ONE KISS COULD BE THE LAST

Seventeen-year-old Layla just wants to be normal—fit in at school, and go out on a real date with the gorgeous Zayne, whom she’s crushed on since forever. Trouble is, Zayne treats Layla like a sister—and Layla is anything but normal. She’s half demon, half gargoyle, with abilities no one else possesses. And even though Zayne is a Warden, part of the race of gargoyles tasked with hunting demons and keeping humanity safe, Layla’s kiss will kill anything with a soul—including him.

Then she meets Roth—a tattooed, sinfully hot demon who claims to know her secrets. Though Layla knows she should stay away, it’s tough when that whole no-kissing thing isn’t an issue. Trusting Roth could ruin her chances with Zayne—and brand her a traitor to the Warden family that raised her. But as Layla discovers she’s the sole reason for a violent demon uprising, kissing the enemy suddenly pales in comparison to the looming end of the world.

He couldn’t be here.

But he was, and I couldn’t look away. Suddenly I wished I could sketch, because my fingers itched to draw the lines of his face, to try to capture the exact slant of the bottom lip that was fuller than the top.

The demon smiled and leaned down, placing his palms on my desk, smelling of something sweet and musky. “I’ve been thinking about you all night….”

www.miraink.co.uk

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

CHAPTER ONE

There was a demon in McDonald’s.

And it had a powerful hunger for Big Macs.

Most days, I loved my after-school job. Tagging the soulless and the damned usually gave me a mad case of the warm fuzzies. I’d even given myself a quota out of boredom, but tonight was different.

I had a paper to outline for AP English.

“Are you gonna eat those fries?” Sam asked as he grabbed a handful off my tray. His curly brown hair fell over his wire-frame glasses. “Thanks.”

“Just don’t take her sweet tea.” Stacey slapped Sam’s arm and several fries fell to the floor. “You’ll lose your entire arm.”

I stopped tapping my foot, but kept my eye on the interloper. I don’t know what it was with demons and the Golden Arches, but man, they loved the place. “Ha-ha.”

“Who do you keep staring at, Layla?” Stacey twisted in the booth, looking around the crowded fast-food joint. “Is it a hot guy? If so, you better— Oh. Wow. Who goes out in public dressed like that?”

“What?” Sam turned, too. “Aw, come on, Stacey. Who cares? Not everyone wears knockoff Prada like you.”

To them, the demon looked like a harmless middle-aged woman with really bad fashion sense. Her dull brown hair was pinned up with one of those old-school purple butterfly clips. She wore velvet green track pants paired with pink sneakers, but it was her sweater that was epic. Someone had knitted a basset hound on the front, its big, sappy eyes made of brown yarn.

But despite her drab appearance, the lady wasn’t human.

Not that I had a lot of room to talk.

She was a Poser demon. Her astronomical appetite was what gave away the breed. Posers could eat a small nation’s worth of food in one sitting.

Posers might look and act human, but I knew this one could snap the head off the person in the booth next to her with little effort. Her inhuman strength wasn’t the threat, though. It was the Poser’s teeth and infectious saliva that were the real danger.

They were biters.

One little nip and the demonic version of rabies was passed to the human. Totally incurable, and within three days, the Poser’s chew toy would resemble something straight out of a George Romero flick, cannibalistic tendencies included.

Obviously, Posers were a real problem unless you considered a zombie apocalypse fun times. Only good thing was that Posers were rare, and every time one bit somebody, its lifespan was shortened. They usually had about seven good bites in them before they went poof. Sort of like a bee and its stinger but dumber.

Posers could look like anything they wanted. Why this one was rocking an outfit like that was beyond me.

Stacey made a face as the Poser moved on to her third burger. She wasn’t aware of us watching her. Posers weren’t known for their keen powers of observation, especially when preoccupied with secret-sauce awesomeness.

“That’s disgusting.” Stacey turned back around.

“I think the sweater is hot.” Sam grinned around another mouthful of my fries. “Hey, Layla, do you think Zayne would let me interview him for the school paper?”

My brows rose. “Why do you want to interview him?”

He gave me a knowing look. “To ask what’s it like to be a Warden in D.C., hunting down the bad guys and bringing them to justice and all that jazz.”

Stacey giggled. “You make the Wardens sound like superheroes.”

Sam shrugged bony shoulders. “Well, they kind of are. I mean, come on, you’ve seen them.”

“They’re not superheroes,” I said, falling into the standard speech I’d been giving ever since the Wardens went public ten years ago. After the skyrocketing increase in crime that had nothing to do with the economic downturn the world faced, but was more like a signal from Hell saying they no longer wanted to play by the rules, the Alphas had ordered the Wardens to come out of the shadows. To humans, Wardens had come out of their stone shells. After all, the gargoyles adorning many churches and buildings had been carved to resemble a Warden in his true skin. Sort of.

There were too many demons topside for the Wardens to continue to operate without exposure. “They’re people. Just like you, but—”

“I know.” Sam held up his hands. “Look, you know I’m not like those fanatics who think they’re evil or something stupid like that. I just think it’s cool and it would be a great piece in the paper. So what do you think? Would Zayne go for it?”

I shifted uncomfortably. Living with the Wardens often made me one of two things: a back door to gain access to them, or a freak. Because everyone, including my two closest friends, believed I was just like them. Human. “I don’t know, Sam. I don’t think any form of press makes them comfortable.”

He looked crestfallen. “Will you ask him at least?”

“Sure.” I fiddled with my straw. “But don’t hold your breath.”

Sam leaned against the hard seat back, satisfied. “So guess what?”

“What?” Stacey sighed, exchanging a woeful look with me. “What random piece of knowledge are you going to wow us with?”

“Did you know you can freeze a banana until it’s so hard you can actually nail something with it?”

I lowered my sweet tea. “How do you know these things?”

Sam finished off my fries. “I just do.”

“He spends his entire life on the computer.” Stacey pushed thick black bangs off her face. I don’t know why she didn’t cut them. She was always messing with them. “Probably searches for random crap for the fun of it.”

“That’s exactly what I do when I’m at home.” Sam rolled up his napkin. “I search for little-known facts. That’s how cool I am.” He threw the napkin at Stacey’s face.

“I stand corrected,” Stacey said unabashedly. “It’s porn you spend all night searching.”

The hollows of Sam’s cheeks turned bright red as he straightened his glasses. “Whatever. Are you guys ready? We’ve got some outlining to do for English.”

Stacey groaned. “I can’t believe Mr. Leto wouldn’t let us do our classics report on Twilight. It is a classic.”

I laughed, momentarily forgetting about the job I had to do. “Twilight is not a classic, Stacey.”

“Edward is definitely a classic in my book.” She pulled a hair tie out of her pocket, tugging her shoulder-length hair up. “And Twilight is way more interesting than All Quiet on the Western Front.”

Sam shook his head. “I can’t believe you just used Twilight and All Quiet on the Western Front in the same sentence.”

Ignoring him, her gaze bounced from my face to my food. “Layla, you haven’t even touched your burger.”

Maybe somehow I’d instinctively known I was going to need a reason to stick around. I sucked in a sigh. “You guys go ahead. I’ll meet up with you in a few minutes.”

“For real?” Sam stood.

“Yep.” I picked up my burger. “I’ll be down in a few.”

Stacey eyed me suspiciously. “You’re not going to bail on us like you always do?”

I flushed with guilt. I’d lost count of how many times I’d had to ditch them. “No. I swear. I’m just going to eat my food and I’ll be right there.”

“Come on.” Sam wrapped an arm around Stacey’s shoulders, steering her toward the trash can. “Layla would’ve been done eating by now if you hadn’t talked to her the entire time.”

“Oh, blame it on me.” Stacey dumped her trash, sending me a wave as they headed out.

I set the burger back down, watching Lady Poser impatiently. Pieces of bun and meat fell out of her mouth, splattering on the brown tray. My appetite was effectively slaughtered within seconds. Not that it really mattered. Food only eased the ache gnawing at my insides, never stopping it.

Lady Poser finally completed her feast of fatness, and I grabbed my bag as she ambled out the door. She plowed straight into an elderly man, knocking him right over as he tried to come in. Wow. This one was a real gem.

Her cackle could be heard inside the noisy restaurant, sounding as thin as paper. Luckily, some dude helped the man up as he shook his fist at the retreating demon.

Sighing, I dumped my food and followed her out into the late-September breeze.

Different shades of souls were everywhere, humming around bodies like an electrical field. Traces of pale pink and robin’s-egg blue trailed behind a couple walking hand in hand. They had innocent souls—but not pure.

All humans had a soul—an essence—good or bad, but demons weren’t rocking any such thing. Since most demons topside looked human at first glance, the lack of soul around them made my job of finding and tagging them easy. Besides the soulless factor, the only difference between them and humans was the odd way their eyes reflected light like a cat’s.

Lady Poser shuffled down the street, limping slightly. Out in the natural light, she didn’t look well. She’d probably already bit a few humans, which meant she needed to be tagged and dealt with ASAP.

A flyer on a green lamppost caught my attention. A fierce scowl and sense of protectiveness filled me as I read the thing. Warning. Wardens Aren’t God’s Children. Repent Now. The End Is Nigh.

Underneath the words was a crudely drawn picture of what I assumed was a rabid coyote mixed with a chupacabra.

“Sponsored by the Church of God’s Children,” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

Nice. I hated fanatics.

A diner down the block had the flyers plastered across its windows and a sign proclaiming they refused to serve Wardens.

Anger spread through me like an out-of-control wildfire. These idiots had no idea of all that the Wardens sacrificed for them. I drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. I needed to focus on my Poser instead of silently stomping my mental feet on my pretend soapbox.

Lady Poser turned a corner and glanced over her shoulder, her glassy eyes drifting over me, dismissing me outright. The demon in her didn’t sense anything abnormal about me.

The demon inside of me was in a hurry to get this over with.

Especially after my cell went off, vibrating against my thigh. Probably Stacey wondering where in the Hell I was. I just wanted to be done with this and go back to being normal for the rest of the evening. Without thinking, I reached up and pulled on the chain around my neck. The old ring dangling off the silver rope felt hot and heavy in my hand.

As I passed a group of kids around my age, their gazes moved over me, stopped and then swung right back. Of course they stared. Everyone did.

My hair was long. Big deal there, but it was such a pale blond that it looked nearly white. I hated when people stared. It made me feel like an albino. But it was my eyes that really caught people’s attention. They were a light gray, almost leached of color.

Zayne said I looked like the long-lost sister of the elf in Lord of the Rings. That was a huge confidence booster. Sigh.

Dusk had begun to settle in the nation’s capital as I rounded Rhode Island Avenue and came to a complete stop. Everything and everyone around me disappeared in an instant. There, in the soft flicker of the street lamps, I saw the soul.

It looked as if someone had dipped a brush into red paint and then flicked it over a soft black canvas. This guy had a bad soul. He wasn’t under the influence of a demon, but was just plain old evil all on his own. The dull ache in my gut flared to life. People pushed past me, casting annoyed looks in my direction. A few even muttered. I didn’t care. I didn’t even care about their soft pink souls, a color I usually found so pretty.

I finally focused on the figure behind the soul—an older man dressed in a generic business suit and tie, briefcase handle clutched in a meaty hand. Nothing to run from, nothing to be frightened of, but I knew different.

He’d sinned big-time.

My legs moved forward even as my brain screamed at me to stop, to turn around, even to call Zayne. Just hearing his voice would make me stop. Would stop me from doing what every cell in my body demanded I do—doing what was almost natural to me.

The man turned slightly, his eyes drifting over my face, down my body. His soul swirled crazy fast, becoming more red than black. He was old enough to be my father and that was gross, really gross.

He smiled at me, smiled in a way that should’ve sent me running in the other direction. I needed to go in that direction, too, because no matter how rotten this man was—no matter how many girls out there would hand me a gold medal for taking him out—Abbot had raised me to deny the demon inside. He’d raised me to be a Warden, to act like a Warden.

But Abbot wasn’t here.

I met the man’s stare, held it and felt my lips curve into a smile. My heart raced, my skin tingled and flushed. I wanted his soul—so bad my skin wanted to peel itself off my bones. It felt like waiting for a kiss, when your lips were moments away from joining, those breathless seconds of anticipation. But I’d never been kissed before.

All I had was this.

This man’s soul called to me like a siren’s song. It sickened me to be so tempted by the evil in his spirit, but a dark soul was as good as a pure one.

He smiled as he eyed me, his knuckles blanching around the handle of the briefcase. And that smile made me think of all the horrible things he could have done to earn the swirling void around him.

An elbow dug into my lower back. The tiny speck of pain was nothing compared to the exquisite anticipation. Just a few more steps and his soul would be so close—right there. I knew the first taste would spark the sweetest fire imaginable—a high for which there was no equivalent. It wouldn’t last very long, but the brief moments of pure ecstasy lingered as a potent allure.

His lips wouldn’t even need to touch mine. Just an inch or so, and I’d taste his soul—never take it all. Taking his soul would kill him and that was evil, and I wasn’t—

This was evil.

I jerked back, breaking eye contact. Pain exploded in my stomach, shooting through my limbs. Turning away from the man was like denying my lungs of oxygen. My skin burned and my throat felt raw as I forced one leg in front of the other. It was a struggle to keep walking, to not think about the man and to find the Poser again, but when I finally spotted her, I let out the breath I was holding. Focusing on the demon at least served as a distraction.

I followed her into a narrow alley between a dollar store and a check-cashing place. All I needed to do was touch her, which I should’ve done back in McDonald’s. I stopped halfway, looked around and then cursed.

The alley was empty.

Black garbage bags lined mold-covered brick walls. Dumpsters overflowed with more trash and creatures scurried along the gravel. I shuddered, eyeing the bags warily. Most likely rats, but other things hid in shadows—things that were worse than rats.

