Darkest Sins (Perfectly Imperfect #9)

“I can’t,” I say, as I slowly rise. “I twisted my ankle. I could probably walk, but I can’t run.”

His eyes snap to mine. I can see the storm brewing in their depths as he goes over our options. There’s at least eighty feet between here and the dais. Too many of Alvino’s guys are still alive. He’ll run out of ammunition before I manage to drag myself there.

“Okay.” He turns to send a few bullets toward the Camorra men, then places his guns in the holster. Smoothly, he grabs under my thighs and lifts me against his chest. “Hold tight. We’ll have to be fast.”

I gape at him. If he’s carrying me, he won’t be able to return fire. And his back will be exposed to the shooters.Fuck no!Feeling his heat beneath my touch, I slide my hand between our bodies and pull a gun from his holster.

“Heads up, demon. I’m a lousy shot unless my target is up close.” I cross my ankles at the small of his back, locking myself in. Then, I wrap my left arm around his neck and extend the right over his shoulder, gun at the ready.

My demon smiles. “Give them hell, tiger cub.”

He runs.

The scent of gunfire and forest fills my nostrils as I squeeze the trigger again and again. My entire arm shakes from the recoil and the weight of the too large weapon in my hand. There’s no time to aim, so I just shoot in the general direction of the pews. A bit of stone shrapnel or maybe something else hits my exposed leg. Tears well in my eyes. But I tighten my hold around my demon’s neck and keep firing, despite barely being able to feel my grip.

Fresh air rushes into my lungs, sweet summer smells replace the stench of blood and gunpowder. We’re out. That fact barely registers before I find myself deposited behind the wheel of a car.

“Floor it,” my demon barks as he snatches the gun out of my hand and shuts the door. “Go directly home.”

“I’m not leaving you,” I scream through an open window.

“I need to do a cleanup here, and I can’t do it if I’m worried about you.”

He turns and shoots toward the back of the church. An instant later, a bullet hits the hood of the sedan. Alvino’s men have obviously followed us, but I can’t see the exit we came out of because my dark protector is standing in the way, blocking my view.

More bullets rain.

My demon suddenly jerks back, crashing into the car beside me. He tosses the weapon he took from me and pulls another from his holster, making a guttural noise in the process. His low grunt is cut off by the exploding rear window as a bullet shatters the glass and lodges in the padded seat.

“Nera, go! I can’t focus!” he yells, slamming his palm on the car roof.

I step on the gas.

Chapter 19

Half past nine.

Over forty-eight hours.

The hands of my oversized wall clock seem to be moving super fast, but at the same time, much slower than they should. Sometimes, a minute feels like an hour. But the next passes in a heartbeat. Where the fuck is he?!

When I made it home after escaping that disaster with Alvino, I collapsed on the couch and, with my eyes fixed on the front door, waited for my demon. And waited. Panic gripped me in its claws, squeezing. It became harder to breathe. I didn’t move my eyes from the door for hours.

Morning came. The panic transformed into madness. I grabbed my phone and searched the news sites for any speck of information. Nothing. I limped outside and walked around the block in my day-old dirty clothes, hoping to spot him lurking in some dark corner nearby. He wasn’t there. And not on my roof. Nor on the roof across the street. Nowhere.

Returning to the apartment, I resumed my vigil on the couch. I didn’t go to work, just stared at my front door. That’s where Zara found me when she came over to check on me that evening because I wasn’t answering her calls. I almost lost itwhen that front door opened, but I realized it was my sister and not him.

“Where are you, demon?” I whisper into the empty living room.

A year, and we never managed to exchange numbers. If I had the energy, I would have laughed. How am I supposed to know if he’s okay? If he’s . . . alive?

Slowly, I stand up from the couch and trudge to the kitchen to get a glass of water. I took a quick shower earlier and must have crashed for a couple of hours. After jolting awake from a restless slumber, I just threw on a T-shirt I usually sleep in. I’m not going anywhere until he comes back anyway.

My phone starts ringing on the counter. It’s my dad. I’m not really in the right frame of mind to speak with him now, but I do need to answer the call. I can’t tell him about what happened at the church two nights ago. If I do, I’ll have to tell him everything about my demon, too. And my father might order him killed. No man outside of the Family is allowed to get this close to the don’s daughter.

“Yes?” I croak into the phone.

“Nera, you sound awful. Zara said you’re sick.”