He narrowed his violet eyes at Logan, his voice lethal. “Now drop your sword.”
The image of Logan tortured and burned—to save my life—ignited a spark of rage. And with it, another memory slowly bubbled to the surface, breaking through the final mental barriers that Della had built.
I focused on the rage, letting it fuel the fire as it built inside of me. I let the burn flash over my skin, the demon flames racing over my body as Della screamed in pain, dropping the knife to the floor.
I whipped my head back, the crown of my skull smashing into Della’s nose with an audible crunch. She clutched her nose and stumbled backward, knocking over a stool as puffs of ruby smoke billowed down her flame-pinked face. Della launched herself at me, shoving me backward with powdery red hands, and I slammed against the blackboard, sending bits of chalk to the floor, where they shattered with loud pops. I reached for my sword, weakly and wildly swiping it through the air between Della and me. She grabbed the nearest sheet music pedestal and held it up like a shield as I desperately swatted at her with wobbly, ineffective strikes, the little strength I had waning the more the portal expanded.
The jangled clang of metal striking metal echoed in the classroom, as Logan swung his sword at Aiden. The demon held his spikes in an X-formation, protecting himself as Logan relentlessly attacked, his sword a mere blur as Aiden deflected Logan’s unyielding strikes, the clashing metal sending a light dusting of blue sparks scattering across the floor.
“Dellica, let’s go!” Aiden ordered, his once-confident voice now laced with panic. She blindly threw the pedestal she had been cowering behind at me, and it missed me by a few feet and smashed against the wall, splintering into pieces. Della ducked behind Aiden as he shuffled backward under Logan’s assault until they were standing in front of the oval-shaped portal, which whirled and hummed with energy. Through it, a foggy version of the classroom appeared—with mottled gray walls instead of beige, where fat, buglike red creatures skittered across the surface. Della’s long hair blew backward, and a stack of sheet music swirled in the wind toward the hole—all being sucked in by the gateway’s vacuumlike force.
Aiden grunted, stumbling as he blocked a side blow, and Logan moved too quickly for Aiden to recover his defensive pose. Logan swung his sword upward as his deft fingers flipped the handle, forcing the blade to point down. Logan charged forward, plunging the sword down as Della grabbed the back of Aiden’s shirt. She yanked Aiden roughly, and he fell backward against Della—and Logan impaled the demon through his right shoulder instead of his heart.
The sword’s length ran through Aiden—stabbing Della in the stomach. Inhuman howls of agony echoed in the classroom as the blade turned black, then a shimmery pearlized pink rippling color. Della unleashed a guttural wail, her flawless face twisted in agony.
A dark stain began to spread from where the sword was embedded in Aiden’s chest, a deep purple color that was oddly pretty—considering it was the hue of demon blood. Aiden wailed again, his face morphing into something otherworldly. His eyebrows became more arched—slick black peaks over luminous violet eyes that seemed to glow in a graying face. His shoulders heaved with suffering as large wings sprouted behind him, diaphanous gray tissue and tendons stretched between shiny black bones that ripped through his white shirt, which fell off his body in tatters. His spikes crumbled in a row of sparks, revealing oversize gnarled gray claws—and Logan braced his foot against Aiden’s stomach, simultaneously pulling his sword out of the wound and kicking the demon back a few feet, where he stumbled over Della. She shuddered as she clutched her hands to her stomach, where crimson puffs of smoke seeped between her dusty red fingers.
Logan raised his sword again as Aiden reached into his pants pocket with trembling fingers and pulled out an oversize gold coin.
“Kill me or save her, proditori?” Aiden grunted, flinging the shimmering circle at me like he was tossing a Frisbee. I ducked as Logan ran toward me, grabbing me around the waist and knocking me onto the ground, just as whipping spines emerged from the spinning disk. Logan crouched above me as the thrashing razorlike spikes effortlessly sliced apart the chalkboard above us, sending jagged shards of black slate and splinters of wood and chunks of plaster raining down on Logan’s back.