And a Hell of a lot creepier.

I walked farther in, scanning the darkening passage as I absently twisted the necklace between my fingers. I wished I’d had the foresight to pack a flashlight in my schoolbag, but that would’ve made too much sense. Instead I’d put a new tube of lip gloss and baggie full of cookies in there this morning. Real helpful stuff.

Sudden unease trickled down my spine. I dropped the ring, letting it bounce off my shirt. Something wasn’t right. I slipped my hand into the front pocket of my jeans, pulling out my beat-up cell as I turned around.

The Poser stood a few feet away. When she smiled, the wrinkles in her face cracked her skin. Thin slivers of lettuce hung from her yellow teeth. I took a breath and immediately wished I hadn’t. She smelled of sulfur and rotting flesh.

The Poser cocked her head to the side, eyes narrowing. No demon could sense me, because I didn’t have enough demonic blood flowing in my veins for them to pick it up, but she was looking at me like she was truly seeing what I hid inside.

Her gaze dropped to my chest and then her eyes flicked up, meeting mine. I let out a startled gasp. Her washed-out blue irises began to churn like a whirlpool around pupils that retracted into a thin point.

Crap on a cracker. This lady was so not a Poser.

Her form rippled and then scrambled, like a TV trying to digitally piece back together an image. The gray hair and banana clip disappeared. Creased skin smoothed out and turned the color of wax. The body stretched and expanded. The track pants and horrible sweater disappeared and were replaced by leather pants and a broad, muscular chest. The eyes were oval-shaped and churned like an endless sea—no pupils. The nose was flat, really just two holes above a wide, cruel mouth.

Double crap on a cracker the size of my butt.

It was a Seeker demon. I’d only ever seen one in the old books Abbot kept in his study. Seekers were like the Indiana Joneses of the demon world, able to locate and retrieve just about anything their handler sent them after. Unlike Indy, though, Seekers were mean and aggressive.

The Seeker smiled, revealing a mouth full of wicked-sharp teeth. “Gotcha.”

Gotcha? Got what? Me?

He lurched toward me and I darted to the side, fear spiking so fast my palms dotted with sweat as I touched his arm. Bursts of neon light shimmered around the Seeker’s body, making him nothing but a pink blur. He didn’t react to the tag. They never did. Only the Wardens could see the mark I left behind.

The Seeker grasped a handful of my hair, wrenching my head to the side as he grabbed for the front of my shirt. My cell slipped from my hand, smacking on the ground. A stinging sensation shot down my neck, over my shoulders.

Panic flooded like a dam had burst open, but instinct propelled me into action. All the evenings I’d spent training with Zayne kicked in. Tagging demons could get hairy every once in a while, and while I didn’t have ninja-stealth skills, there was no way in holy Hell I was going down without a fight.

Rearing back, I brought my leg up and planted my knee right where it counted. Thank God demons were anatomically correct. The Seeker grunted and jerked back, ripping out several strands of hair. Red hot pins and needles burned across my scalp.

Unlike other Wardens, I couldn’t shed my human skin and kick major behind, but hair-pulling flipped my bitch switch like no one’s business.

Agony exploded along my knuckles as the Seeker’s head jerked to the side when my closed fist hit him in the jaw. It wasn’t a girlie hit. Zayne would be so proud.

Slowly, the demon turned his head back to me. “I liked that. Do it again.”

My eyes popped wide.

It rushed me, and I knew I was going to die. I’d be ripped apart by a demon or worse yet, pulled through one of the many portals hidden throughout the city and taken downstairs. When people inexplicably disappeared into thin air, it was usually because they had a new zip code. Something like 666, and death would be a blessing compared to that kind of trip. I braced myself for impact.

“Enough.”

Both of us froze in response to the deep, unfamiliar voice oozing authority. The Seeker responded first, stepping to the side. Turning around, I saw him.

The newcomer stood well over six feet, as tall as any Warden. His hair was dark, the color of obsidian, and it reflected blue in the dim light. Lazy locks slipped over his forehead and curled just below his ears. Brows arched over golden eyes and his cheekbones were broad and high. He was attractive. Very attractive. Mind-bendingly beautiful, actually, but the sardonic twist to his full lips chilled his beauty. The black T-shirt stretched across his chest and flat stomach. A huge tattoo of a snake curled around his forearm, the tail disappearing under his sleeve and the diamond-shaped head rested on the top of his hand. He looked my age. Total crush material—if it wasn’t for the fact that he had no soul.

I stumbled a step back. What was worse than one demon? Two demons. My knees shook so bad I thought I might face-plant in the alley. A tagging had never gone this horribly wrong before. I was so screwed it wasn’t even funny.

“You should not intervene in this,” the Seeker demon said, and his hands curled into fists.

The new guy stepped forward noiselessly. “And you should kiss my ass. How about that?”

Uh...

The Seeker grew very still, his breathing heavy. Tension became a fourth entity in the alley. I took another step back, hoping to make a clean getaway. These two were so obviously not on the same page with one another and I did not want to get caught in the middle of this. When two demons went at it, they were known to bring down entire buildings. Faulty foundations or poor roofing? Yeah, right. More like an epic demon death match.

Two steps to the right and I could—

The boy’s gaze slammed into me. I sucked in air, staggered by the intensity of his gaze. The strap of my bag fell from my limp fingers. His eyes lowered, thick lashes fanning his cheeks. A small smile pulled at his lips, and when he spoke, his voice was soft, yet deep and powerful. “What a predicament you’ve gotten yourself into.”

I didn’t know what breed of demon he was, but by the way he stood there like he’d created the word power, I figured he wasn’t a lower demon like the Seeker or a Poser. Oh, no, he was most likely an Upper Level demon—a Duke or Infernal Ruler. Only the Wardens dealt with them, and that usually ended in a bloody mess.

My heart threw itself against my rib cage. I needed to get out of here and fast. No way was I going toe-to-toe with an Upper Level demon. My measly skills would earn me a butt kicking to remember. And the Seeker demon was growing angrier by the second, clenching and unclenching his meaty fists. Things were about to blow and blow bad.

Grabbing my book bag, I held it in front of me like the lamest shield ever. Then again, there wasn’t a thing in this world besides a Warden that could stop an Upper Level demon.

“Wait,” he said. “Don’t run off yet.”

“Don’t think about coming any closer,” I warned.

“I wouldn’t think of doing anything you didn’t want me to do.”

Ignoring whatever that meant, I continued to edge around the Seeker demon and toward the mouth of the alley that seemed so incredibly far away.

“You’re running anyway.” The Upper Level demon sighed. “Even after I asked you not to, and I think I was really nice about it.” He glanced at the Seeker, frowning. “Wasn’t I nice?”

The Seeker growled. “I mean no offense, but I don’t care how nice you are. You’re interrupting my job, you tool.”

I stumbled over the insult. Besides the fact that the Seeker was speaking to an Upper Level demon like that, it was such a...human thing to say.

“You know what they say,” the other demon countered. “Sticks and stones may break your bones, but I’m going to demolish you.”

Screw this. If I got back on the main street, I could lose both of them. They couldn’t attack in front of the humans—rules and all. Well, if these two were going to play by the rules, which seemed doubtful. I whipped around, dashing toward the opening of the alley.

I didn’t make it very far.

The Seeker hit me like a freaking NFL linebacker, knocking me against a Dumpster. Black spots darkened my vision. Something squeaky and furry dropped on my head. Shrieking like a banshee, I reached up and grabbed hold of the squirming body. Little claws tangled in my hair. Two seconds from stroking out, I yanked the rat out of my hair and tossed it onto the garbage bags. It squeaked as it bounced, then darted into a crack in the wall.

With a low snarl, the Upper Level demon appeared behind the Seeker, grabbing him by the throat. A second later, he had the Seeker dangling several feet off the ground. “Now, that wasn’t very nice,” he said in a low, ominous voice.

Spinning around, he tossed the Seeker like a beanbag. The Seeker slammed into the opposite wall, hitting the ground on his knees. The Upper Level demon raised his arm...and the snake tattoo lifted off his skin, breaking apart into a million black dots. They floated into the air between him and the Seeker, hung for a second, then dropped to the ground. The dots oozed together, forming a thick black mass.

No—not a mass, but a huge freaking snake at least ten feet long and as wide as I was. I sprang to my feet, ignoring the wave of dizziness.

The thing spun toward me, rising halfway up. Its eyes burned an unholy red.

A scream caught in my throat.

“Don’t be scared of Bambi,” the demon said. “She’s only curious and maybe a little bit hungry.”

The thing was named Bambi?

Oh, my God, the thing stared at me like it wanted to eat me.

The...the giant snake didn’t try to make me his snack pack. When it swung back toward the Seeker, I nearly fell over from relief. But then it shot across the small space, rising until its monstrous head hovered over the petrified lesser demon. The snake opened its mouth, revealing two fangs the size of my hand and, past them, a yawning black hole.

“Okay,” the demon murmured, smirking. “Maybe she’s a lot hungry.”

I took that as my cue to book it out of the alley.

“Wait!” yelled the demon, and when I didn’t stop but ran faster than I ever had before, his curse echoed in my head.

I crossed the avenues bordering Dupont Circle, passing the shop I’d planned on joining Stacey and Sam at. Only when I reached the spot where Morris, our chauffeur and about a dozen other things, would pick me up did I stop to breathe.

The gently hued souls thrummed around me, but I didn’t pay attention to them. Numb to my core, I sat on a bench by the curb. I felt wrong, off. What the Hell had just happened? All I’d wanted to do was outline All Quiet on the Western Front tonight. Not almost devour a soul, nearly get killed, meet my very first Upper Level demon or watch a tattoo turn into an anaconda for chrissake.

I glanced down at my empty hand.

Or lose my phone.

Crap.

CHAPTER TWO

Morris didn’t talk on the way to the house on Dunmore Lane. No big surprise there. Morris never spoke. Maybe it was the stuff he saw going on inside our house that left him speechless. I really didn’t know.

Fidgety to the tenth degree from sitting on the bench for about an hour waiting on Morris, I bounced my foot on the dashboard the whole way home. It was only four miles, but four miles in D.C. equaled a billion miles elsewhere. The only part of the trip that went fast was the private stretch of road leading up to Abbot’s monster of a home.

With four stories, countless guest rooms and even an indoor pool, it was more like a hotel than a home. It really was a compound—a place where the unmarried male Wardens in the clan lived and operated like command central. As we drew closer, I blinked and let out a muttered curse that earned me a disapproving look from Morris.

Six stone gargoyles that hadn’t been there this morning were perched on the edge of our rooftop. Visitors. Great.

I pulled my feet down from the dashboard and grabbed my bag off the floor. Even with their wings folded in and faces turned down, the hunched shapes were a formidable sight against the starry night.

In their resting form, Wardens were nearly indestructible. Fire couldn’t harm them. Chisels and hammers couldn’t breach their shell. People had tried every form of weapon since the Wardens went public. So had the demons since, well, forever, but Wardens were only weak when they looked human.

The moment the car drifted to a stop in front of the sprawling porch, I jumped out and tore up the steps, skidding to a halt in front of the door. In the upper-left corner of the porch, a small camera shifted to where I stood. The light blinked red. Somewhere in the massive rooms and tunnels under the mansion, Geoff was in the control room and behind the camera. No doubt getting a kick out of making me wait.

I stuck out my tongue.

The light turned green a second later.

Rolling my eyes when I heard the door unlocking, I opened it and dropped my bag in the foyer. Immediately, I started toward the stairs. After a second thought, I swiveled around and raced toward the kitchen. Finding the room blissfully empty, I dug out a roll of sugar-cookie dough from the fridge. I broke off a chunk and then headed upstairs. The house was cemetery quiet. At this time of the day, most would be in the training facility underground or had already left to hunt.

All except Zayne. For as long as I could remember, Zayne had never left to hunt without seeing me first.

I took the steps three at a time, munching on the dough. Wiping my sticky fingers across my denim skirt, I nudged his door open with my hip and froze. I seriously needed to learn how to knock.

I saw his pearly-white, luminous glow first—a pure soul. Different from a human soul, a Warden’s essence was pure, a product of what they were. Very few humans retained a pure soul once they started exercising the whole thing called free will. Due to the taint of the demonic blood I carried, I knew I didn’t have a pure soul. I wasn’t sure I had a soul at all. I could never see mine.

Sometimes...sometimes I didn’t think I belonged with them—with Zayne.

A sense of shame curled low in my stomach, but before it could spread like noxious fumes, Zayne’s soul faded, and I wasn’t really thinking about anything.

Fresh out of the shower, Zayne tugged a plain black T-shirt on over his head. Not quick enough that I missed a tantalizing glimpse of abs. Rigorous training kept his body chiseled and rock hard. I dragged my gaze up when the stretch of skin disappeared. Damp sandy hair clung to his neck and sculpted cheeks. His features would be too perfect if it weren’t for those watered-down blue eyes all Wardens had.

I shuffled to the edge of his bed and sat. I shouldn’t think of Zayne the way I did. He was the closest thing I had to a brother. His father, Abbot, had raised us together and Zayne looked at me like the little sister he somehow ended up saddled with.

“What’s up, Layla-bug?” he asked.

Part of me loved it when he used my childhood nickname. The other part—the part that wasn’t a little girl anymore—loathed it. I peeked at him through my lashes. He was fully clothed now. What a shame. “Who’s on the roof?”

He sat beside me. “A few travelers from out of town needed a place to rest. Abbot offered them beds, but they preferred the roof. They didn’t—” He stopped suddenly, leaning forward, grabbing my leg. “Why are your knees scuffed up?”

My brain sort of shorted out the moment his hand touched my bare leg. A hot flush stole over my cheeks, spreading way, way down. I gazed at his high cheekbones and those lips—oh, God, those lips were perfect. A thousand fantasies blossomed. All of them involved him, me and the ability to kiss him without sucking out his soul.

