Grave Mistakes (Hellgate Guardians #1)(34)
“I didn’t expect you to come back. Or to be covered in mud,” he says.
“I fell in the stupid fucking marsh.”
The corner of his mouth twitches, and I immediately raise a hand. “Don’t you fucking dare, Jerif,” I tell him. “I am not in the mood.”
Eyes glittering with amusement, he backs up and sweeps his arm out, indicating I should follow him into the room down the hall. I do and then pause when I realize all of the hot demons are gathered around a large dining room table, looking confused and concerned at my presence. Jerif’s big body was blocking them from view before, but as soon as I get an eyeful, nerves immediately begin to battle with my rage.
“Jeter, what the hell happened to you?” Crux asks me as he stands up, and the hint of judgment in his voice brings my anger back to the forefront.
“What happened to me?” I growl, repeating his question as I stand there in all of my disastrous glory. “I’ll tell you what fucking happened to me. I had no food! I holed up in my house like a hermit because I was so damn paranoid all week that you guys would jump me!” I shout, glaring murderously at them as mud drips off my hair. “I left my lights on all the time, so White Hair over there couldn’t Shadow sneak attack me,” I add, pointing toward Echo. “But you guys didn’t even show up, which you know what? Is a little insulting.”
Iceman rises to his feet from the head of the table, and even though he’s wearing a shirt this time, I can still see the outlines of his muscles and his dark blue hair is combed back from his horns. “Are you hurt? I think I smell blood beneath all the muck,” he says, his blue face screwing up into a frown.
“Yeah, I’m fucking hurt!” I snap, swiping some of the sludge away from my cracked lips. “I went to get ramen and then got attacked by demons on the way home!”
The four of them exchange a look as fury and fear makes up a really intense sphere of emotion that snowballs through me.
“Yeah. That’s right. Little green circus freaks who belong in Cirque du Soleil and should lay off the steroids. They attacked me in an alleyway, and I had to fucking sweep the goddamn demon leg!” I say somewhat hysterically as my voice raises to an octave I didn’t even know my vocal cords were capable of. “Oh, and Mrs. Lee was not the cute, adorable, elderly woman that I’ve come to know, and it’s your fault! Just like the fact that I fell into your stupid fucking marsh is your fault!” I shout, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I pant out part of my anger. My vision has curled with black spots and evil thoughts. “I am feeling very murdery right now.”
“Oh shit,” Echo mumbles, leaning forward on the table, his tattoos standing out against his pale skin.
“Oh shit is right. You assholes are in big fucking trouble. What the hell did you do to me?” I demand, placing my hands on my hips.
“Do to you?” Iceman asks.
“Yes,” I snap. “I never saw demons before you guys, and I sure as hell never got attacked by any.”
Echo’s contemplative stare turns delighted. “Did you slaughter them?” he asks excitedly, his black eyes sparkling like a starless night sky, and I know for sure his tattoos move this time.
His enthusiasm catches me off guard. “How the hell would I be able to kill twelve pickled-prick demons by myself?” I ask incredulously. “I barely got away. I had to drive my moped into the assholes and then run for my life,” I explain, pointing to the road rash on my face, arms, and hands that’s mixed with the mud. I even pull up my shirt and show off the cuts and bruises that are prevalent on my side.
“How did you manage to fall into the marsh?” Iceman asks, and I turn to glare at him next.
“Because you have some hidden steep embankments on part of your land!” I snap at him. “Put up a fucking warning sign, why don’t you!”
Iceman immediately shoots a hand up to cover his mouth, and I can tell by his shaking shoulders that he’s trying, and failing, to hide the fact that he’s fucking laughing at me. I stare at him incredulously. A couple more snickers fill the air as the others start to not so silently crack up at me too.
That’s fucking it!
I grab the first throwable thing in front of me, which just so happens to be a plate full of food. I pull the sandwich off the plate—because you don’t just throw away a perfectly good BLT—and then chuck the white china at the blue dude first. He ducks, so the plate shatters against the wall instead, which appeases me somewhat because the sound of it breaking is very satisfying. But that satisfaction loses its effect when Crux shouts, “Opa!” without missing a beat, and the demons break out into another giggle fest.
“I hate you guys,” I seethe, before yanking out the chair and sitting my muddy ass down.
I think this was Jerif’s seat, and this is his sandwich I’m still clutching in my dirt-encrusted hand, because I hear him make a little noise of disapproval as I start mowing down the BLT while the other assholes continue to yuck it up. I hope the mud sludge ruins the upholstery. I hope I also ruin the rug and that I can figure out how to fucking smite these four assholes. But before I can focus on a way to tap into potential demon qualities and kick their fine asses, my murderous, evil thoughts get dulled down by the taste of the food.
Damn, that’s a good sandwich.
I take another huge bite, not at all caring that I’m eating like a pig in front of them because my hunger is taking precedence over looking cute, and let’s be real, my cute ship sailed even before the sludge incident. After I manage to inhale the rest of the sandwich in record time, I wipe my mouth with the fancy cloth napkin and plop it back onto the table, with smears of mayonnaise and filth.