“I will watch you die,” Aiden vowed, his flippant voice layered with a deep, unsettling growl.
“You won’t touch her again,” Logan shouted as Aiden slid his hands underneath Della’s arms, dragging her backward as they both got sucked into the fractured portal in the center of the classroom. A rush of wind spun around the classroom, sweeping sheet music, instruments and wooden stools into the rapidly shrinking gateway. Logan grabbed me around the waist with one hand, shielding me with his body. Items smashed into each other in the vortex, scattering debris around the room as objects fought for a place in the diminishing doorway to another world.
Guitars collided with cymbals and horns, creating a discordant, off-key cacophony. The portal continued to shrink, spinning in tight, rapid revolutions, as the wind whipped my hair around and blew the cap off Logan’s head. Black spots dotted my vision; my consciousness began to slip away. I felt myself slumping in Logan’s arms, and he pulled me against him, protecting me from the shattered, broken things taking flight in the wind whirling around the room.
“Stay awake. Stay with me, please,” he begged, his hands clutching the back of my sweater as I tried to keep the heavy blackness at bay. With a flash of light and the grating sound of tearing metal, the portal snapped shut, leaving scraps of shredded paper fluttering to the ground around us like confetti.
I buried my face in Logan’s neck as he held me, supporting me as I panted for air. My uneven, shallow breathing steadied as the strength slowly trickled back into my muscles. When my breathing had resumed a somewhat normal—if a little shaky—pace, Logan rested my back against the wall underneath the shattered chalkboard, hovering over me as his hand gently skimmed my cheek.
“Where else are you hurt?” Logan’s voice was frantic but his touch featherlight as he crouched on one knee in front of me, his fingers skimming over my slashed cheek before tilting my chin up to inspect where the blade had bitten into my throat. I flinched when the pads of his fingertips gingerly traced the raw skin.
“I’m okay. It’s no big deal,” I croaked. I attempted to push myself up into a standing position as a sharp pain shot up my forearm from where Aiden had twisted my wrist.
“Will Rego’s ointment work on sprains, too? I still have some at— Whoa.” I fell back onto my rear as I was overcome with a woozy head rush. Logan grabbed me around the waist, his other hand cushioning my head before I whacked it on the wall.
I frowned, letting my hands drop uselessly into my lap. “I feel so weak. Why do I still feel so weak?”
Logan placed his hands on my shoulders, gently pushing me down as I tried to get up again, and gave me a reproachful look. “Just rest for a second, please. A demon just used you to open a portal to another dimension and sucked all the strength out of you to do it. Please, Paige, take five stupid minutes to sit down and recharge.”
“But we have to get out of here. What if someone comes?” I asked, studying the disheveled classroom.
“It’s lunchtime. Everyone’s in the caf in the basement. Besides, this floor is off-limits and this room is soundproof,” he reminded me, adding gently, “We’ve got to leave across the roof again, and you’re not strong enough to go anywhere yet.”
“But—”
“But nothing. I’m begging you, just relax. I’ve got you.”
I sighed, letting my head fall against the wall as Logan pulled out his sword, lifting up his sweater to slice off a chunk of his shirt. He snaked one arm behind me as he settled against my side, his hand finding a place at the small of my back. He gently pressed the cloth against my cheek, wiping away the blood. I tried not to wince in pain.
“Am I hurting you?” he asked, remorseful.
“I’m okay,” I promised, but I flinched as he touched my cheek again.
“Don’t worry. Rego can fix this. You’d never even know Della touched you,” he said, his gentle touch somehow softening the hard edge in his voice.
“She’s dead now, right?” I asked hopefully. My cheek muscle twitched, and I squeezed my eyes shut when I felt the skin tug against the gash.
“I doubt she’ll make it to a healer in time. That is, if the trip through the portal doesn’t finish her off first.”
“Good.” I felt my shoulders relax at that, and I took a deep breath, wincing when I felt a sharp pain shoot through my aching side.
