turning. Turning. Turning. My knees gave way and I spiraled to the ground.

The last thing I saw was Paige's dead eyes, staring at me.

HOPE

CRASH AND BURN

Twice before, I'd watched my life crash and burn.

The first time had been my last year of high school. In the midst of SATs, training for a regatta and struggling through the first serious fight with my high school sweetheart, I'd started seeing visions. Convinced it was stress, I'd been furious with myself for showing such weakness and determined to "fix" myself before anyone found out and shipped me off to therapy. I'd fought it so hard that I had a breakdown, I lost it all--the SATs, the regatta, my boyfriend--and spent my prom night in a private mental hospital.

It took years to recover from that, but I did. I learned what I was. I established contacts in the supernatural world. I graduated from college. I found the "council" and got my job with True News. From debutante to tabloid-reporting, gun-toting, chaos demon spy girl. Not exactly what my mother had in mind, but I'd been

pleased with myself. It was like going to bed an ordinary girl and waking up a superhero.

More like super-chump. I'd discovered that my new life was built on a lie. I wasn't protecting the innocent; I was delivering them to the Cortez Cabal. My self-confidence took a beating that it still hadn't recovered from. But with Karl's help I'd bounced back and became exactly what I thought I'd been before--a council operative.

Now, with a single bullet, my world had shattered again. This time it wouldn't heal.

Paige had believed me. I said I'd needed her help and she'd taken me at my word. How many times had I heard the council tease Paige about her impetuousness? They told stories of her running headlong into danger, mind fixed on a soul that needed saving. But such tales were rooted in the past, and even Paige laughed at them. She was older now. More experienced. More cautious.

Yet hadn't I seen the worry in Lucas's eyes when she set out on a dangerous assignment? I'd always told myself he was just concerned for his wife. Now I realized that Paige was, at heart, the same person she'd always been, one who'd throw herself into a bullet's path to save a friend.

Tags: Kelley Armstrong Otherworld Fantasy
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