Page 60 of Not Today, Satan
I scan the snow, my hand tightening on my blade as I hold my breath in anticipation at the appearance of Ferus—or worse, my father.
“I don’t think that’s our biggest problem right now,” Nate mumbles. “Look.”
I follow his gaze over my shoulder, where another cluster of shadelings staggers from their lot, calling out gibberish as they spy us. They’ll have us surrounded in seconds. Between us, we have one sword, a dagger wielded by a boy who can barely keep his teeth from chattering, and my fire that hasn’t fully charged yet. Not exactly a plethora of weaponry against the descending army.
“Run, Nate. Head for the castle.”
I charge through the snow without pausing to make sure he’s behind me. The snow’s not deep, but my icy clothing weighs me down. Reaching for the hem of my dress, I tug it from my legs, and it releases from my skin with a crack.
I’m halfway to the castle when my foot catches on a chunk of ice. Pain shoots through my leg as I stumble to the ground with a cry. Snow fills my nose and mouth, suffocating me. I cough and sputter as I wipe it off my face.
“Devica!” Nate drops to my side. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” I spit out a chunk of snow, then place a hand on his shoulder and pull myself up. Searing pain blasts up my calf the moment I put weight on my foot, and I scream and lean into him. “My ankle. I think I twisted it. Just give me a minute, I’ll be fine.”
“We don’t have a minute,” Nate says. “They’re pretty fast for being cryogenic.”
As if on cue, a hand missing two fingers clamps onto my shoulder, and I shriek as the icy appendage pricks my skin. Nate rips the sword out of my belt and strikes. The shadeling’s head tumbles off and sinks into the snow, wide eyes still blinking.
I gape at him. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”
“Holy crap.” Nate studies the blade. “This is sharper than I thought. I was aiming to wound them, not decapitate them. They’ll be okay, right?”
“They’ll be fine.” The shadelings creep closer, reaching for us with rotting flesh. I grit my teeth. “But we won’t be if we don’t get inside and block them off.”
He glances at my foot. “Can you walk?”
“Of course.” I take a step, but my ankle shrieks and I tumble forward. Nate’s grip tightens, saving me from eating another faceful of snow. I mash my jaw and bite back a scream of frustration. “I’ll just hop.”
“Then they’ll catch you for sure.” Nate slips the sword back into my belt. “I know you said you’d throw me into the Igloo River for this, but I’m gonna take my chances.” He scoops me out of the snow and clutches me in front of him the way humans cradle their young.
My ankle burns with the movement, and I open my mouth to tell him off, but the pain eases once I’ve settled in his arms.
I loop my arms around his neck and speak into his chest, “You tell anyone about this, and Iwillthrow you into the Ignis River, got it?”
“Got it.”
Nate rushes through the snow, his jaw tight as he navigates around a chunk of ice. His grip is secure, and he doesn’t shake with the effort of lugging me through the snow. I allow myself to sink deeper into his arms and bury my face in his neck as the storm picks up and lashes our bodies.
We’re trailed by the sounds of chattering teeth and cracking bones, and I wince. I don’t need to see them to feel their pain. It pulses as strongly as my ankle. Stupid human side of me making mefeel.
Nate grunts with every step, his gaze on the castle, blinking against the snow.
This is the most vulnerable I’ve been with a human. Even more than having him dig glass out of my back. At any point, he could realize I’m the liability here and toss me away. If he took my sword and was fast enough, he could be out of Nix before my ankle’s healed. And that’s assuming I’m able to fight off the shadelings clamoring behind us.
But he doesn’t drop me. Instead, he pulls me closer to his chest, shielding me from the wind and the snowballs the shadelings are hurling in our direction.
I don’t need his protection. We both know that. But warmth blooms in my chest at the realization that I don’t mind having it.
We reach the door, Nate panting in short, white bursts. I peek over his shoulder as a snowball explodes against the wall beside my head. The shadelings are only a few feet away, and they’ve armed themselves not only with snow, but with jagged chunks of ice.
“Nate, hurry.” My voice comes out a breathless whisper, even though he was the one running. “Open the door.”
He shifts me in his arms, and I press my lips together as pain rips up my leg. Then he reaches for the door handle and pulls. It doesn’t budge. He takes a deep breath and pushes this time, grunting and gritting his teeth. Nothing.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a key, would you? It’s locked.”
I swallow a lungful of freezing air and scowl. “That’d be a hard no. I’m guessing Father has the only one.”
