He laughed at that. “Okay, I won’t.”
She gave him her most winning smile, and then opened the front door. On a count of three, they ran out onto the street and hopefully not to their doom.
They crossed the street with little problem and went into the backyard of the house two down from their hiding spot. The back fence was another tall one, and he’d been right about it butting up against an alley.
Before they jumped it, Ronan peered through the slats. He looked down one way, then the other. So far, the coast was clear. “Looks good.” He bent over and gave Ivy a hand up. Once she was on top of the fence, she swung her legs over and jumped down.
“Clear,” she said, as she waited for him.
He vaulted up on top of the fence and perched there for only a second. But it was enough for a bullet to find him and pierce through his shoulder.
The impact sent him spiraling off the fence. He landed on his side on the gravel. Ivy was on him in seconds, pulling him up, but mindful of his bloodied arm.
“Shit. You’ve been shot.”
“It’s fine. I’ll live. Let’s get out of here.”
Together, they scrambled out of the alley, down another, between two stores and out onto Main Street. Here there were more people milling about. Ronan didn’t know if they were demons or the possessed. He couldn’t tell from this distance. And as far as he could discern, he and Ivy hadn’t been spotted yet.
He motioned toward one burned car. “Over there. We can hunker down behind it.”
They ran to the car and crouched behind the back bumper. Ivy pulled at his shirt. “Let me see.”
Ronan rolled up his sleeve over his shoulder. Blood ran down from the wound. He prodded it with his finger. “It’s not bad.” He searched behind and found the exit hole. “It went through.”
“We need to patch you up.” She reached into the pack she had strapped to her belt. She unzipped it and came away with some alcohol wipes and some gauze pads. She ripped open the wipe package. “It’s going to sting.”
“Can’t hurt more than it already does.”
“Don’t be a baby.” She wiped it across the open wound.
Ronan nearly shot to his feet. The pain was sharp and stinging. It almost brought tears to his eyes. After she finished, she pressed the hole with three gauze pads and secured them with tape. When she was done, she rolled down his shirtsleeve.
He tested the tape job by rolling his shoulder. “Not bad.”
She shrugged. “You’re not the only one that can heal.”
He lifted up his shotgun again and peered around the car. The people that had been on the street were now gone. He scanned the storefronts and the rooftops. Nothing. He didn’t like the feeling that crept over him.
“I think we may have a problem.”
The metal barrel nudging the back of his head confirmed that statement.
“What are you doing out here making all this noise?” the male gunman asked.
“Trying to get your attention,” Ivy answered.
Ronan pictured another gunman pointing a weapon at Ivy. There was no way this one guy would still be standing if there hadn’t been.
“Yeah, well, you definitely got it now,” the gunman answered.
“They’re demons, Bill,” the other gunman said. “Let’s take them out and get out of here.”
Ronan heard a round going into a chamber.
“Wait,” Ivy growled. “My name is Ivy Strom and I’m here looking for my brother, Quinn Strom. Do you know him?”
There was an audible sigh from one of the two men, and then Ronan heard a safety going on. Obviously they’d heard of Quinn Strom.
“You better be who you say you are, or you’re going to die, nice and slow.”
The two human gunmen blindfolded Ivy and Ronan, stuffed them into the back of a car and drove them to their camp. Ivy wondered if that was where Quinn was. She imagined if there was a leader running this show it would definitely be him. That’s why she had used his name as a stalling method. It had obviously worked like a charm.
After about a ten-minute drive, a long time for such a small town, the vehicle came to a stop. She figured they were then just outside the town limits. The car doors opened and they were pulled out and pushed down a path of some sort, up four stairs and through a door. Ivy heard it shut behind them. Then they were ushered—she could sense Ronan with her still—across a floor and down a set of stairs to a basement, she assumed. Once there, they were shoved into hard wooden chairs and their blindfolds were tugged off.
She was right; they were in a basement of some older house, surrounded by about ten men and women, all with weapons trained on her and Ronan. She sniffed. Mildew, sweat and fear tainted the air. It was an old house filled with frightened people. She wondered how long they’d been holed up like this. Then she looked down and saw her chair was smack dab in the middle of a devil’s trap. She glanced over at Ronan and saw the same thing.
He lifted an eyebrow and a shoulder in response.
Another man stepped forward. He looked to be around thirty—dirty, sweaty and tired. There was a fresh bandage around his hand. “Who are you? And what are you doing in Sumner?”
“I’ll only talk to the man in charge,” Ivy said, looking around at the faces glaring at them.
“I am in charge,” he retorted with a sniff.
She shook her head. “No, you’re not. Quinn Strom is here somewhere. This totally looks like his operation.”
“Perceptive, as always, I see.”
The deep masculine voice came from behind her but she would know it anywhere. She sighed, then gave a little chuckle. “Enough to know that you haven’t had a bath in, say, over a week.”
Quinn came around her chair, stepping into her view. He looked the same. His hair was a little longer, flecked with a little gray at the sides. Dark stubble lined his pointy jaw. She wanted to punch that jaw.
“Hello, sis.”
“Quinn.” She gestured to the people with guns pointing at her. “Is this how you treat the last of your family?”
“When they could be possessed by demons, sure is.” He glanced at Ronan. And Ivy could see his amulet flare to life. Instantly, he drew his own weapon, cocked it.
“Don’t!” she yelled. “Don’t splatter him all over the place.”
Quinn looked at her from the corner of his eye. “Why, is he your demon lover?”
She saw Ronan bristle at that.
“He’s not full-blooded. He’s a cambion. Turned against his will.” She reached out a hand. “Just give us holy water to drink, jerk, so we can prove who we are and be done with this bullshit.”
Quinn nodded to the woman on his right. She rushed over and handed an open bottle of water to Ivy. She snatched it from the woman’s hand, tipped it and chugged half the bottle. She was definitely thirsty, and holy water or not, it hit the spot. After she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, she handed it back to the woman.
“There. You see. I’m not possessed.”
Quinn didn’t say anything, just nodded at the woman again. When she approached Ronan she was much more cautious. Afraid looking, even. Her hand shook as she handed it to him.
Ronan took the bottle, and after giving a cheers to Quinn, he chugged down the rest. He burped, wiped his mouth and tossed the bottle onto the floor. “Satisfied, big guy?”
“No, but I guess it proves you aren’t a demon. Doesn’t mean I can trust you.”
