Page 120 of Paramour of Sin

His hands fell away from his face on an anguished bellow that I felt all the way to my soul.

I flinched, my side still on fire, my palm shrieking in response to handling the deadly metal with my bare skin.

The scent of pennies tickled my nose, blood splattering all over both of us and painting his skin and beard and fingers a dark red color.

Then he glanced down at the knife sticking out of his ribcage and laughed.

Not just laughed, hecackledmaniacally like an absolute madman, as if beyond amused that I’d actually stabbed him.

He’s insane,I thought.Absolutely out of his damn mind.

Or maybe he didn’t feel anything at all.

A true sociopath, entertained by harming those around him and utterly incapable of realizing he’d been hurt, too.

I trembled, the silver poison still shredding me apart despite Lord Zebulon’s energy pouring through me. It took all my effort to crawl away from Creek, but the damage was severe and spreading, just slowly.

Living room,I thought, trying desperately to put a wall between us.

But I barely made it two feet before the gun discharged behind me.

Shit!I forgot about the pistol.

Silver rent through my shoulder and more agony exploded inside me. I shrieked, the sound unbidden, a release of the worst agony I’d ever felt.

Collapsing to my side, I glanced back to find Creek on his feet, his gun smoking in his hand and the knife in his other, dripping with both of our blood. A deranged grin slashed across his face.

I didn’t have a clue as to how he was standing, let alone moving.

Then he used the barrel of the gun to scratch his jaw before taking aim again. “Well, this has been—”

Crack!

I flinched, expecting to feel the burn of a second bullet.

Only it didn’t hit me.

It… it hit Creek.

Followed by a third.

And a fourth.

Sending the Nephilim to the ground on a series of shocked gasps.

Ragus stepped into view from the front doorway, his expression giving nothing away as he unloaded his clip into Creek’s head.

“I never liked you,” Ragus said conversationally. “You talk too fucking much.”

Lord Zebulon appeared on a surge of energy with a roar of fury and another tidal wave of power struck an already unconscious Creek.

Ragus casually holstered his weapon, then focused on me with a soft curse under his breath. “I should have checked on you sooner,” he said stepping forward. “I thought he just stopped by for a chat until I heard the gunshot.”

Lord Zebulon growled, his attention on Creek until he spotted me against the wall.

Everything froze. Or it froze for me. Sort of like… a statue of faces.

Underlined infury.