Page 61 of Demons In My Head: Exposing the Exiled
"You talk too fucking much," she spat at Asrael, her voice carrying across the suddenly silent platform.
"You?" he questioned, clearly having trouble coming to grips with the reality of what he was seeing.
I couldn't move. Couldn't think. Couldn't fucking breathe. She was here—actually fucking here—standing before us like some blood-soaked avenging angel. The scent of cherries hit me like a physical blow, confirming what my eyes were telling me. This wasn't a hallucination or wishful thinking. She was real.
"Holy shit snacks!" Talon shrieked, his voice cracking with excitement. "It's our little bunny! She just fucking shanked Asrael! Did you all see that? Tell me you saw that!"
Misha grunted, which for him was practically a standing ovation. Felix just stood there blinking like a deer in headlights.
The only one who didn't seem surprised was Rhodes, that calculating fucker. His expression remained impassive, but there was a knowing glint in his eyes that told me everything I needed to know. He'd sensed her presence long before the rest of us. Fucking master tracker over here.
"You knew," I accused, my voice rough with emotion I refused to name.
Rhodes lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug. "I did," he confessed smoothly. "I didn't want to distract you from the task at hand."
Asrael staggered backward, his clawed hands clutching at the gaping wound in his chest. Black liquid oozed between his fingers, sizzling as it hit the platform. "This... changes... nothing," he rasped, his voice distorted and gurgling. "You think... a mere blade... can kill me?"
Palmer stepped forward, undaunted by the monster before her. "Not one blade, no," she said, her tone eerily calm as she raised a brow at us, an invitation.
Felix tilted his head back and released a howl that bounced around every wall and corner of that fucking castle. One by one, we joined in.
"No!" Asrael screamed when Palmer let out her own howl.
"FOR JASPER!" Rhodes bellowed, leading the surge.
We descended on him like a pack of wolves, joined by the Emerald Lakes crew and Khol. Asrael's screams of fury and disbelief would live in my head for the rest of my life. We'd beaten him. When his knees hit that wooden, blood-soaked platform, everyone pulled back. Misha picked up the massive executioner's axe and, with perfect precision, swung that axe, slicing clean through Asrael's neck. Breathing heavily, he bent down and plucked the severed head up and raised it over his head with a roar.
Cheers and cries of joy erupted through the courtyard. Asrael's face reverted back to normal right before Misha tossed it over his shoulder.
My heart was pounding so hard I was certain everyone could hear it. Pride and something dangerously close to love surged through me as I watched Palmer wipe a solitary tear from her cheek with the biggest smile on her face that I'd ever seen.
But she left you. She lied.
The voices in my head didn't let the moment live for long. The hurt and anger flared, my nervous system doing what it felt necessary to protect me from further pain. There were questions that needed answering, and the weight of them settled over me like a black storm cloud as shouts of support started going up for the new leaders.
"Long live the queen!"
"Long live King Bram!"
“Grab her,” I rasped out to Rhodes before turning and jumping off the platform.
I was going to get my fucking answers.
“Ace!”
Gods damnit! The growl exploded from my chest before I could stop it, and I spun back around, coming face to face with Khol. My father. I didn’t even give him a chance to talk.
“I’m in the middle of something. Now is not the time.”
My brothers slowly walked past me, giving me different variations of concerned looks. Palmer struggled in Rhodes’ grip like a trapped animal, and I supposed that was pretty accurate.
“I just want to talk, okay? That’s it.” My father held his hands up in surrender, and my eyes narrowed.
I flicked my eyes to Rhodes’. “Wait for me over there. I won’t be long.” Rhodes nodded along with the others, and they disappeared around the corner, giving me privacy.
Crossing my arms, I stared at the man who had raised me.
"I'd fucking kill for a cigarette right now," I muttered, eyes scanning my father's face. Khol the Cold. Legendary demon warrior. Ruthless killer. My so-called dad.
