Page 40 of Bones

“Sloan!” Her name bursts from me as a roar. I can’t see them anymore. I stop giving a shit, shoving my way through the panicked crowd. All that matters is getting my mate away from the enemy.

Sydney’s voice crackles through the ear piece. A high pitched screech has me ripping the tiny device from my ear in pain. Reaper is at my back, his massive hand digging into my shoulder as he yanks me towards the street.

“Where the fuck are they?” I demand, not caring if I’m not being respectful to my president. “Where’s my mate?!”

He’s got his phone pressed to his ear as we are forced to go with the crowd as emergency responders start herding us across the street.

We stop in the middle, the humans flowing around us like we’re immoveable boulders in a river. His eyes hold the promise of death and the temperature around us becomes a bitter chill.“They took them. The drone was taken out. We don’t have eyes on them.”

Fuckity. Fuckity. Fuck.

The darkness I’ve always buried inside of me, the darkness that once filled the void of my tattered soul before Sloan, rises without control. I don’t care that I’m surrounded by humans in broad daylight. Not even Reaper can stop me.

Shadows shoot up from the pavement around us, circling me violently like a tornado as my human form bleeds away and I erupt into my true, terrifying demonic form. The form in which I claimed Sloan as mine forever.

Screams fill the air around me as delicious terror floods my nose. I breathe in deep, seeking out the sweetest perfume buried in a kaleidoscope of city stenches.

There.

I throw my head back, bellowing. I send my shadows forward, the bone shards I always keep on me hidden within them like deadly missiles. Then I charge; a predator hunting down the ones who thought to touch my prey.

24

SLOAN

“Fucking coward! You get off on this, don’t you?!” Sydney spits out at the irritated Light Justicar whose shoulder she’s thrown over. “Think you’re some sort of big, tough man beating up women.”

I tell myself to fight back like Sydney has from the moment we were swarmed by Justicars. I will my legs to run, to kick, but it’s as if I’ve been disconnected from my body from the moment Paul sat down at the table. I thought I was strong enough to confront him. I thought I’d done enough work with Dr. Grayback that I could handle this.

I was so, so wrong.

The moment he showed up and hugged me, it’s like my mind unplugged itself. Thank god for Sydney, else we would never have made it through lunch. I could barely pick at the food in front of me, a meal I didn’t want but couldn’t override Paul when he overrode my order with the waitress. Always with that affectionate smile, like he actually has my best interest in mind.

How can Bones think that he’s anything like Paul?

Paul is the storm threatening to destroy my life. Bones is the mountain that steadies me.

I need him now, as I let Paul guide me to a plush, cream colored leather seat across from the two seat sofa the other Justicar just dumped Sydney into. I know that Bones is coming for me, that he won’t abandon me to these men. I need him, though. I need him because I’m not strong enough yet to not just withstand the storm, but fight my way out of it.

“Fucker!” Sydney snarls as the man tightens the belt over her lap. She’s got her hands tied behind her back, like me, and she lashes out with a kick. She might be dressed in a higher fashion style, but she refused to give up her black boots.

“Watch it, or I’ll duct tape your ankles,” the man--who can’t be any older than me--threatens.

Paul’s hand grips my shoulder, pushing me to sit. It’s clear from the gentle force that he doesn’t expect me to resist. I lock my knees, my heart leaping into my throat at my rebellion. His fingers tighten on my shoulder. It’s not much in the way of threats, but so far out of my comfort zone, it basically feels like I’m at gunpoint. I drop down into the seat across from an angry hellcat of a woman, nausea churning through me. I cling to the small ember that neither Paul or Xavius were able to extinguish. The part of me that Bones stoked into a fire once more.

“Sydney.” My friend doesn’t look at me, still glaring daggers at the men standing over us. “Sydney,” I call, a bit louder.

Her eyes snap to mine, her face still full of aggravation. I shake my head, a small gesture that must look meek to the man who’d threatened her because he growls.

“Better listen to your friend,” he practically spits out. “You don’t want to be treated like a wild animal? Start acting like a proper woman, then.”

I widen my eyes, pleading with her to not respond to his goading. Her nostrils are flared and I see her struggle against her argumentative nature. We can’t let the plane take off, but we can’t risk angering them so much they sedate us. Then we won’t be of any use getting out of here. More than anything that’s happened today, the thought of being sedated and waking up somewhere unknown terrifies me. It always meant awful things were to follow.

Whatever she sees in my look, she finally huffs and turns to give her shoulder to the justicar as she glares out the oval window.

He leaves but Paul’s hand is still on my shoulder. I turn to look up at him, meeting his brown eyes in another act of quiet defiance. Compared to Bones bronze flecked eyes, Paul’s eyes are a muddy brown that are utterly uninteresting.

His brows form the slightest furrow, like he knows I’m different but is still trying to figure out how.

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