Grave Mistakes (Hellgate Guardians #1)(47)
I give up on trying to fall asleep, and get out of bed with a sigh. If tonight is like every other night, I’ll finally crash from exhaustion around eight in the morning. This new schedule is seriously going to fuck with my potential job prospects, but it’s not like there’s much sliding into my emails at the moment. Besides, there’s that little caveat of me still being afraid to leave the house. I don’t think Iceman has been able to find out much about blocking me so I can’t see demons anymore, because I haven’t heard anything. Not that any of them are really talking to me much.
I pull back a curtain panel and look out the window into the streetlight lit night. I can’t help but wonder which one of the demons is out there tonight. I’ve only caught a hint of them once in a while. Everyone except for Crux stays outside though, and they tend to disappear as soon as I lay eyes on them.
It’s a weird feeling, knowing that someone is out there watching me, but not being able to see them. I find it unnerving, even though I know the guys won’t hurt me or allow me to be hurt. If I’ve paid attention to their shifts correctly, then it should be Crux’s turn to watch me tonight. He’s the only one that will still openly talk to me. Even so, it’s just a generic how are you or what’s new, but that’s something at least.
Last time he was on watch, he knocked on the door and helped himself to my couch and TV for an hour. We didn’t chat much, but I was grateful for the company anyway. I was kind of hoping it would become a thing. I’ve realized lately how much I don’t love being alone, but the fact that he hasn’t come in tonight makes me even more anxious than before. He’s probably sick and tired of babysitting me too.
I let the curtain fall back and then head to my closet, ignoring the paint cans and brushes on the floor as I snatch a jacket from a hanger. Shrugging it on, I step into a pair of slippers before heading out and going into the living room. I left the lights on again, which I know is going to really suck for my electric bill, but I’m already in default and dangerously close to being disconnected anyway, so I might as well suck it dry while I can.
Going to the front door, I undo the chain and the deadbolt and wrench it open before stepping out into the night. The air is misty and cold, biting through the sleeves of my jacket and sinking into my leggings. I walk down the path a few footsteps while looking around, hoping that Crux will show himself, but he doesn’t.
“Crux?” My voice sounds way too loud on the dead street, the darkness somehow making my voice reverberate even louder.
The haze of the streetlight across the road looks like an orange halo through the mist, offering the only light available to my eyes. I scan the shadows, but I don’t see the surfer demon anywhere. The back of my neck prickles, and chills sweep over my body at the inkling intuition that’s crawling over me like insects.
I’m being watched.
Holding the front of my jacket closed, I back away from my weed-ridden front lawn that’s speckled with dewdrops, the soles of my slippers scraping against the cement. I’m breathing fast but stilted, my inhales getting stuck in my chest with a rattle of unease.
Just as I make it to the threshold of my door, I hear a noise like something heavy slamming against pavement. My heart leaps into my throat, and the noise is so loud I almost feel the impact vibrating through the ground.
Cursing at my own stupidity for coming out here, I whirl around and grab my doorknob, but the damn door is stuck. The wood swells when there’s humidity, and the fact that my palms are slick with sweat isn’t helping me to grip and turn the knob properly.
Hurried footsteps sound behind me, and my heart goes into overdrive. I’m so gripped with fear that I’m shaking all over. I risk a glance over my shoulder, spotting a silhouette heading right toward me from the street. Terror takes over.
With all my might, I heave my shoulder into the door, once, twice, three times, and when I can feel the ominous presence behind me, I give the door one last shove with all my strength, and the swollen wood finally scrapes open, sending me hurtling forward.
I fall inside, barely catching myself on the doorknob, and then spin around and shove the door shut as fast as I can, but I’m too late.
A black boot slams between the door and the frame, immediately halting my movement. The body pushes the door open, and even though I do my best to keep it closed, I don’t stand a chance. A scream climbs out of my throat as the door is shoved open the rest of the way, but then a dark hand is covering my mouth and another arm bands around me, keeping me from falling back. I have to blink several times to realize that the person staring down at me isn’t a demon attacking me, but Jerif.
My eyes widen for a split second before I shove away from him. “You fucking asshole!” I yell, seething.
“Quiet,” he snaps impatiently, like this is my fault.
He turns and closes the front door, locking it before pressing his hand against the wood. He murmurs a few unintelligible words, and a faint red glow emits from his fingers, like the way your skin looks when you hold a flashlight against it.
“What are you doing?” I demand.
“Adding another ward to your house,” he says before dropping his hand.
“You fucking scared me to death,” I hiss. “You could’ve just told me it was you. I thought I was about to be murdered!”
He turns on his heel, his lava-red hair swept back, the orange and yellow highlights looking warm despite the cold hate that seems to have settled in my house. “I had to be quiet,” he grits out, looking down at me with anger radiating in his fiery eyes.