“Layla, what did you get into tonight?” He dropped my leg.

I shook my head, dispelling those hopeless dreams. “Um...well, nothing.”

Zayne moved closer, staring at me as if he could see through my lies. He had an uncanny ability to do so. But if I told him everything, like the Upper Level demon part, they’d never let me leave the house alone. I liked my freedom. It was about the only thing I had.

I sighed. “I thought I was following a Poser.”

“And you weren’t?”

“Nope.” I wished he’d touch my leg again. “It turned out to be a Seeker pretending to be a Poser.”

Amazing how quickly he went from superhot guy to all serious-faced Warden. “What do you mean the Seeker was pretending?”

I forced a casual shrug. “I really don’t know. I saw it in McDonald’s. It had the appetite of a Poser and behaved like one, so I followed it. Turned out it wasn’t a Poser, but I tagged him.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” His brow pinched, a common expression whenever he was turning over something in his head. “Seeker demons are errand boys, or they’re summoned by some idiot to find something stupid like frog eyes or the blood of a bald eagle for a spell that will inevitably backfire. Pretending to be a Poser is not typical.”

I remembered what the Seeker had said. Gotcha. As if it had been looking for me. I knew I needed to tell Zayne that, but his father was already a spaz when it came to where I went and who I was with. And Zayne was pretty much required to tell his father everything since Abbot was the head of the D.C. clan of Wardens. Besides, I had to have misheard the Seeker, and demons rarely had a reason for doing weird or unexpected things. They were demons. Explanation enough.

“Are you okay?” Zayne asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I paused. “I did lose my phone, though.”

He laughed, and oh man, I loved the sound of his laugh. Deep. Rich. “Jesus, Layla, how many does that make so far this year?”

“Five.” I stared at his heavily stocked bookcases, sighing. “Abbot isn’t going to get me another one. He thinks I lose them on purpose. I don’t. They just...unfriend me.”

Zayne laughed again, nudging me with his denim-clad knee. “How many did you tag tonight?”

I thought about the few hours after school, before I met up with Stacey and Sam. “Nine. Two were Posers and the rest were Fiends, with the exception of the Seeker.” Which Zayne would probably never find since there was a good chance Bambi had eaten it.

Zayne gave a low whistle. “Nice. I’ll have a busy night.”

And that was what Wardens did. Generation after generation, they’d been keeping the demon population in check since long before they went public. I was only seven when it happened, so I didn’t remember how the public responded. I’m sure the big reveal included a whole lot of freaking out. Oddly enough, I moved in with them around the same time.

The Alphas, the angelic guys who ran the show, understood that there needed to be good and bad in the world—the Law of Balance. But something happened ten years ago. Demons began pouring through the portals by the buttload, creating chaos as they wreaked havoc on everything they came in contact with. Possession of humans became a huge problem, and things spiraled out of control at that point. Hell’s lovelies no longer wanted to stay in the shadows and the Alphas couldn’t have mankind knowing that demons were real. Abbot once told me it had to do with free will and faith. Man needed to believe in God without knowing Hell truly existed. Willing to do anything to keep mankind in the dark about the demons, the Alphas had issued their mandate. Seemed like a big risk and that humans would eventually add one plus one and get demons, but what did I know?

Only a select few humans knew the truth. Besides Morris, there were some within the police departments, the government and surely military personnel around the world who knew demons existed. Those humans had their own reasons for keeping the general populace in the dark, reasons that had nothing to do with faith. The world would descend into chaos if humans knew demons were ordering their morning coffee right alongside them.

But that was the way it worked. Wardens helped the police departments with capturing criminals, and some of those criminals hunted down were demons, who may have had a get-out-of-jail-free card, but who went straight back to Hell and did not pass Go. If the demons ever exposed themselves to the world, the Alphas would destroy all the demons that were topside, including my happy half-demon butt.

“Things are getting kind of crazy,” he said, mostly to himself. “There’s a Hell of a lot more Poser activity. Some of the Wardens in different districts have even run into Hellions.”

My eyes popped. “Hellions?”

As Zayne nodded, an image of the overgrown, beastly things formed in my thoughts. Hellions weren’t supposed to be topside. They were like cracked-out mutant apes and pit bulls rolled into one.

Zayne bent at the waist, rummaging under his bed. Strands of hair fell forward, obscuring his face. I could openly gawk now. Zayne was only four years older than me, but being a Warden, he was a lot more mature than most human guys his age. I knew everything about him, except what he really looked like.

That was the thing about gargoyles. The skin they wore during the day wasn’t who they were. For the millionth time, I wondered about Zayne’s real appearance. His human skin was hotness, but unlike the others he never allowed me to see his true form.

And since I was only half-Warden, I couldn’t shift like a normal one could. I was permanently stuck in human form, irrevocably flawed. Wardens typically didn’t do well with flaws. If it wasn’t for my unique ability to see souls and tag those who lacked them, I’d be pretty damn useless in the big scheme of things.

Zayne sat up, a lump of stuffed fur in his hand. “Look who I found. You left him in here a couple of nights ago.”

“Mr. Snotty!” I grabbed the raggedy teddy bear, grinning. “I was wondering where he was.”

His lips curved into a smile. “I can’t believe you still have that bear.”

I flopped onto my back, clutching Mr. Snotty to my chest. “You gave him to me.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“He’s my favorite stuffed animal.”

“He’s your only stuffed animal.” Zayne stretched out beside me, staring up at the ceiling. “You came home earlier than I expected. I thought you were studying with your friends?”

I gave a lopsided shrug.

Zayne tapped his fingers along his stomach. “That’s strange. You’re normally whining to have a later curfew, but it’s not even nine yet.”

I bit my lip. “So? I told you what happened.”

“So, I know you’re not telling me everything.” Something in the way he said that made me turn my head toward him. “Why would you lie to me?”

Our faces were close, but not close enough that it would become dangerous. And Zayne trusted me, believed I was more Warden than demon. I thought about the snake...and the boy who really wasn’t a boy but a high-ranking demon.

I shuddered.

Zayne reached across the tiny space between us, placing his hand atop mine. My heart missed a beat. “Tell me the truth, Layla-bug.”

I could easily recall the first time he’d called me that.

It was the night they’d brought me to this house. At seven years old, I’d been terrified of the winged creatures with jagged teeth and red eyes that had taken me from the foster home. The moment they had set me down in the foyer of this very home, I’d torn through the house and tucked myself into a tiny ball in the back of the first closet I’d found. Hours later, Zayne had coaxed me out of my hidey-hole, holding a pristine teddy bear and calling me Layla-bug. Even at eleven, he’d seemed larger than life to me, and from that moment on I’d been attached to his hip. Something the older Wardens relished giving him a hard time about.

“Layla?” he murmured, tightening his hold on my hand.

Words tumbled out. “Do you think I’m evil?”

His brows furrowed. “Why would you ask that?”

I stared at him pointedly. “Zayne, I’m half-demon—”

“You are a Warden, Layla.”

“And you always say that, but it’s not the truth. I’m more like a...like a mule.”

“A mule?” he repeated slowly, brows furrowing.

“Yeah, a mule. You know, half horse, half donkey—”

“I know what a mule is, Layla. And I really hope you’re not comparing yourself to one.”

I didn’t say anything, because I was. Like a mule, I was a strange hybrid—half demon and half Warden. And because of that, I would never be mated with another Warden. Even demons, if they knew what I was, wouldn’t claim me. So, yeah, I thought the comparison was accurate.

Zayne sighed. “Just because your mother was what she was doesn’t make you a bad person, and it sure as Hell doesn’t make you a mule.”

Turning my head, I resumed staring into space. The fan spun dizzily, creating odd shadows across the ceiling. A demonic mother I’d never met and a father I didn’t remember. And Stacey thought her single-parent household was messed up. I reached down, toying nervously with the ring.

“You know that, right?” Zayne continued earnestly. “You know you’re not an evil person, Layla. You’re a good, smart and—” He stopped, sitting up and hovering over me like a guardian angel. “You...you didn’t take a soul tonight? Layla, if you did you need to tell me right now. We’ll figure something out. I’d never let my father know, but you have to tell me.”

Of course Abbot could never know if I did something like that—not even by accident. As much as he cared for me, he’d still turn me out. Taking a soul was forbidden for a ton of moral reasons.

“No. I didn’t take a soul.”

He stared at me and then his shoulders squared. “Don’t scare me like that, Layla-bug.”

I suddenly wanted to hold Mr. Snotty closer. “I’m sorry.”

Zayne reached down, prying my hand off the bear. “You’ve made mistakes, but you’ve learned from them. You’re not evil. That’s what you need to remember. And what’s in the past is in the past.”

I worried my lower lip, thinking of those “mistakes.” There’d been more than one. The earliest incident had been what brought the Wardens to the foster home. I’d accidentally taken a soul from one of the caregivers—not all of it, but enough that the woman had to be hospitalized. Somehow the Wardens had learned about it through their connections and had tracked me down.

To this day, I didn’t understand why Abbot had kept me. Demons were a matter of black-and-white to the Wardens. There was no such thing as a good or innocent demon. Being part demon meant I should’ve fallen under the old “the only good demon is a dead demon” adage, but for some reason, I’d been different to them.

You know why, whispered an ugly voice in my head, and I closed my eyes. My ability to see souls and the lack thereof, a product of my demonic blood, was a valuable tool in the battle against evil, but Wardens could sense demons when they got close enough to them. Without me, their job would be harder, but not impossible.

At least that was what I told myself.

Zayne turned my hand over, sliding his fingers between mine. “You’ve been in the cookie dough again. Did you save any for me this time?”

True love meant sharing odd food cravings. I so believed that. I opened my eyes. “There’s half a pack left.”

He smiled, easing back down on his side this time, keeping his hand wrapped around mine. Hair fell across his cheek. I wanted to brush it off his face, but didn’t have the nerve. “I’ll get you a new phone tomorrow,” he said finally.

I beamed at him like he was my own personal cell-phone manufacturer. “Please get me a touch-screen one this time. Everyone at school has one.”

Zayne arched a brow. “You’d destroy that in a matter of seconds. You need one of those giant satellite phones.”

“That’ll make me real cool.” I wrinkled my nose as I glanced at the wall clock. He’d need to be leaving soon. “I guess I should go study or something.”

Golden-hued skin crinkled as he smiled. “Don’t go yet.”

Nothing in this world could stop the warmth building in my chest. I glanced at the bedside clock once more. He had a few more hours before he left to hunt the demons I’d tagged earlier. Grateful, I rolled onto my side. Mr. Snotty lay between us.

He untangled his fingers from mine and plucked up a few strands of my hair. “Your hair is always in knots. Do you even know how to use a brush?”

I smacked his hand away, shuddering at the reminder of the rat. “Yes, I know how to use a brush, you ass.”

Zayne chuckled, returning to my knotted hair. “Language, Layla, language.”

I quieted down as he gently pulled a few of the tangles out. This touching-my-hair thing was new and I didn’t mind. He held the pale strands between us, eyes narrowed in concentration. “I need a haircut,” I murmured after a few moments.

“No.” He draped my hair back over my shoulder. “It’s...beautiful long. And it suits you.”

My heart practically exploded into mush. “Do you want to hear about school today?”

His gaze brightened. All the Wardens except me had been homeschooled, and most of Zayne’s college classes had been online. He listened as I told him about the paper I’d gotten a B on, the fight in the cafeteria between two girls over a boy and how Stacey accidentally locked herself in the guidance counselor’s office after school.

“Oh. I almost forgot.” I paused, yawning obnoxiously. “Sam wants to interview you for the school paper. Something about you being a Warden.”

Zayne grimaced. “I don’t know about that. We aren’t allowed to give interviews. The Alphas would see that as being prideful.”

“I know. I told him not to hold his breath.”

“Good. Father would flip out if he thought I was talking to the press.”

I giggled. “Sam’s not the press, but I gotcha.”

He kept me up for a little while longer, asking question after question. Against my will, my eyes fell shut. He’d be long gone before I woke up; out hunting demons. Maybe even a few Upper Level ones. Maybe even the demon boy with the snake named Bambi.

* * *

Bleary-eyed, I dug out my bio book. I had three seconds to myself before a soft green soul edged into my line of vision. I lifted my head, inhaling deeply. I liked to be around innocent souls. They were pretty average and not as tempting as—

A fist slammed into my arm. “You didn’t come to our study group, Layla!”

I stumbled to the side, catching myself on the locker door. “Jeez, Stacey, that’s going to bruise.”

“You left us hanging. Again.”

Slamming my locker door shut, I faced my best friend. Stacey had some oomph behind her punches. “Sorry. I had to run home. Something came up.”

“Something always comes up.” She glared at me. “It’s ridiculous. Do you know I had to sit and listen to Sam talk about how many people he killed on Assassin’s Creed for an entire hour?”

I shoved my books into my bag, laughing. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, it did.” She ripped a hair tie off her wrist and pulled her hair into a short ponytail. “But I forgive you.”

Stacey always forgave me for being late or not showing up. I really didn’t understand why. I could be a terrible friend at times, and it wasn’t like Stacey wasn’t popular. She had a lot of other friends, but ever since freshman year, she’d seemed to like me.

We stepped into the throng of students. The mingled scents of perfume and body odor turned my stomach. My senses were slightly heightened. Nothing super extraordinary like a full-blooded demon or Warden, but unfortunately, I could smell what most humans couldn’t. “I’m really sorry about last night. I didn’t even get to study for our bio exam.”

She stared at me, her almond-shaped eyes narrowing. “You still look half-asleep.”

“I was so bored in homeroom that I dozed off and almost slid out of my chair.” I glanced at a group of jocks slouched near the empty trophy case. Our football team sucked. Their souls were a rainbow of soft blues. “Mr. Brown yelled at me.”

