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ChapterForty-Three
SUNDAY
My knees still felt shaky when I finally summoned up the courage to leave the little nook Caleb had pulled me into. I was sure I smelled like sex and... him.
“There you are.”
Noah’s voice washed over me, dredging up more confusion and my new constant companion, guilt.
“Got lost, did you?” he asked with a wry smile.
“I got... distracted. I’m sorry.” I couldn’t lie to him, but how was I going to admit I’d just been tongue fucked by a priest while I was supposed to meet with him in the garden?
His gaze turned assessing. “Is that so? And here I thought I was the distraction.”
“I have a few distractions in my life at this point. I’m a mess.”
“A beautiful mess,” he said, stepping close and feathering his lips over mine before growling, “Mymess.”
“Yes. I’m yours. I’m complicated as fuck, and yours.”
He brushed a stray lock of my hair back into place. “I wouldn’t change a thing about you. I knew what I was getting myself into when I chose you, Sunday. And yet here I am. No stipulations. No conditions. Just yours.”
“Even if I might be someone else’s... orseveralother someones?”
His gaze was strong and steadfast, unwavering. “Even then.”
“Noah, I have something I need to tell you—” A heavy explosion coming from the direction of the ballroom sent me crashing into Noah’s chest, interrupting my confession. “What the hell was that?”
He looked over me, his expression wary and tense. “I’m not sure. Perhaps you should stay here while I check it out.”
“No way. You aren’t going in there without me.”
“Right,” he agreed, releasing a heavy breath. He took my hand in his, holding tightly as he led me back into the ballroom.
Smoke poured in from the windows, but students and instructors alike milled around. No one seemed to be doing anything, though the revelry had come to a halt.
“Do you think this is part of the test?” a pixie girl asked.
As soon as the question left her lips, I paused. It sounded like exactly the kind of sneaky, underhanded move I was coming to expect from Ravenscroft’s professors. Some of my anxiety seeped away as I joined the others. The air hummed with tension as we collectively waited for something, anything to happen.
A bloodcurdling scream echoed from the hallway, and Callie burst through the doors and fell dramatically into Noah’s arms. She was bloodied and battered, her dress torn, hair mussed, the feathers on her tattered mask splattered red with blood.
“Help me! Please, they’re coming.”
Noah gripped her arms, pushing her far enough away he could peer into her face. “Who’s coming? Who did this to you?”
“Demons. They’ve broken through the wards.”
“Demons?” I repeated, horror streaking through me.
There hasn’t been a demon attack since the Siren coven stopped Lucifer from opening the gates of hell. Other than the handful, like Lilith, who had carved out little niches for themselves on the mortal plane, they’d stayed on their side of the underworld ever since.
“Get behind me, Sunday,” Caleb said as he closed the doors and picked up one of the tall candelabras that decorated the entryway. I wondered if he could still taste me on his tongue. If Noah could smell me all over him.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts, watching as he snapped the base off the candelabra as easily as I could snap a twig. Then he slid the thick metal through the door handles, barricading the doors. Black wax candles fell to the floor, their flames still burning. Sanderson and several other witches stepped forward and quickly snuffed out the flames before we had another emergency on our hands.
“Come on, y’all, prepare the wards,” Sanderson called, hands already outstretched as she wove her spell.