“I’m hurting you, aren’t I?” Logan asked, quickly pulling the now-bloody cloth from my face and setting it down on his knee.
“No—it’s my side. I guess Aiden kicked me harder than I realized.” Now that I was focusing on the pain, my ribs throbbed, eclipsing the pain in my shoulder from when I fell down the stairs. I pressed my palm against my side, prodding my ribs and feeling the familiar pain that I’d endured after saving Dylan’s life.
Logan scowled, biting his lip as he studied the bloody cloth in his hand. I could practically hear Logan beating himself up. And I’d seen him in battle—so I assumed Logan was delivering himself one hell of an ass-kicking.
“I’m so sorry,” he said quietly, his eyes downcast. “I’m supposed to be protecting you, and this is twice now that you’ve gotten injured. I can’t believe I didn’t—”
“Stop it. Your insistence on blaming yourself is taking valuable time away from me thanking you for saving my life,” I interrupted before he could start cruising down Self-Critical Highway. Clearly, it was a road he knew well.
“And, hey, you’re the one who taught me the whole head-butting trick. So, high-five yourself or something, because that really worked.”
Logan smiled, shaking his head as strands of hair fell into his eyes. Now that his hat had found a new home in another dimension, his dark brown locks were a riotous tangle on top of his head. I automatically reached my fingers up to brush his hair out of his face, awkwardly pausing when he blinked in surprise at my gesture. I quickly ran my hand through my own disheveled hair as if that was my intention all along, and Logan’s cheeks flushed slightly. You’re about as smooth as sandpaper, Paige.
I chastised myself for nearly crossing the line—a line that got thinner with every minute I spent with Logan. At least my battles with demons were over...and just in time, because the unreadable expression on Logan’s face, as he gazed at me with soft brown eyes, made it very easy to forget that the sweet boy holding me would be leaving, now that Della and Aiden were gone.
The realization slammed into me, and I shut my eyes, feeling my shoulders hunch forward, bracing myself against the loss as a dull ache echoed in my chest. This hurt more than it should.
“How bad is it?” Logan’s voice was layered with concern.
“Pretty bad. I, um...I’m annoyed at myself for getting so hurt. I thought I was stronger than this,” I admitted, screwing my eyes shut more tightly when I realized there were two ways to interpret what I’d just said. “I’m just really sore,” I added, hoping to mask my slip-up. But who was I kidding? That line between friendship and...something more...had pretty much evaporated, at least for me.
If Logan grasped my double meaning, he didn’t let it show.
“Seriously, you’re annoyed at yourself?” he repeated, incredulous. “You fought two demons. Hell, you gave one third-degree burns and then broke her nose. You did awesome.”
“I guess that means you’re an excellent teacher. So, stop sulking, you big sulky sulker, you.”
“Okay, but only because you asked so nicely,” he replied playfully. I opened my eyes to see that Logan was grinning at me, all traces of his earlier remorse gone. I had to return his infectious smile, and he slid his hand up my back, over my bare neck and into my hair. My skin tingled in the wake of his touch, and I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning as his fingers massaged my scalp. Damn you, Logan, and your stupid magic sexy fingers.
“How’s your head, by the way?” he asked, that impish smile still on his face.
Uh, full of unrealistic thoughts about you, now that the threat of demons kidnapping me is over. Thanks for asking.
I smiled ruefully, pulling my knees up to my chest. “It hurts. But then again, everything hurts.” You have no idea how much this hurts. “Maybe next time I’ll try to use a weapon and not my own actual body when I want to injure someone.”
“Good idea.” He paused, then said in a low, breathy voice, “I was so worried, Paige. I’m glad you’re still here with me.”
Logan’s fingers untangled from my hair, his hand sliding down my back as he rested his other hand on my knee. His gaze dropped down to my lips briefly before his eyes met mine again, and he leaned in closer to me. Too close for someone who was going to leave. Way too close for someone who had just run a sword through two demons—one of which was Della. I wanted him to kiss me, but not like this. Not because of her. And the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.