She snickered. “Mr. Brown yells at everyone. So you didn’t study at all?”

Pink souls surrounding a group of giggling sophomores caught my attention. “What?”

Letting out a long-suffering sigh, she said, “Biology—as in the science of life? We’re on our way to class. We have an exam.”

I tore my gaze from the pretty trails, frowning. “Oh. Duh. No, like I said, I didn’t study at all.”

Stacey switched her books to her other arm. “I hate you. You didn’t crack a book and you’ll probably still get an A.” She brushed her bangs out of her eyes, shaking her head. “So not fair.”

“I don’t know. Mrs. Cleo gave me a B on the last exam and I really have no clue what’s on this one.” I frowned, realizing how true that was. “Man, I really should have studied last night.”

“You still have Sam’s notes?” She grabbed my arm, steering me out of the path of another student. I caught the tail end of a deep pink soul blurred with streaks of red. “Wow, he is so checking you out.”

“Huh?” I looked at Stacey. “Who?”

She glanced over her shoulder as she pulled me closer. “The guy you almost plowed into—Gareth Richmond. He’s still checking you out. No!” she hissed into my ear. “Don’t look. That’s too obvious.”

I fought the natural urge to turn around.

Stacey giggled. “Actually, he’s checking out your butt.” She let go of my arm, straightening. “It is a nice butt.”

“Thanks,” I murmured, my gaze following the powder-blue soul surrounding a guy ahead of us.

“Gareth checking out your butt is a good thing,” Stacey continued. “His dad owns half of downtown and his parties are freaking awesome.”

I turned into the narrow corridor leading to bio. “I think you’re just imagining things.”

She shook her head. “Don’t act clueless. You’re cute—way hotter than that hobag over there.”

My gaze went straight to where Stacey pointed. A faint purple aura surrounded Eva Hasher. Meaning she was a few more mean-girl moves away from slipping into questionable soul status. My throat suddenly constricted. The darker or purer the soul was, the stronger the allure.

The really, really bad and the really, really good were the most appealing, which made Eva very interesting to me, but eating the soul belonging to the most popular girl in school would be way uncool.

Eva leaned against a locker, surrounded by what Stacey referred to as the bitch pack.

Eva flipped Stacey off with one perfectly painted blue nail and then glanced at me. “Oh, look! It’s the gargoyle whore.”

Her pack of mindless followers laughed.

I rolled my eyes. “Ouch. New one.”

Stacey returned the gesture with both hands. “What a stupid bitch.”

“It’s whatever.” I shrugged. Being called a whore by Eva while knowing the status of her soul was too ironic to get mad over.

“You know she and Gareth broke up, right?”

“They did?” I couldn’t keep up with those two.

Stacey nodded. “Yep. He cropped her out of all his pictures on Facebook. Really crappy cropping job, too, because you can see her arm or leg in half of them. Anyway, you should go out with him just to piss her off.”

“How did checking out my butt end up with me going out with a guy who doesn’t even know my name?”

“Oh, I’m sure he knows your name—and probably your bra size, too.” She stepped around me, pushing through the door to bio. “Yes, there are sixth graders taller than you. But guys like that. They want to pick you up and put you in their pockets. Take care of you.”

I brushed past her, smirking. “That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.”

She followed me to our seats at the back of the classroom. “You’re like this little doll with those big gray eyes and pouty lips.”

I shot her a scathing glare as I dropped into my seat. Most days I looked like a creepy anime character. “Are you coming on to me or something?”

Stacey grinned evilly. “I’d go gay for you.”

Digging out Sam’s notes, I snorted. “I wouldn’t go gay for you. Eva Hasher? Maybe.”

She gasped, clutching the front of her shirt. “That stung. Anyway, I texted you at least a dozen times last night and you didn’t respond once.”

“Sorry. I lost my phone.” I flipped a page, wondering what language Sam had scribbled this crap in. “Zayne is supposed to get me a new one today. I’m hoping it’s a touch screen like yours.”

This time Stacey sighed. “God, can Abbot adopt me, too? Seriously. I want a superhot adopted brother. Instead I have a whiny, craps-himself brother. I so want a Zayne.”

I tried to ignore the red-hot jolt of possessiveness darting through my veins. “Zayne’s not my brother.”

“Thank God for that. Otherwise you’d be plagued with incestuous feelings all the time and that’s just gross.”

“I don’t think of Zayne that way!”

She laughed. “What man-parts-loving female in this world doesn’t think of Zayne that way? I can barely keep myself breathing when I see him. All the guys in school have squishy waists. I can tell Zayne doesn’t. He’s the awesome sauce with extra sauce.”

That he was, and he so didn’t have a squishy waist, but I tuned Stacey out at that point. I really did need to cram for this test and I also didn’t want my fantasies involving Zayne to occupy my mind right now. Especially after I’d woken up this morning, carefully tucked under the covers. The bed had smelled like him: sandalwood and crisp linen.

“Oh, sweet baby Jesus in a manger,” Stacey murmured.

I clenched my jaw, cupping my hands over my ears.

She jabbed me in the side with her elbow. At this rate I’d be covered in bruises before lunchtime. “Our bio class just got a billion times more interesting. And hotter, lots and lots hotter. Holy mother, I want to have his babies. Not now of course, but definitely later. But I’d like to start practicing soon.”

The cell wall is a thick and rigid layer covering the plasma something, something plant cells...

Stacey stiffened all of a sudden. “Oh, my God, he’s coming—”

Composed of fat and sugar—

Something slender and shiny fell from who knew where, landing in the middle of Sam’s notes. Blinking tightly, it took me a couple of seconds to recognize the faded and half-peeled Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles sticker covering the back of the silver cell phone.

My heart slammed against my ribs. Gripping the edges of the notebook, I slowly lifted my gaze. Unnaturally beautiful golden eyes met mine.

“You forgot this last night.”

CHAPTER THREE

He couldn’t be here.

But he was, and I couldn’t look away. Suddenly I wished I could sketch, because my fingers itched to draw the lines of his face, to try to capture the exact slant of the bottom lip that was fuller than the top. Not exactly a helpful line of thinking.

The demon smiled. “You ran off so fast I didn’t get a chance to give it to you.”

My heart stopped beating. This wasn’t happening. An Upper Level demon didn’t return missing cell phones and he sure as Hell didn’t go to school. I had to be hallucinating.

“You little secret-keeping elf,” Stacey whispered in my ear. “This is why you didn’t show up for our study group last night?”

His gaze had a hypnotic, paralyzing effect. Or I was just that stupid. I could feel Stacey practically coming out of her skin beside me.

He leaned down, placing his palms on my desk, smelling of something sweet and musky. “I’ve been thinking about you all night.”

Stacey sounded like she’d choked.

The door to our classroom swung open and Mrs. Cleo shuffled in, her plump arms filled with papers. “All right, everyone in their seats.”

Still smiling, the demon straightened and turned. He sat down in the desk directly in front of us. Not even a second passed before he rocked the chair back on two legs, hovering there and completely at ease.

“What the frick, Layla?” Stacey gripped my arm. “Where did you pick him up last night, somewhere between the Big Mac and fries? And why didn’t I get an order of him?”

Stacey’s fingers continued to dig into my arm, but I was utterly dumbstruck.

Mrs. Cleo cradled the exams to her chest like they were a newborn infant. “It’s quiet time. Everyone face the front of— Oh, we have a new student.” She picked up a small pink sheet, frowning as she looked up at demon boy. “Well, the exam won’t count toward your grade, but it should give me an idea of where you’re at.”

“Layla,” Stacey whispered. “The look on your face is starting to freak me out. Are you okay?”

Mrs. Cleo dropped the exams on our desks, snapping her fingers. “No talking. Test time, Ms. Shaw and Ms. Boyd.”

The questions on the paper blurred. I couldn’t do this—sit here and take an exam with a freaking demon sitting in front of me.

“I don’t feel good,” I whispered to Stacey.

“I can tell.”

Without another word, I gathered up my stuff. My legs shook as I stood and hurried to the front of the class. Mrs. Cleo glanced up as I flew past her, my cell slippery in my hand.

“Ms. Shaw, where do you think you’re going?” she called out, rising to her feet. “You can’t just leave class in the middle of an exam! Ms. Shaw—”

The door slammed shut, silencing whatever else she said. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew I had to call Zayne—maybe even Abbot. The gray lockers lining the halls blurred. I pushed open the door to the girls’ bathroom, and the lingering scent of cigarettes and disinfectant washed over me. The graffiti on the walls looked completely unintelligible.

Flipping open the phone, I caught a glimpse of my eyes in the mirror. They were bigger than normal, taking up my whole face. My stomach tumbled as I thumbed through my contacts.

The door to the bathroom creaked open.

I swung around, but no one stood there. Slowly, the door inched closed with a soft clink. A shiver danced over my skin. My finger trembled as I pressed down on Zayne’s name. There was a chance he’d still be awake and not completely encased in stone at the moment. A small, unlikely—

Demon boy was suddenly standing in front of me. He folded his hand over mine, snapping the phone shut. A startled shriek escaped me.

His lips pursed. “Now who are you calling?”

My pulse raced at breakneck speed. “How...how did you do that?”

“Do what? Leave class so easily?” He leaned down as if he was about to share a secret. “I can be very persuasive. It’s a gift of mine.”

I knew Upper Level demons held powers of persuasion. Some could just whisper two or three words to a person, and whatever the demon wanted, the human would do. But that was also against the rules—free will and all.

“I don’t care about the class thing. You were freaking invisible!”

“I know. Pretty cool, huh?” He pried the cell out of my hands. Didn’t take much since my fingers felt boneless. He looked around the bathroom, dark brows raised. “It’s only one of many talents.” Casting a look over his shoulder at me, he winked. “And I do have many talents.”

I inched around the sink, toward the door. “And I really don’t care about your many talents.”

“Stay still.” He kicked open a stall with the toe of his black boot as he kept an eye on me. “We need to chat, you and I. And that door isn’t opening for anyone but me.”

“Wait! What are you doing? Don’t—”

My cell flew through the air, landing in the toilet. He faced me, shrugging. “Sorry. I was hoping the phone could be a white flag of friendship, but I can’t have you calling those creatures of yours.”

“That’s my cell phone, you son of a—”

“It’s not your cell phone anymore.” He grinned playfully. “Now it belongs to the sewer department.”

I backed away from him, successfully cornering myself between the sink and the gray cement wall, where a heart had been carved under a small window. “Don’t come near me.”

“Or what? Remember how far you got fighting the Seeker last night? You won’t get even that far with me.”

I opened my mouth to—I don’t know—scream, but he shot forward, clamping his hand over my lips. Running on instinct, I slammed my balled fists into his stomach. He grabbed my wrist with his free hand and pressed against me, trapping my other arm between my softer stomach and his much, much harder one. I tried to wriggle away, but he held me in place.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” His breath stirred the hair around my temple. “I just want to talk.”

I bit his hand.

He let out a low hiss, wrapping his hand around my throat. He pressed his fingers in, forcing my head back. “Biting can be a lot of fun, but only when it’s appropriate. And that wasn’t appropriate.”

I wrestled an arm free and gripped his. “I’m going to do worse to you than biting if you don’t let go of me.”

The demon blinked and then laughed. “I might be interested in seeing what more you can do. Pleasure. Pain. Kind of the same thing, but we don’t have time for that right now.”

I drew in a deep breath, trying to calm my pounding heart. My gaze darted to the door. The reality of the situation sank in. I’d escaped the Seeker demon and this one last night, only to die in the bathroom of my high school. Life was freaking cruel.

There was no place for me to go. Any movement I made brought us closer together and we were already way too close. The word leaked out of my mouth. “Please...”

“Okay. Okay.” To my surprise, his voice dropped, became soothing as his grip relaxed. “I scared you. Maybe I should have picked a better way of showing up, but the look on your face was priceless. If you knew my name, would that make you feel better?”

“Not really.”

He smirked. “You can call me Roth.”

Nope. Knowing his name didn’t make me feel better.

“And I’ll call you Layla.” His head shifted, sending several locks of black hair forward. “I know what you can do. So let’s cut the crap, Layla. You know what I am and I know what you are.”

“You have the wrong person.” I dug my nails into his arm. It had to hurt, but it didn’t even faze him.

Roth looked up to the ceiling, sighing. “You’re half-demon, Layla. You can see souls. That’s why you were in that alley last night.”

I opened my mouth to lie again, but what was the point? Taking a deep breath, I struggled to keep my voice even. “What do you want?”

He tipped his head to the side. “Right this moment? I want to understand how you’ve let the Wardens brainwash you into hunting your own kind. How you can work for them.”

“They haven’t brainwashed me!” I pushed against his stomach. He didn’t budge. And wow, his stomach was so not squishy, either. It was ridiculously hard and trim. And I was sort of feeling him up. I jerked my hands back. “I’m nothing like you. I am a Warden—”

“You are half Warden and half demon. What you’re doing is—is sacrilegious,” he announced with a look of disgust.

I scoffed. “Coming from you, a demon? That’s almost funny.”

“And what do you think you are? Just because you choose to ignore your demon blood doesn’t change its existence.” He leaned in so close his nose brushed mine as his hand cupped my chin, forcing me to maintain eye contact. “Don’t you ever wonder why the Wardens didn’t kill you? You’re part demon. So why did they keep you? Perhaps it’s because your ability to see souls is valuable to them? Or something else?”

My eyes narrowed as anger replaced the fear. “They don’t use me. They’re my family.”

“Family?” It was his turn to scoff. “You obviously can’t shift or you would’ve done so last night.”

Heat burned my face. Jeez, even a demon knew I was defective.

“Whatever Warden blood you have in you isn’t as strong as your demon side. We are your family—your kind.”

Hearing that was putting voice to my own personal version of Hell. I knocked his hand away. “No.”

