Page 178

I have to get out. I have to.

I need to find Raphael.

He could be hurt.

A frenzy taking over me, I’m mindless in my need to escape. To get back to my bonded.

Until my inner bitch snaps me out of it,Break the symbol, stupid.

Stopping my next punch at the last second, my eyes snap up to the ceiling.

Can I jump that high?

It’s worth a shot.

Bending my knees, I jump up and fall right back down to the ground. Landing on my butt after cracking my head against an invisible ceiling.

What the fuck? How did the gargoyles…

The gargoyles.

Resisting the urge to take another deep breath to steady myself, because this entire place reeks of blood, I reach over and grab the gargoyle to my left.

Standing beside me like a statue, the gargoyle doesn’t fight me when I pick its heavy ass up. All it does is open its freaky red eyes as I heft it in my arms.

Damn, it’s heavy. Like it weighs a literal ton. And I may be a vampire now with a lot more strength than I had as a human, but I’m not sure I can throw it up high enough.

I still have to try, though.

Gritting my fangs together, I bend my knees and summon every ounce of strength I have.

Then I throw the heavy fucker up as hard as I can.

It actually crashes into the ceiling but somehow doesn’t do any damage. Then the damn thing falls right back down.

I try to dart out of the way, but the invisible wall won’t let me. Pressing myself up against the wall, I sense the sharp tip of the gargoyle’s wing slicing down my back.

“Fuck!” I scream as loud as I can.

“Now…” The Prophet clicks his tongue in disapproval. “That’s no way for a young lady to speak.”

I whip toward the doorway and see him filling it with his voluminous robe. The same black ceremonial robe he wore during my Judging. The one with all the golden figure eights weaved along the seams.

Why didn’t I sense him?I wonder.

My inner bitch isn’t quite as snarky when she responds,It could be the symbol.

A growl slips out of me.

The Prophet tips his head back and laughs.

His laughter is the most disturbing sound I’ve heard him make, by far. Disturbing because it’s so human, without any of the usual creepiness attached to it. “You sound like a kitten.”

He glides toward me, and I instinctively take a step back and bare my fangs at him.

His hooded head inclines, but there’s still humor in his voice. “A feral kitten.”

Narrowing my eyes, I peer into the darkness beneath his hood, searching for his face. But the darkness must be made of magic or something because I can’t pierce it.