“Are you being touchy-feely with me because you just killed a lust demon?”
Logan dropped his hold on me and shot back about a foot, his mouth open in disbelief. And horror. Lots and lots of horror.
“I just mean...you’re being really affectionate...and you had said that when you kill a demon, you get their powers...and maybe you’re feeling really lust demon-y right now.” The words tumbled out, colliding with each other like rocks in an avalanche. Except an avalanche would have been much more subtle.
“So, I’m overwhelmed by lusty feelings, and you just happen to be conveniently injured and unable to fight me off?” Logan said slowly, his tone matter-of-fact and almost clinical. “Is that what you think of me?”
“No! I don’t think that at all! I just didn’t expect it—you being like that. With me, I mean,” I stammered. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Apparently, I’m the one who offended you. Don’t worry, I won’t touch you like that again since it’s so offensive.” Hurt flashed across his face as Logan spoke in an icy voice, over-enunciating the word.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sor—”
“Don’t apologize. I’m—I’m the one who should be sorry.” Logan’s shoulders sagged as he rubbed his face roughly with his palms. He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head before speaking again, throwing his hand in the air.
“I overstepped a boundary, and now you think I’m trying to feel you up while you’re in a weakened state.”
“But that’s not what I meant at all.” The truth was, I really wanted him to overstep all sorts of boundaries. But instead, I’d made him think I considered him a pervert. Smooth, Paige. You should have just gone for it and worried about what it meant later.
“Honestly, I wasn’t—” I began.
“Please, just drop it,” he interrupted, suddenly sounding weary. “I promise you, it won’t happen again.” He leaned his back against the wall, his arms resting on his drawn-up knees. I stole a glance at Logan’s profile—his jaw was set in a hard line, his head slightly tilting from side to side as his eyes alternately narrowed and looked up, the way mine did when I was running through possible outcomes of conversations in my head.
I opened my mouth to try apologizing again, but the tense set of his jaw had me rethinking that approach, and I shifted uncomfortably next to him on the floor.
“So, where are you going next?” I blurted out, unable to handle any more awkward silence. Logan turned his head toward mine, a puzzled look on his face.
“We are going to see Rego when you’re feeling better.”
“After that.”
“How hard did you hit Della with your head?
What are you talking about?” Logan’s tone was still frosty as he studied me. A glacier would have been positively tropical compared to this. Not that I could blame him. He’d saved my life—twice—and now thought I’d accused him of trying to play grab-ass while I was incapacitated.
“Do you know what your next assignment is? Almost all of the demons are dead, and Aiden’s back in the Dark World. Your job here is done. You’re leaving,” I concluded, rubbing my side to pretend that the pained look on my face came from actual pain and not from Logan’s impending departure. Just remember that you’re going to live. The demons are gone, Paige. His leaving is actually a good thing. No, really. Keep telling yourself that, and maybe you’ll believe it.
“I’m not leaving yet,” Logan said, his eyes wide as he turned to face me. “What just happened is really bad. Aiden knows that you can be used to open portals between worlds. Well, at least from this one to the Dark World. And I’m sure he’s on his way to tell all his little demon buddies.” Logan scowled at that.
I stared at the shredded paper strewn around the classroom, which was cluttered with overturned stools, sheet-music holders and broken-up corkboards. I’d thought it was over. I thought the threat to my life was gone.
Instead, it was worse—far worse than I could have imagined. And, of course, I’d insulted the one person who had done nothing but protect me.
Yet again, I’d managed to just make a mess. Story of my life.
I was desperate to make things right between us, but a stolen glance at Logan told me he still wouldn’t be receptive to another attempted apology. I decided to change the subject instead.
“How did you find me, in the music room of all places?”
“I figured they couldn’t go far,” Logan said, lifting one shoulder in a casual shrug. “Della was pretty bloody. She’d attract too much attention.”
“Yeah, she was really mad about her face, by the way. I don’t remember a lot from when I was under her spell, but I remember that.”