“Really? I think you’re lying. Seeing souls isn’t the only thing you can do, is it? The last one who could?” he whispered, catching my chin again with the tips of his slender fingers. “She could do much more than that. Let’s just say she’d get a very unique hankering.”

I started to shake. “Who are you talking about?”

Roth smiled like the cat that ate an entire roomful of canaries and had moved on to the parrots. “I know what you wanted before you went into that alley.”

The floor seemed to roll under my feet. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You don’t? I was following you.”

“Oh, so you’re a demon and a stalker?” I swallowed hard. “Because that’s not creepy or anything.”

He laughed softly. “Deflection doesn’t work on demons.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to try biting again.”

Something flared in his golden eyes, brightening them. “You wanna try?” He leaned in again, his lips brushing the curve of my cheek. “Let me suggest more appropriate places. I have this piercing—”

“Stop!” I jerked my head to the side. “Now I can add pervert to stalker and demon.”

“I have no objection to any of those titles.” One side of his mouth curved up as he pulled back a little. “You wanted that man’s soul—the one you saw on the street? I’d be willing to bet a whole circle in Hell it’s all you ever want—ever think about sometimes.”

I did need it. Sometimes I shook just thinking about how a soul would feel slipping down my throat, and talking about it made it worse. Even now, when there were no souls near me, I could feel the pull—the need to cave to the urge. Like a junkie after a fix. My muscles cramped in warning. I pushed against his chest. “No. I don’t want that.”

“The one before you never denied what she was.” His voice then took on that soft, teasing quality again. “Do you know anything about her—about your heritage, Layla?” he said, and then his arm slipped around my waist, fitting my body against his. “Do you know anything about what you are?”

“Do you know anything about personal space?” I snapped.

“No.” He smirked, and then his eyes seemed to turn luminous. “But I do know that you really don’t mind me in your personal space.”

“Keep trying to convince yourself of that.” I sucked in a breath, forcing myself to meet his stare. “Being this close to you makes me want to shave off layers of my skin.”

Roth laughed softly. His head tipped down and suddenly our lips were inches apart. If he had a soul, he’d be entering dangerous territory. “I don’t need to do any convincing. I’m a demon.”

“Duh,” I murmured, my gaze now fixed on his mouth.

“Then you know that demons can smell human emotions.”

They could. I’d missed out on that ability, though. I could smell burnt food a mile away, as helpful as that was.

The corners of his lips tipped higher. “Fear has a sharp, bitter scent. I can smell that on you. Anger is like a chili pepper—it’s hot and it burns. And I can smell that, too.” Roth paused, and somehow, he was even closer. So close that when he spoke next, his lips brushed the corner of mine. “Ah, yes...and then there’s attraction. Sweet, tangy and heavy—it’s my favorite of them all. And guess what?”

I strained back against the wall. “You do not smell that on me, buddy.”

He reclaimed the distance with little effort. “That’s the funny thing about denial. It makes for a really bad weapon. You can say you’re not attracted to me all you want and maybe you don’t even know it yet, but I know differently.”

My mouth dropped open. “You need to get your demon nose looked at, then, because it’s seriously broken.”

Roth leaned back, tapping a long finger on the tip of my nose. “This has never lied before.” But he did step away. Though the smug grin remained on his face like his lips had been made for it, his next words were laced with seriousness. “You need to stop tagging.”

Grateful for the breathing room, I let out a ragged breath and clutched the edges of the sink. Now it made sense—this Upper Level demon showing interest in me. “What? Have I tagged too many of your friends?”

One dark brow arched. “I frankly don’t care how many demons you tag or how many the Wardens send back to Hell. As you can see, your glow-in-the-dark touch doesn’t work on me.”

I frowned as I eyed him. Crap. He was right. And I hadn’t even noticed it until now. Nice.

“It doesn’t work on any Upper Level demon. We’re just too cool for that.” Roth folded muscular arms across his chest. “But back to the whole tagging thing. You need to stop.”

I barked out a short laugh. “Yeah, and why in the world would I do that?”

A bored look crept across his striking features. “I could give you one good reason. The Seeker last night was looking for you.”

My mouth opened, because I’d been preparing another dismissive laugh, but the sound caught in my throat. Fear was back, and rightfully so. Had I heard the demon correctly?

A keen light reflected in his eyes. “Hell is looking for you, Layla. And they’ve found you. Don’t go out tagging.”

My heart pumped painfully as I stared at him. “You’re lying.”

He laughed under his breath. “Let me ask you a question. Did you just have a birthday? Turn seventeen recently? Say, within the past couple of days?”

I could only stare at him. My birthday had been just three days ago, on Saturday. I’d gone out to dinner with Stacey and Sam. Zayne even joined us. During dessert, Stacey had tried to get Zayne to tie a cherry stem with his tongue.

The smirk was back. “And yesterday was the first day you tagged since then, right? Hmm...and a Seeker finds you. Interesting.”

“I don’t see the connection,” I managed. “You’re probably lying, anyway. You’re a demon! You expect me to believe anything you’re saying?”

“And you’re a demon. No—don’t interrupt me with your denial. You’re a demon, Layla.”

“Half,” I muttered.

His eyes narrowed. “You have no reason to think I’m not telling you the truth. I also have a thousand reasons to lie to you, but the whole tagging thing? I’m not kidding. It’s not safe.”

The bell rang, startling me. I stared at him, wishing Hell would open up and welcome him back with open arms.

Roth glanced at the door, frowning. He turned back to me, lips curving into a strange smile. “I mean it. Don’t tag after school.” He pivoted around. At the door, he stopped and looked over his shoulder. His eyes met mine. “By the way, I wouldn’t tell your family about me. I’m afraid you’d find out just how much they really do care for you.”

* * *

My brain was having a hard time processing Roth’s sudden appearance. Telling me that I was attracted to him? Ordering me to stop tagging? Who in the Hell did he think he was? First off, he was a demon—a hot demon—but ew. There was no reason for me to believe anything he said. Second, he wasn’t just any demon, but an Upper Level one. Double the reason not to trust him.

He might have been right when he said I didn’t know a lot about my heritage, but I knew my demons. Hundreds of years ago, there’d been a race of them that could pluck up a soul just by touching a human. They’d been called the Lilin, and they’d been wiped off the planet by the Wardens. Sure, there were still succubi and incubi who fed off the energy of humans, but in this day and age, the ability to completely take a soul was rare. Abilities and traits in the demon world were hereditary, just like in the human world.

The first stirring of unease I’d felt upon hearing Roth’s words tripled.

If the other demon he’d mentioned, “the one before me,” was my mom and she was still alive... I couldn’t even finish that thought without my chest squeezing. Because even though mommy dearest was a demon, the fact that she hadn’t wanted me still hurt. The only good that could come out of discovering who she was would be learning what kind of demon she was, and who knew if that would actually be a good thing.

At lunch, I managed to convince Stacey that faking sick had been my last-minute solution to getting out of the bio exam. She bombarded me with questions, wanting to know how I’d met Roth.

“Met who?” Sam asked, shrugging off his backpack and sitting down next to us.

“No one,” I muttered.

“Whatever. Layla ditched us last night so she could shack up with this superhot new guy.” Stacey pointed her square slice of pizza at me. “You dirty ho. I’m so envious.”

“Layla hooked up with someone?” Sam laughed as he popped open his soda. “Was it a Warden? Wow.”

Pulled back into the present, I frowned. “No. It wasn’t a Warden. And what the Hell is that supposed to mean?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. I just can’t picture you hooking up with anyone.” He took his glasses off, using his shirt to rub them clean. “And I assumed he was a Warden or something. Who else gets Stacey all crazy?”

Stacey took a bite of her pizza. “He was...wow.”

“Hold on a sec. Why can’t you picture me hooking up with anyone?” I sat back in the chair. I had this ridiculous urge to prove I was hookup material.

Sam shifted uncomfortably. “It’s not that people wouldn’t want to hook up with you.... It’s that, well, you know...”

“No. I don’t know. Please elaborate, Samuel.”

Stacey sighed, taking pity on him. “What Sam is trying to say is that we can’t picture you hooking up with anyone because you don’t really pay attention to guys that way.”

I started to disagree, because I totally paid attention to guys. But I was always on the sidelines, which probably made me seem uninterested. The truth was I was so interested. It was just that I couldn’t have a relationship with anyone who had a soul, and that really limited the whole dating pool.

“I hate you both,” I grumbled, attacking my pizza with a vengeance.

“All right, as much as I love talking about hot guys, can we change the subject?” Sam poked his slice around the plate, watching Stacey from under his lashes. “Guess what I learned last night.”

“That the number of hours you play video games per day equals the number of more years you’ll be a virgin?” she asked.

“Ha. No. Did you guys know that Mel Blanc—the guy who voiced Bugs Bunny—was allergic to carrots?”

We stared at him.

His cheeks flushed. “What? It’s true and it’s also ironic. I mean, Bugs Bunny ran around all the time with a damn carrot in his hand.”

“You are such a fountain of random knowledge,” Stacey murmured, somewhat awestruck. “Where do you keep it all?”

Sam ran a hand through his hair. “In my brain. You have one, too, I think.”

The two kept up the bickering, and after lunch, I spent the rest of the day expecting Roth to pop up and snap my neck, but I didn’t see him at all. I could only hope he’d gotten run over or something.

After the last class of the day, I shoved my books into my locker and hurried outside. Don’t tag? Ha. I was going to be a tagging maniac.

I was just going to be a little more careful about it.

Paying close attention to the demons I spotted as I wandered the D.C. streets, I waited until I was absolutely positive the suckers weren’t going to whip around and morph into waxy, soulless Seekers. In other words, I was being a total stalker. Within an hour, I’d already bagged a Poser and three Fiends.

Fiends were the most common demon topside and they always appeared to be young. Although no less dangerous than Posers or Seekers, they were more into creating mayhem wherever they went than fighting. Their abilities were a smorgasbord of messed-up-ness. Some were little pyro-heads, able to create fires with a snap of their fingers. Others were into mechanical things. Well, they were into breaking down mechanical things, which they could do with just a touch. I could usually find them loitering near construction sites or power grids.

I lit them up, every single one I came across, knowing full well the Wardens would find them later that night. Sometimes, but not often, I wondered if it was unfair that the demons had no clue that after I “accidentally” knocked into them, they had a bull’s-eye on them. But it didn’t stop me.

Demons were evil, no matter how normal they might look.

I just didn’t know what category I fell into.

Tagging three more Fiends by five, I decided it was time to call it a night and found a pay phone. Morris answered with his normal silence, and I asked him to pick me up. He hit the keypad twice, signaling a yes. My totals for the evening weren’t astronomical, but I felt good about them, and as I waited at my usual bench, relief eased the muscles in my neck. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The tagging had been run-of-the-mill.

Since no one tried to play grabby with my head, it proved that Roth was full of it. Now I just needed to figure out what to do about the punk demon. From the moment I’d first begun tagging, I’d been ordered never to interact with Upper Level demons and required to report any possible sighting. Roth was the first one I’d ever seen.

But if I told Abbot about Roth, he would pull me out of school.

I couldn’t have that. School was my only real link to normalcy. High school was Hell on Earth for most, but I loved it. I could pretend to be normal there. And I refused to let a demon—or even Abbot himself—take that from me.

As I waited for Morris, I wished my cell phone wasn’t floating somewhere in the sewers. Damn Roth. Without my cell, I couldn’t even play solitaire. Instead all I could do was people watch, and I’d been doing that since I left school.

Sighing, I sat on my bench and kicked my feet out. I ignored the looks I was getting from an old lady sitting on the other side.

The first tingle that danced along the nape of my neck didn’t really raise any warnings, but as the sensation increased, so did the feeling of restlessness. Twisting around, I scanned the crowd of people hurrying down the sidewalk. A pretty parade of souls hummed along, but in the mix, standing back under the alcove of a thrift store, was a void where no color shone through.

I sat up straight and turned around so quickly that the old lady gasped. I caught a glimpse of a dark suit, pale skin and hair that seemed to stand straight up. It was definitely a demon, but not Roth. The height and width of the man was larger, but there was a flash of golden eyes.

An Upper Level demon.

My heart rate tripled and then a horn blew, causing me to jump. I looked away for only a second, long enough to see that Morris had arrived, but by the time I turned back to where the demon had been standing, he was gone.

* * *

I actually waited for Morris to park the car before I jumped out this time. As we entered the kitchen through the garage, I heard childish giggles and shrieks.

Curious, I turned back to Morris. “Did we turn into a day-care center since this morning?”

Morris slunk past me, smiling.

“Wait. Is Jasmine here with the twins?”

He nodded, which was the best answer I’d get from him.

A big smile pulled at my lips. I forgot about the mess that had been today. Jasmine lived in New York with her mate, and since she’d had the twins, they’d rarely traveled. Female gargoyles were a rarity. Most of them died giving birth, like Zayne’s mother had. And the demons loved to pick them off. Because of that, the females were heavily guarded and well cared for.

Kind of like living in a bejeweled prison, even if they didn’t see it that way.

On the flip side, I did understand the males’ perspective. Without the females, our race couldn’t survive. And without the gargoyles acting as Wardens and keeping the demons in check, what would happen? Demons would take over, plain and simple. Or the Alphas would destroy everything. Happy times.

Thankfully I wasn’t under any kind of protection order. That was why I was able to attend public school when none of the other gargoyles could. Being only half-Warden meant I wasn’t mating material. My purpose in life wasn’t to continue the race. And even if I could mate with a Warden—without taking their soul accidentally—the demonic blood I carried would be passed down, just like the Warden DNA.

And no one wanted that hot mess in their bloodline.

I was more than happy to be able to come and go as I pleased and to help the cause in any way I could, but it was...well, it was hard. I would never truly be a part of the Wardens. And no matter how badly I wanted it, I’d never really be their family.

Something else Roth had been spot-on about.

