“Demons,” he breathed.
My hand went to the hatchet on my hip. Warrick took his sawed-off shotgun from the inner lining of his jacket. “How many?” I asked.
“Two Reds and two Shredders.”
“Shit,” Warrick cursed under his breath, voicing my thoughts.
“Get the truck started. We’ll hold them off.”
Max darted from Dro’s side, running for the truck cab. Dro took a step closer to me.
“I can help,” she offered.
I looked at my little sister. A half angel, half demon girl who had heightened senses, could heal almost any injury, use telepathy, and create hellfire blasts as hot as the sun.
Dro had more power than I could comprehend. But she couldn’t control it.
“No,” I told her. “Warrick and I have this. You stay safe.”
Dro narrowed her eyes to show her irritation. “Seph isn’t here, Con. You need as much help as you can get. I know how to fight.”
Of course she did. I taught her myself. But being a big sister came before her desire to play hero.
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