The Devils Crown - Monica James by James Monica

The Devils Crown - Monica James by James Monica

Author:James, Monica
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Monica James
Published: 2020-07-20T16:00:00+00:00

Frantically reaching into my pocket, I retrieve my phone, and the moment I turn on the flashlight, a slash of silver slices through the air.

Sidestepping, I fend off Ella and the pair of scissors she’s wielding like a sword. When she attempts to stab me in the stomach, I grip her forearm—hard. Her pained screams sound loudly, and when she drops the scissors to the floor, I yank her forward, pressing us chest to chest.

“Try that again, and I will whip you until your ass is raw!”

She spits in my face in response.

Furious, I cup her throat and walk her backward, slamming her against the wall. “You don’t leave my side, we clear?”

I don’t have time for this because when the generator kicks in and the emergency lights cover everything in a ghostly green glow, I know something is very wrong.

She gasps for air as my grip is tight but nods shakily.

Letting her go, I roughly clutch her wrist and drag her out the door. The hallway is shrouded in partial darkness as the lights are still not back on. I storm down the hallway with Ella in tow, but when I turn the corner and see a trail of black up ahead, my survival mode kicks in.

Running forward, I follow the trail of blood, which looks black thanks to the green lighting, but this is without a doubt blood because its source lies sprawled out ahead.

“Oh, my god,” Ella cries when she sees the twisted body a few feet away.

It’s a sister with her habit sprawled around her, but she is prone, so I can’t see her face. No matter that I don’t trust Ella, I let her go, not wanting her to see the fallen sister. I have a suspicion Santo is behind this attack. If that’s the case, Ella isn’t safe.

Her soft footsteps behind me reveal she is prepared for anything, but as I drop to a crouch and carefully pull back the head scarf, nothing can prepare either of us for what we’re about to see because I was wrong…so fucking wrong.

“Hello, Brother.”

A sharp pain in my side accompanies those words because the fallen isn’t a sister—it’s Serg.

Jumping up, I press my palm over my bleeding flank, thanks to the stab wound inflicted by my kin. Serg doesn’t give me time to process that he’s really here before he springs up and launches forward, intent on adding another stab wound to my torso.

But his eagerness and inexperience, a reflection of his leadership, has me disarming him quickly when I kick the long blade from his hand. He wavers, which is all I need to leap forward and break his nose. The sound, as well as the blood coating my hand, awakens the bloodlust, and I dive on top of him, dropping us both to the floor.

He tries to fight me, but there is no way he’s leaving here alive. I cradle his head in my palms and slam the back of his skull against the hard flooring.


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