Embraced (The Eternal Balance #2)(27)
I shifted, this time rolling onto my back. The clock cast a faint glow on the ceiling. It was reflected on the television, the light playing off the bare bulb in the ceiling overhead. But there was something else. A faint rustling sound coming from just beyond the door.
I threw off the covers and, sliding out of bed as quietly as possible, crept across the carpet and put my ear to the door. The sound was almost like an animal scratching against the wood.
“What the hell?” Jax groaned from underneath the covers. The light beside his bed flickered to life. He shifted around, peering at me through the dim light with groggy annoyance.
“I dunno,” I said, pushing away from the door. “I thought I heard something.”
He shoved off the covers with a grunt and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The floorboards groaned as he padded barefoot across the room and stopped beside me. “Like what?”
I put my ear to the door again. Everything was quiet. Maybe I was losing my mind. “Nothing. I was probably dreaming.”
Without a word, he started back across the room. But he only got halfway to the bed when a knock stopped him. Quirking a brow, he turned and tilted his head. “Expecting someone?”
“Yeah.” I dove for my jeans and tugged them on. “I ordered a stripper.”
With a roll of his eyes and a finger to his lips, he backed toward the door. There was no peep hole, so he moved the curtains aside a fraction of an inch. “Looks human,” he said with a snort. “Then again, who the hell knows?”
“So, harmless?”
He turned to me, a spark of mischief in his eyes. A rush of warmth rippled through me. “You’re human and you’re far from harmless.”
I flipped him off and nodded to the door. “Safe to answer—”
The guy on the other side of the door began to pound.
I crept a little closer. The door rattled and shook. “Someone wants in real bad.”
Jax moved between me and the door, holding his hand high in an attempt keep me back. “What the hell does he want? It’s after three a.m.”
“Open the door and find out. He’s human, right? The manager maybe? What could he possibly do?”
The man decided to answer my question personally. The door blew open in a hail of wooden splinters and the guy walked in, eyes glowing a fiery orange and an axe in his hand.
Jax looked from him to me and shrugged. “Depends on how you feel about the axe.”
Our new guest let out a hair-curling sound—a cross between a howl and a yell—and swung his weapon. The blade imbedded itself in the dresser by the door. It was deep, wedged solidly in the wood. There should have been no way for him to pull it free so easily. But he did. Like pulling a loose thread on the end of a shirt, he lifted the axe from the wood and swung it again. This time, it passed so close to Jax that his hair fluttered.
He jumped back, hand up to block the next attack.
“What’s wrong with his eyes?” I screamed, stumbling back as Jax nearly knocked me over in his attempt to avoid the blade.
“Wicked contacts?” he called, dodging another blow. The man roared and dropped the axe, launching himself forward. He collided with Jax, sending them both clear across the room. He hammered a series of blows to his head, followed by another to the throat—Jax sputtered and coughed, gasping for air.
If he was human, the guy had been sucking down otherworldly steroids. Except… I thought back to the angel in the alley, to the way her eyes blazed like fire. “Jax!” I made my way around the room, trying to steer clear of the chaos. “Don’t hurt him.”
“Don’t hurt—” The man hit him again, knocking Jax to the ground. “Are you insane?” he yelled. “He just swung an axe at me!”
Our minions are everywhere.
“His eyes,” I called as the man whirled on me. His blank expression was as disturbing as any demonic scowl I’d ever come face-to-face with. “The color. Something the angel in the alley said. I think the angel is controlling him.”
“The angel is dead,” Jax yelled. He swung at the man, and I couldn’t help gasping when his hand came up, catching Jax’s fist like he was swatting a fly. Before I could blink, he lashed out with his other hand, the blow connecting with the side of Jax’s head. He went down hard.
“You must come with me.” His voice rang with an eerie echo. He whirled away from Jax and grabbed my arm. I tried to pull away, but his grip was like iron—and just as cold.
He turned and started toward the door, dragging me along. I glanced over my shoulder. Jax was on the floor where he’d fallen. He wasn’t moving. The air turned frigid. He was okay. Just knocked out. I’d know if it was more than that. We were linked, right?
Out the door and into the darkness—the guy didn’t stop. I fought, but it was as pointless as trying to light a match in a tornado. We passed rows of doors, all silent and dark, and waltzed right past the manager’s desk. “Hey,” I screamed. “Do something. This guy won’t let go of me!”
The guy behind the counter, a tall, thin man with horn rim glasses and a roman nose, came bounding out the door. He looked from the man to me, brows furrowed. “Everything okay here?”
“No,” I screamed. Did anything about this situation look normal? “Not okay. Help me out here!”