My chest squeezed as I set my bag on the kitchen table and followed the sound of laughter to the living room. I stepped into the room just as a pint-sized blur of white and gray zoomed past my face. Jumping back, I felt my mouth drop open as a young, dark-haired woman rushed past me, her luminescent spirit trailing behind her.

“Isabelle!” Jasmine yelled. “Get down from there right now!”

The little thing’s soul faded enough for me to see her actual body. Isabelle had ahold of the ceiling fan. One wing flapped while the other drooped to the side as the fan spun her around. Her curly red hair seemed out of place on her chubby gray face. So did the fangs and horns.

“Uh...”

Jasmine stopped and faced me, out of breath. “Oh, Layla. How are you doing?”

I flipped off the switch to the ceiling fan. “Good. You?”

Isabelle giggled as the fan slowed, still flapping that one wing. Jasmine stepped beneath her. “Oh, you know. The twins are two and just learning how to shift. It’s been a real joy.” She grabbed one of Isabelle’s stumpy legs. “Let go—Izzy, let go this instant!”

Yeah, two-year-olds could shift and I couldn’t. Embarrassing. “Did you guys get in yesterday?” I asked, thinking of the gargoyles on the roof.

She wrangled in Isabelle, sitting her down on the floor. “No. We just got here. Dez had to go out of town, so he asked Abbot if we could stay here until the clan returns to New York.”

“Oh.” I peeked behind the couch, spotting the other twin. At first, he was just a little blob of pearly-colored goodness. Then I saw past his soul. He slept in his human form, curled atop a thick blanket. He had his thumb in his mouth. “At least this one is sleeping.”

Jasmine laughed softly. “Drake sleeps through anything. This one—” she picked up Isabelle and sat her on the couch “—doesn’t like to sleep. Isn’t that right, Izzy?”

Isabelle half jumped, half fell off the couch and rushed me. Before I could move, she went down on all fours and sank those sharp little teeth through my flats, biting my toe.

I shrieked, fighting the urge to punt the little freak across the room.

“Izzy!” cried Jasmine, rushing over to us. She grabbed her, but the damn thing had a firm hold on my toe. “Izzy! Do not bite! What have I told you?”

I winced as Jasmine manually removed her daughter’s fangs from my foot. The moment Jasmine put the giggling child down, Isabelle launched herself into the air, straight at me.

“Izzy! Don’t!” her mother yelled.

I caught her, taking a wing in the face. She was surprisingly heavy for a two-year-old. I held her at arm’s length. “It’s okay. She’s not bothering me.” Now.

“I know.” Jasmine floated to my side, wringing her slender hands. “It’s just that...”

As realization sank in, I wanted to crawl into a hole. Jasmine was worried that I’d suck her baby’s soul out. I’d thought Jasmine had grown to trust me after we first met, but when it came to her babies, that trust had jumped out the window. Part of me couldn’t blame her, but...

Sighing, I handed Isabelle over to Jasmine and took a step back. Feeling all kinds of wrong, I forced a smile. “So how long will you be staying here?”

Jasmine cradled the wriggling kid to her chest. Isabelle kept reaching out toward me. “A couple of weeks—a month, tops—and then we’ll head back home.”

Then it struck me. If Jasmine was here, then that meant her younger and totally available sister was here. And she’d be here for weeks. My stomach dropped.

Without saying another word, I wheeled from the room to go on a manhunt—or a female-gargoyle hunt. Whatever. Danika was different from any human girl Zayne might occasionally “date.” Way different.

The soft sound of husky laughter floated out of the library I usually occupied during all my copious spare time. An irrational territorial urge surfaced. As I crossed the sparsely decorated sitting room that no one ever used, my hands balled into fists. Jealousy was a bitter acid sweeping through my veins as I stopped before the closed doors. I had no right to barge in on them, but I was no longer in control of myself.

Danika’s throaty laugh came again, followed by a deeper chuckle. I could picture her tossing her long black hair over her shoulder, smiling the way all girls smiled at Zayne, and I pushed open the door.

They stood so close their souls touched.

CHAPTER FOUR

Zayne leaned against the desk, dusty from disuse, his muscled arms folded across his chest. He had a slight smile on his face—a fond one. And Danika had one hand on his shoulder, her face so bright and happy I wanted to throw up on the both of them. They were the same height, both around the same age. Admittedly, they’d make a beautiful couple and have tons of beautiful babies that would shift and wouldn’t have any tainted blood in them.

I hated her.

Zayne looked up, stiffening as his eyes locked with mine.

“Layla? Is that you?” Danika pulled away from Zayne, smiling as her hand trailed down his chest. A soft, rosy flush covered her high cheekbones. “Your hair has gotten so long.”

My hair hadn’t grown that much since the last time I’d seen her, which was three months ago. “Hey.” I sounded like I’d swallowed a bed of nails.

She came across the library, stopping short of embracing me because we so weren’t on hugging terms. “How have you been? How’s school?”

The fact that Danika actually liked me made it all the more intolerable. “It’s great.”

Zayne pushed off the desk. “Did you need something, Layla-bug?”

I felt like the biggest kind of idiot. “I...just wanted to say hi.” I turned to Danika, my face burning. “Hi.”

Her smile faltered a bit as she glanced at Zayne. “We were just talking about you, actually. Zayne was telling me you were thinking of applying to Columbia?”

I thought about the half-completed college application. “It was a stupid idea.”

Zayne frowned. “I thought you said you were going to do it.”

I shrugged. “What’s the point? I already have a job.”

“Layla, there’s still a point. You don’t have—”

“It’s nothing we need to talk about. Sorry for interrupting.” I cut Zayne off. “I’ll see you guys later.”

I hurried away before I made an even bigger fool out of myself, blinking back hot, humiliating tears. My skin was starting to crawl by the time I made it to the fridge. I shouldn’t have gone looking for them, because I’d known what I’d find. But apparently I was into torturing myself.

Pulling out the carton of OJ, I also grabbed the roll of sugar-cookie dough. The first gulp of juice was the best. I loved the acidic burn. Sugar helped when the cravings to take a soul hit hard. It was a mortifying need, reminding me of drug addicts.

“Layla.”

Closing my eyes, I set the carton on the counter. “Zayne?”

“She’s only going to be here a couple of weeks. You could at least try to be nice to her.”

I twisted around, focusing on his shoulder. “I was being nice to her.”

He laughed. “You sounded like you wanted to bite her head off.”

Or take her soul. “Whatever.” I grabbed a chunk of dough and popped it in my mouth. “You shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

Zayne reached over, taking the dough from my hands. “She went to help Jasmine with the twins.”

“Oh.” I turned away, grabbing a glass out of the cupboard, filling it to the top.

“Layla-bug.” His breath stirred my hair. “Please don’t act like this.”

I sucked in air, wanting to lean back into him, but knowing I never could. “I’m not acting like anything. You should go hang out with Danika.”

Sighing, he placed a hand on my shoulder, turning me back around. His eyes dropped to the glass I held. “Rough day at school, huh?”

I backed up, hitting the counter. The image of Roth cornering me in the bathroom immediately came to mind. “N-no different than any other day.”

Zayne stepped forward, dropping the roll of dough on the counter. “Anything interesting happen?”

Did he know? No, there was no way. He always asked about school. “Um...some girl called me a gargoyle whore.”

“What?”

I shrugged. “It happens. Not a big deal.”

His gaze sharpened. “Who said that to you?”

“It doesn’t matter....” I stopped as he took my glass and watched the muscles of his throat work. He drained half the glass before he handed it back to me. “It’s just something stupid they say.”

“You’re right. It doesn’t matter as long as you don’t let it bother you.”

I shivered, hopelessly drawn into his pale eyes. “I know.”

“Cold?” he murmured. “Somebody turned the air on while we slept.”

“It’s September. It’s not hot enough to run the air.”

Zayne chuckled as he brushed my hair back over my shoulder. “Layla, our body temperatures run differently than yours. Seventy degrees is steamy to us.”

“Mmm. That’s why I like you. You’re warm.”

He took my glass again, but this time he placed it on the counter. Then he grabbed my hand, pulling me toward him. “That’s why you like me? Because I’m warm?”

“I guess so.”

“I thought for sure there were other reasons,” he teased.

My earlier irritation faded. I found myself smiling at him. Zayne always had that effect on me. “Well, you do help me with my homework.”

His brows shot up. “Is that all?”

“Hmm.” I pretended to think about it. “You’re pretty to look at. Does that make you feel better?”

Zayne gaped. “I’m pretty to look at?”

I giggled. “Yeah. Stacey also said you’re the awesome sauce with an extra side of sauce.”

“Really?” He pulled me into his side and draped his arm over my shoulder. It was like being in a headlock, except my body tingled all over. “Do you think I’m the awesome sauce?”

“Sure,” I gasped.

“How about with extra sauce?”

My cheeks flushed. So did other parts of my body. “I...guess so.”

“You guess so?” He leaned back, putting maybe two inches between us. “I think you do.”

To my relief, my face didn’t feel like it was on fire.

He laughed softly, pulling my hand off my face. “You’re done tagging already?”

I blinked slowly. What was he talking about?

The door to the kitchen opened behind us. Zayne dropped my hand as he looked over his shoulder, but his arm remained. He grinned. “Hey, old man.”

I twisted around. Abbot stood in the doorway, eyeing his son blandly. He always reminded me of a lion. His hair was lighter than Zayne’s, but just as long. I imagined he shared a lot of the same features as his son, but half his face was always covered by a thick beard.

If I looked up the definition of intimidating, it would show a picture of Abbot. As the clan leader, he had to be fierce, stern and, at times, deadly. He represented the clan, was the one who met with human officials, and if any of the Wardens messed up, it was Abbot who took the fall. A lot of weight rested on his shoulders, but his back never bowed under the pressure.

Abbot’s gaze slid to me. His normally warm eyes were like chips of pale blue ice. “Layla, the school called here this afternoon.”

I pursed my lips. “Uh...”

“I was able to get in touch with a Mrs. Cleo before she left for the evening.” He folded thick arms across his chest. “She claimed that you ran out of class during an exam. Care to explain why?”

My brain emptied.

Zayne’s head jerked up, and without looking, I knew he was frowning. “Why did you run out of class?” he asked.

“I...wasn’t feeling well.” I gripped the edge of the island. “I didn’t eat this morning and I got sick.”

“Are you feeling okay now?” he pressed.

I glanced at him. Concern touched his expression. “Yeah, I’m all better.”

He glanced over at my forgotten glass of orange juice. A strange look flickered over his face. Without saying a word, he dropped his arm and headed around the island.

“I told this Mrs. Cleo that I was sure you had a good reason for leaving class,” Abbot continued. “She agreed such behavior was out of character and has decided to let you make up your exam after school on Friday.”

Typically I would have whined about having to spend extra time in school, but I wisely kept my mouth shut. “I’m really sorry.”

Abbot’s eyes softened. “Next time make sure you let the teacher know you’re sick. And call Morris so that you can come home and rest.”

Now I really felt bad. I shifted my weight back and forth. “Okay.”

Zayne returned to my side, OJ in hand. There was a drawn, brooding pull to his features. He handed me the glass, watching until I finished it off. I felt even worse.

Abbot rested his arms against the counter. “Have you been spending time with Danika, Zayne?”

“Hmm?” Zayne’s eyes were still on me.

“You know,” I said, setting the glass down, “the girl who was almost standing on top of you in the library.”

Zayne’s full lips thinned.

Abbot chuckled. “Good to see you two getting along. You know she’s of mating age, Zayne, and it’s time you think about settling down.”

I tried to keep my expression blank as I stared at the empty glass. Zayne settling down? I wanted to hurl.

Zayne groaned. “Father, I just turned twenty-one. Give it a rest.”

Abbot arched a brow. “I mated with your mother when I was your age. It’s hardly out of the question.”

I made a face. “Can’t we say ‘marry’? Saying ‘mate’ out loud just sounds gross.”

“This isn’t your world, Layla. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

Ouch. I flinched back.

Zayne exhaled roughly. “Father, this is her world. She’s a Warden, too.”

Abbot moved from the counter, brushing his hair back. “If she did understand, the use of the word mating would not disturb her. The bonds of marriage are breakable. Mating is for life. Something you—” he looked at Zayne pointedly “—need to start taking seriously. Our clan is dwindling.”

Zayne tipped his head back and sighed. “What are you suggesting? That I should go out there right now and devote my life to Danika? Does she have a say in this?”

“I doubt Danika would be displeased.” Abbot smiled knowingly. “And yes, I’m suggesting you mate very soon. You aren’t getting any younger, and neither am I. You may not love her now, but you’ll grow to.”

“What?” Zayne laughed.

“I felt...a fondness for your mother when I first mated with her.” He rubbed his beard-covered chin thoughtfully. “I did grow to love her. If only we’d had more time together...”

Zayne seemed unaffected by the whole exchange, but I felt close to tears. I murmured something about homework before leaving the kitchen. I didn’t need to wait around to see how the conversation wrapped up. Whatever Zayne thought or wanted didn’t matter. It hadn’t mattered for Abbot or Zayne’s mother.

And it sure as Hell didn’t matter what I wanted.

* * *

The application to Columbia University stared at me from the floor. Scattered beside it were more college applications. Money wasn’t an issue. Neither were my grades. Since I couldn’t serve the clan by producing more Wardens, my future was my own. Those applications should’ve filled me with excitement and joy. But the idea of moving away, of becoming someone new and different, was as frightening as it was enthralling.

And now, when I finally had the chance to leave, I didn’t want to.

It didn’t make any sense. I tucked my hair back and stood. My schoolwork lay on the bed forgotten. If I was honest with myself for two seconds, I’d admit I knew why I didn’t want to leave. It was Zayne, and that was stupid. Abbot had been right earlier. It didn’t matter how much Warden blood I shared, this wasn’t my world. I was kind of like a guest who never left.

I looked around my room. It had everything a girl could want. My own desktop computer and laptop, TV and stereo system, more clothes than I’d ever wear and enough books to lose myself in.

But it was all just stuff...empty.

Unable to stay in my bedroom, I left with no real plan in mind. I just needed to get out of the room—out of the house. Downstairs, I could hear Jasmine and Danika in the kitchen making dinner. The scent of roasted potatoes and the sound of laughter filled the air. Was Zayne with them, cooking alongside Danika?

How sweet.

I passed Morris on the front porch. He glanced up from his newspaper with a questioning look, but that was all. I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans and inhaled the scent of decayed leaves and the faint trace of the city’s smog.

I cut across the manicured yard, past the stone wall that separated Abbot’s property from the woods surrounding the compound. Zayne and I had made this trip so many times as kids that a path had been carved through the grass and rocky soil. We’d escaped here together—me running from the loneliness and Zayne avoiding the rigorous trainings and all the expectations.

When we were younger, the fifteen-minute hike felt like we’d managed to disappear into a different world full of thick cherry trees and maples. It had been our place. Back then, I couldn’t imagine a life that didn’t include him.

I stopped under the tree house Abbot had built for Zayne long before I came along. There wasn’t anything special about it. Kind of like a hut in the trees, but it had this cool eight-by-eight observation deck. Climbing a tree was a Hell of a lot easier when I was a little kid. It took several tries to get into the main part. From there, I crawled through a door roughed into the treated wood. I inched across the platform gingerly, hoping it didn’t cave in.

Death by tree house didn’t sound like an exciting way to go.

Lying down, I wondered why I’d come here. Was it some twisted way of wanting to be close to Zayne, or did I just want to be a kid again? To go back to a time when I didn’t know that seeing colors shimmering around people meant that I wasn’t like other Wardens...before I learned that I had tainted blood. Things were easier then. I didn’t think about Zayne the way I did now or spend my evenings touching random strangers. I also didn’t have an Upper Level demon in my bio class.

A cool breeze picked up a few strands of my hair, tossing them across my face. I shivered and hunkered down in my sweater. For some reason, I remembered what Roth had said about Abbot using me for my ability.

It’s not true.

I pulled the necklace out from underneath my sweater. The chain was old and thick. It had a series of ropy loops I knew by heart. In the waning light, I couldn’t make out the etchings on the silver ring. Endless knots had been carved into the metal band by someone who obviously had too much time on their hands. I turned the ring over. I’d never seen anything like the gemstone set in the center. It was deep red, almost like a ruby, but the color was off in some areas, darker in others. Sometimes, depending on how I held the ring, it looked as if there was liquid inside the oval stone.

Supposedly the ring had belonged to my mother.

My memories prior to the night Abbot found me were nothing but a blank void. This ring was the only thing that tied me to my real family.

Family was such a strange word. I wasn’t even sure I’d had a family to start off with. Had I been with my father at some point, before the foster home? Who knew? And if Abbot did, he wasn’t telling. My life started when Abbot found me.

I closed my eyes, inhaling slowly and deeply. Now wasn’t the time for self-reflection or a pity party. I tucked the ring back under my sweater, figuring I needed to focus on what I was going to do about Roth.

I was on my own with this one. Ignore him? Sounded like a good idea, but I doubted it would work. Part of me hoped he’d just disappear after warning me not to tag.

I must’ve dozed off at some point during my plotting, because when I opened my eyes, the sky was dark, my nose was cold and someone was lying beside me.

My heart jumped into my throat, then skipped a beat when I turned my head and soft hair tickled my cheek. “Zayne?”

One eye opened. “What a strange place to nap when you have this great thing called a bed.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“You didn’t come down for dinner.” He lifted his hand and removed a strand of my hair that had drifted across his face. “After a while, I decided to check on you. You weren’t in your room, and when I asked Morris if he’d seen you, he pointed toward the woods.”

I scrubbed my eyes, clearing away the remnants of my impromptu nap. “What time is it?”

“Almost nine-thirty.” He paused. “I was worried about you.”

My brows furrowed. “Why?”

Zayne tilted his head toward mine. “Why did you leave class today?”

I stared at him a moment, then I remembered the strange look on his face when he’d seen the glass of OJ. “I wasn’t about to suck out a soul, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He frowned. “Whenever you’re craving something sweet—”

“I know.” I turned my gaze to the sky. The stars peeked out from behind the thick branches. “Nothing happened at school today, I swear.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Okay. That wasn’t the only reason I was worried.”

I sighed. “I’m not going to murder Danika in her sleep.”

Zayne let out a deep laugh. “I’d hope not. Dad would be pissed if you killed my mate.”

Hearing that, I decided there may be a good chance I would kill her. “So now you’re down with the whole mating thing? Going to start making little gargoyle babies soon? That should be fun.”

He laughed again, which pissed me off. “Layla-bug, what do you know about making babies?”

I punched him in the stomach as I sat up. His low chuckle turned into a grunt. “I’m not a freaking kid, you ass. I know what sex is.”

Zayne reached up and pinched my cheek. “You’re like this little—”

I slammed him in the stomach again.

He caught my arm, hauling me to his chest. “Stop being so violent,” he murmured lazily.

“Then stop being such an ass.” I bit my lower lip.

“I know you’re not a kid anymore.”

An incredible heat swept through me, odd for such a chilly night. “Whatever. You treat me like I’m ten.”

A moment passed and his hand tightened around my arm. “How am I supposed to treat you?”

I wished I had something sexy and flirty to say. Instead I mumbled, “I don’t know.”

A corner of his mouth turned up. “Danika’s not my mate, by the way. I was also joking about that.”

I tried to look totally unaffected. “It’s what your father wants.”

He looked away, sighing. “Anyway, what were we talking about? Oh, yeah. I was worried about where you were because Elijah’s here.”

I stiffened, forgetting about Danika. “What?”

He closed his eyes. “Yeah, he was one of the group that came in last night. I thought they’d be leaving today, but they’re hanging around awhile.”

Elijah Faustin belonged to the clan that monitored demon activity along most of the southern coast. He and his son acted like I was the antichrist. “Is Petr with him?”

“Yeah.”

My head drooped. Petr was the worst kind of boy. “Why are they here?”

“He’s being relocated to the Northeast along with his son and four others.”

“So he’s going to stay here until Dez gets back?”

Zayne met my stare, his expression suddenly hard. “Petr will not go anywhere near you. I promise you that.”

My stomach knotted up. Pulling free, I rolled onto my back. I drew in a shallow breath. “I thought Abbot told them they weren’t welcome back here.”

“He did, Layla. Father isn’t happy about them being here, but he can’t turn them away.” Zayne moved onto his side, facing me. “Do you remember when we used to pretend this was an observation deck for NASA?”

“I remember you dangling me off the edge a couple of times.”

Zayne nudged me. “You loved it. You were always jealous that I could fly and you couldn’t.”

I cracked a smile. “Who wouldn’t be jealous of that?”

He grinned as he looked over his shoulder. “God, it’s been years since we’ve been up here.”

“I know.” I stretched out my legs, wriggling my toes inside the sneakers. “I kind of miss it.”

“Same here.” Zayne tugged on the sleeve of my sweater. “We still on for Saturday?”

For years, we’d been visiting a different coffee shop every Saturday morning. He’d keep himself awake to do so, prolonging the moment when he’d return to his room and assume his real form, the one that allowed him to sleep. The only true rest a gargoyle gained was when they turned to stone. “Of course.”

“Oh. I almost forgot.” He sat up, reaching into the pocket of his jeans. He held a slender rectangular object in his hand. “I did pick this up for you today.”

I grabbed the cell out of his hands, squealing. “It’s a touch screen! Oh, my God, I promise I won’t break it or lose it. Thank you!”

Zayne rolled to his feet. “I went ahead and charged it. All you have to do is program your numbers in there.” He grinned down at me. “I took the liberty of programming my number as your first contact.”

I stood and hugged him. “Thank you. You are the awesome sauce.”

He laughed, easing his arms around me. “Ah, I have to buy your love. I see.”

“No! Not at all. I’d—” I stopped myself before I said something I couldn’t take back, and lifted my gaze. Half of his face was shadowed, but there was a strange look in his eyes. “I mean, you’d still be cool even if you hadn’t bought me the phone.”

Zayne tucked my hair back behind my ear, his hand lingering on my cheek. Bending at the waist, he pressed his forehead against mine. I felt him take a deep breath, and his hand flattened against the small of my back.

“Make sure you keep the balcony doors in your bedroom locked,” he said finally, his voice deeper than normal. “And try not to roam around the house in the middle of the night. Okay?”

“Okay.”

He didn’t move. A slow burn started to slither under my skin, different than my body reacting to his. I forced myself to take a shallow breath, to focus on Zayne, but my eyes drifted shut. I tried to stop it from happening, but my imagination took hold and ran wild. I pictured his soul—his very spirit—warming the cold, empty places inside me. It would feel better than a kiss, better than anything. I swayed, my body leaning toward his, drawn in by two very different wants.

Zayne dropped his hands, backing off. “Are you okay?”

A tide of hot mortification burned through me. Stepping back, I held the phone between us. “Yeah, I’m fine. We—we should head back.”

He studied me a moment, then nodded. I watched him turn and duck back into the tree house. I held my breath, waiting until I heard him drop to the ground below.

I couldn’t continue living like this.

But what choice did I have? Go full-throttle demon? That would never be an option.

“Layla?” he called out.

“I’m coming.” I lifted my head, and as I started forward, something caught my attention. Frowning, I squinted at the tree branch directly above the observation deck. Something wasn’t right about it. The branch seemed thicker, shinier.

Then I saw it.

Curled around the branch was an abnormally long and thick snake. Its diamond-shaped head turned down, and from where I stood, I could see the unmistakable red gleam of the snake’s eyes.

I jumped back, gasping.

“What’s going on up there?” Zayne asked.

I glanced down for maybe two seconds—that was all—but when I looked up, the snake was gone.

CHAPTER FIVE

By the time I followed Stacey into bio, I wanted to smack her. She wouldn’t stop talking about Roth. Like I needed any help wondering if he’d actually show up today. I’d stayed up all night thinking about that damn snake in the tree. Had it been there the whole time, watching me as I slept and listening to my conversation with Zayne?

Creepy.

All of it was made worse by the reminder of how Roth had pressed against me in the bathroom. Because when I thought of him, I thought of how that had felt. No one really got that close to me. Not even Zayne. I wanted to crawl inside my own head, surgically remove the memory and then douse my brain with Clorox.

“He better be,” Stacey was saying as she threw herself into her seat. “I didn’t sneak out of the house dressed like this for no good reason.”

“No doubt.” I eyed her short skirt and then her cleavage. “We wouldn’t want your boobs to go to waste.”

She gave me a sly smile. “I want him to think about me all night.”

I pulled out my textbook, dropping it on the desk. “No, you don’t.”

“I’ll decide that for myself.” She shifted, tugging her skirt down. “Anyway, I can’t believe you don’t find him hot. There’s something wrong with you.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me.” I looked at her, but her eyes were glued to the door. I sighed. “Stacey, he’s really not a good guy.”

“Mmm. Even better.”

“I’m being serious. He’s...he’s dangerous. So don’t get any perverted ideas in your head.”

“Too late.” She paused, frowning. “Did he do something to you?”

“It’s just a feeling I have.”

“I have a lot of feelings when I think about him.” She leaned forward, planting her elbows on the table and cupping her chin in her hands. “Lots of feelings.”

I rolled my eyes. “What about Sam? He’s totally in love with you. He’d be a better choice.”

“What?” She scrunched her nose. “He is not.”

“Seriously, he is.” I started doodling on the book, keeping my attention off the door. “He’s always staring at you.”

Stacey laughed. “He didn’t even bat an eye when he saw my skirt—”

“Or lack thereof.”

“Exactly. Now, if I wore a binary code on my legs, then he’d notice me.”

Mrs. Cleo shuffled in, ending our conversation. I almost keeled over, the relief was that powerful. I didn’t even care when Mrs. Cleo eyed me strangely. Roth was gone, I thought, drawing giant smiley faces all over a diagram. Maybe his stupid snake ate him.

Stacey’s arm thudded off the desk. “I guess today is just going to suck.”

“Sorry,” I chirped, twirling my pen between my fingers. “Wanna grab—”

The door swung open just as Mrs. Cleo wheeled out the overhead projector. Roth strolled into class, bio book in hand and a cocky smile plastered across his face. The pen slipped out of my grip, flinging forward and smacking the head of a girl sitting two seats in front of me. She whirled around, throwing up her hands as she shot me a dirty look.

Stacey popped up in her seat, emitting a low squeal.

Winking at Mrs. Cleo, he edged past her. She just shook her head and fiddled with her notes. All eyes were on Roth as he sauntered down the center aisle. Jaws dropped and girls turned in their seats. Some of the guys did, too.

“Hey there,” he murmured to Stacey.

“Hi.” Her elbows slid across the desk.

Then he turned those golden eyes on me. “Good morning.”

“My day is made,” Stacey whispered, grinning at Roth as he dropped his book and sat.

“Good for you,” I snapped, digging another pen out of my bag.

Mrs. Cleo flipped off the lights. “I haven’t graded the tests yet, since some of you will be making up those tests on Friday. Expect your grades and any extra-credit assignments to be handed out on Monday.”

Several students groaned while I pictured stabbing my pen into the back of Roth’s head.

What had I planned last night? Not a damn thing, because I fell asleep while plotting on the observation deck.

About ten minutes into Mrs. Cleo’s dry lecture about cell respiration, Stacey stopped bouncing in her seat. I still hadn’t taken my eyes off Roth. He didn’t even bother pretending to take notes. At least I held a pen in my hand.

He tipped his chair back until it rested against our table, planting his elbows on my textbook to support his precarious position. Once again, I smelled something sweet, like sugary wine or dark chocolate.

I considered moving his arms, but that would require me to touch him. I could poke him in the arm with my pen—hard. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing really nice arms. Smooth skin stretched over well-defined biceps. And there was Bambi, curling around his arm. I leaned forward, somewhat fascinated by the detail. Each ripple in the snake’s skin had been shaded so that it actually looked three dimensional. The underbelly was gray and soft-looking, but I doubted Roth’s skin would be very soft. It looked as hard as Warden skin.

The tattoo looked so real.

Because it is real, you idiot.

Just then, the tail twitched and slid over his elbow.

Gasping, I jerked back in my seat. Stacey shot me a weird look.

Roth turned his head. “What are you doing back there?”

My eyes narrowed on him.

“Are you staring at me?”

“No!” I whispered, lying through my teeth.

He eased the chair down, sparing Mrs. Cleo a brief glance before turning sideways in his seat. “I think you are.”

Stacey leaned over, grinning. “She was.”

I shot her a hateful look. “I was not.”

Roth eyed Stacey with renewed interest. “She was? And what was she staring at?”

“I really don’t know,” Stacey whispered back. “I was too busy staring at your face to notice.”

A pleased grin appeared. “Stacey, right?”

She leaned into me. “That’s me.”

I pushed her back to her side, rolling my eyes. “Turn around,” I ordered.

His eyes met mine. “I will when you tell me what you were staring at.”

“Not at you.” I glanced at the front of the room. Mrs. Cleo flipped over her notes. “Turn around before you get us in trouble.”

Roth dipped his head. “Oh, you’d love the kind of trouble I’d get you in.”

Stacey sighed—or moaned. “I bet we would.”

I clenched the pen. “No. We. Would. Not.”

“Speak for yourself, sister.” Stacey popped the edge of her pen in her mouth.

He smirked at Stacey. “I like your friend.”

The pen cracked in my hand. “Well, I don’t like you.”

Roth chuckled as he finally turned back around. The rest of the class went like that. Every so often he’d look back at us and grin or whisper something entirely infuriating. When Mrs. Cleo finally turned the overhead lights on, I was ready to scream.

Stacey only blinked, looking like she was coming out of some kind of bizarre trance. I scribbled hobag across her notes. She laughed and wrote virgin ice princess across mine.

When the bell rang, I already had my stuff packed, ready to make a clean exit. I needed air—preferably air that Roth wasn’t sharing. Surprisingly enough, he was already out the door by the time I stood, walking so fast he appeared to be on some sort of mission. Maybe Hell had called him back home? I could only hope.

“What is your problem?” asked Stacey.

I brushed past her, scooping long strands of hair out from underneath my bag’s strap. “What? I have a problem because I’m not in heat?”

She made a face. “Well, that just sounds gross.”

“You’re gross,” I threw over my shoulder.

Stacey caught up with me. “Honestly, you have to explain to me what your problem is with him. I don’t get it. Did he ask you to be his baby mama?”

“What?” I made a face. “I already told you. He’s just bad news.”

“My favorite kind of news,” she said as we filed out of the door, “is bad-news boys.”

I gripped my bag tighter as a sea of pink and blue souls filled the hallway. A banner hung down, interrupting the flow of the pastel rainbow. “Since when did you start liking bad boys? All your past boyfriends qualified for sainthood.”

“Since yesterday,” she quipped.

“Well, that’s really...” I stopped by the row of lockers, wrinkling my nose. “Do you smell that?”

Stacey sniffed the air, then immediately groaned. “God, it smells like raw sewage. Probably the damn bathroom’s backed up.”

Other students were starting to pick up on the scent of rotten eggs and soured meat. There were giggles, a few gags. Apprehension stirred in my chest. The smell was foul—too foul—and I couldn’t believe it was only now that I was smelling it.

I was going to blame Roth for that, too.

“You’d think they’d cancel classes with a smell like that.” Stacey started to tug her shirt up as a shield, but must’ve realized there wasn’t enough material there. She clamped her hand over her mouth, muffling her voice. “This cannot be safe.”

A teacher stood outside his class, waving his hand in front of his face. My eyes burned as I turned away from him, trailing behind Stacey. In the stairwell, the smell was stronger.

Stacey glanced at me on the landing. “See you at lunch?”

“Yeah,” I replied, stepping out of the way of several taller and bigger seniors. I looked like a freshman standing in their way.

She tugged on the hem of her skirt again with her free hand. “Hopefully the smell is gone by then. If not, I’m starting a protest.”

Before I could respond, she was bounding up the stairs. I headed down the steps to the first floor, trying not to gag.

“What the Hell is that smell?” asked a petite girl with a lilac-colored soul. Her hair was blond and pixie short.

“I don’t know,” I murmured absently. “Our lunch?”

The girl laughed. “Wouldn’t surprise me.” Then she frowned, squinting at me. “Hey. Aren’t you the girl who lives with the Wardens?”

I sighed, wishing the mass of bodies on the steps in front of me would move faster. “Yes.”

Her brown eyes widened. “Eva Hasher said you and the old black dude who’s always picking you up from school are their human servants.”

My mouth dropped open. “What?”

She nodded vigorously. “That’s what Eva told me in history class.”

“I’m not a servant and neither is Morris,” I exclaimed. “I’m adopted. And Morris is part of the family. Big difference.”

“Whatever,” she said, pushing around me.

A servant? As if. A darker pink soul with stripes of red crept into my vision—Gareth Richmond. The boy who maybe stared at my butt.

“This place reeks.” He held his notebook over his mouth. “You know the gym is going to smell even worse. Think they’ll cancel class, Layla?”

Huh, he did know my name.

He lowered his notebook, revealing a megawatt smile. The kind I imagined he used on many girls. “They can’t expect us to run laps breathing this crap. You’re a pretty good runner, by the way. Why didn’t you ever go out for track or something?”

“You...watch me run in class?” I wanted to smack myself after saying that. It sounded like I’d accused him of being a creeper. “I mean, I didn’t know you paid attention. Not that you’d pay attention. I just didn’t know you knew I could run.”

He glanced down the stairs, laughing.

I needed to shut up.

“Yeah, I’ve seen you run.” Gareth caught the door before it smacked into us, holding it open. “I’ve seen you walk, too.”

I couldn’t tell if he was teasing or flirting. Or if he just thought I was an idiot. Honestly, I didn’t care because all I could think of was Stacey suggesting I hook up with Gareth to start a war with Eva. Talk about awkward thoughts.

“So what are you doing after school?” he asked, falling into step beside me.

Tagging demons. “Um...I’ve got some errands I have to take care of.”

“Oh.” He tapped his notebook off his thigh. “I’ve got football practice after class. I’ve never seen you at any of the games.”

I looked at the empty trophy case by the double doors leading to the gym. “Football isn’t really my thing.”

“That’s a bust. I always throw a party at my parents’ house after the games. You’d know that if—”

Someone tall, wearing all black, materialized between us. “She’d know that if she cared, but I doubt she does.”

I stepped back quickly, startled by Roth’s sudden reappearance.

Gareth had the same response. He was a tall boy, big and brawny, but Roth exuded a kick-ass air. The human boy clamped his mouth shut. Without another word, he inched around us and hurried into the gym, the doors swinging shut behind him. I stood there, dumbfounded as the first warning bell rang. It sounded far away.

“Was it something I said?” Roth mused. “I was just pointing out the obvious.”

Slowly, I lifted my head and looked at him.

“What?” He grinned impishly. “Come on. You don’t look like the type of girl who watches football, hangs out with the cool crowd and ends up deflowered by the senior jock in the back of his daddy’s Beamer.”

“Deflowered?”

“Yeah, you know. Losing that pesky thing called virginity.”

Fire swept over my skin. I pivoted around, heading toward the gym doors. Wasn’t like I didn’t know what deflowered meant. I just couldn’t believe he’d actually used that word in the twenty-first century.

Or that I was even having a conversation about virginity with him.

Roth caught my arm. “Hey. That’s a compliment. Trust me. He’s on the fast track to Hell anyway. Just like his daddy.”

“Good to know,” I managed to respond coolly, “but would you please let go of my arm? I have to get to class.”

“I’ve got a better idea.” Roth leaned in. Dark locks of hair fell into those golden eyes. “You and I are going to have some fun.”

My teeth hurt from how hard I was grinding them. “Not in this lifetime, buddy.”

He looked offended. “What do you think I’m suggesting? I wasn’t planning on getting you drunk and having my way with you in the back of a Beamer like Gareth is. Then again, I guess it could be worse. He could be planning it in the back of a Kia.”

I blinked. “What?”

Roth shrugged, dropping my arm. “Some girl named Eva has him convinced that you put out after one beer.”

“What?” My voice was as shrill as the ringing tardy bell.

“I personally don’t believe it,” he went on blithely, “and I have a Porsche. Not as much leg room as a Beamer, but so much hotter, I’m told.”

Porsches were hot, but that wasn’t the point. “That bitch told him I put out after one beer?”

“Meow.” Roth clawed the air, which looked as ridiculous as it sounded. “Anyway, this is not the fun I had in mind.”

I was still stuck on the whole “putting out” thing. “She told another girl I was a freaking servant. I guess I’m a servant who puts out. Oh! And I guess I’m a lightweight, too. I’m gonna kill—”

Roth snapped his fingers in my face. “Focus. Forget about Eva and one-minute boy. We have something we need to do.”

“Don’t snap your fingers at me,” I snarled. “I’m not a dog.”

“No.” He smiled a little. “You’re a half demon who lives with a bunch of stone freaks that kill demons.”

“You’re the freak, and I’m late for class.” I started to turn from him, but remembered last night. “Oh. And keep your stupid snake on a leash.”

“Bambi comes and goes as she pleases. I can’t help it if she likes hanging out in your tree house.”

My hands curled into fists. “Don’t come near my house again. The Wardens will kill you.”

Roth tipped his head back, laughing deeply. It was a nice laugh, dark and throaty—which made it all the more infuriating. “Oh, there’d be killing, but I wouldn’t be the one doing the dying.”

I swallowed. “Are you threatening my family?”

“No.” He caught my hand this time, easing my fingers out of their fist and then twining them through his own. “Anyway, you can’t tell me you haven’t smelled the funk that is this high school right now.”

Clamping my mouth shut, I glared at him. “What? It’s just the sewer or...”

He looked at me like I was about three different kinds of stupid, and my initial suspicions concerning the smell resurfaced. “It can’t be...”

“Oh, it is. There’s a zombie in the school.” A brow arched. “Sounds like the start of a really bad horror movie.”

I ignored the last statement. “That can’t be it. How would one get in here without being seen?”

Roth shrugged. “Who knows? Anything is possible these days. My demon spidey senses are telling me it’s in one of the boiler rooms downstairs. And since your Warden friends are probably sleeping, I figured we’d check it out before it makes its way upstairs and starts eating students.”

I dug in my heels as he started forward. “I’m not checking anything out with you.”

“But there’s a zombie in the school,” he said slowly, “and it’s probably hungry.”

“And yeah, I know this, but you and I aren’t doing anything.”

His smile faded. “Aren’t you at all curious why a zombie would be in your school and what people are going to think when they see something straight from Night of the Living Dead?”

I met his stare. “It’s not my problem.”

“It’s not.” Roth tipped his head to the side, eyes narrowed. “But it will be the Warden leader’s problem when it stumbles upstairs and starts oozing bodily fluids all over everyone while it chomps on body parts. You know how those Alphas expect the Wardens to keep the whole demon thing out of the public eye.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but stopped. Dammit. He was right. If that thing made its way upstairs, Abbot would be in a world of trouble. Yet still I stalled. “How do I know you aren’t going to throw me at it?”

Roth arched a brow. “Hey, I didn’t abandon you to the Seeker, now did I?”

“That doesn’t reassure me.”

He rolled his eyes, sighing. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”

I laughed. His head snapped in my direction, eyes slightly wide. “Trust you? A demon? Are you on crack or something?”

His eyes glimmered with...what? Annoyance or amusement? “Crack is whack.”

I pressed my lips together tightly, stopping the smile before it could spread across my face and give him the wrong idea. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

He tipped his chin up. “It’s true. No drugs while on the job. Even Hell has its guidelines.”

“What is your job exactly?” I asked.

“To deflower you in the back of the most expensive car ever made.”

I tried to jerk my hand back, but he held on. “Let go.”

“Christ on a crutch.” He chuckled deeply. “I was just joking, you prude.”

Now I flushed again, because I did feel like a prude. A natural feeling when I’d never kissed a guy before. “Let go of my hand.”

Roth heaved a long sigh. “Look. I’m so—I’m sor...” He took a deep breath, trying again. “I’m sorr...”

I turned my head toward him, waiting. “You’re what? Sorry?”

He looked chagrined, lips pursed. “I’m...sorr-ree.”

“Oh, give me a break. You can’t say I’m sorry?”

“No.” He looked me straight on, serious. “It’s not in a demon’s vocab.”

“That’s rich.” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t even bother trying to say it if you don’t mean it.”

Roth appeared to consider that. “Deal.”

A door across from the gym opened. Assistant Principal McKenzie stepped into the hallway, his drab brown suit at least two sizes too small for his potbelly. He immediately frowned and gained two chins when he spotted us.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in gym, Ms. Shaw, and not in the hallway?” he said, loosening the stretched-out belt around his pants. “You may be mixed up with those things, but that doesn’t give you extra privileges.”

Mixed up with those things? They weren’t things. They were Wardens, and they kept ungrateful asses like McKenzie safe. My fingers reflexively squeezed Roth’s as anger and a little sadness flooded me.

These people had no clue.

Roth glanced at me, then at the assistant principal. He ducked his head, smiling demurely. Right then and there, I knew he was about to do something really bad.

Like demon-level bad.

And all I could do was brace for it.

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