as if she were an incarnate of the devil herself.
Every instinct in my body told me to run, my veins burning with the need to put as much distance between myself and this person as I could physically manage. I never felt such an overwhelming urge to move in all my life.
The person took one step forward, I took one step back.
Suddenly the game shifted, and she leapt toward me, clearing the distance from the living room to where I stood in an instant. My body reacted before my mind could, racing for the front door. I burst through it and down the hallway, slamming into the wall and smacking the elevator button in the same breath. There was no way it would open in time before that... thing joined me in the hall. My eyes landed on the door to the staircase, and I flung myself through it.
I don't know how many floors I cleared before I looked up. She was practically right behind me, clearing steps in multiples with ease. I had no idea how she was doing it; my lungs burned, a rigid ache settling in my chest and throat, and at some point I knew I would have to stop to breathe. But the rising fear that she'd catch me kept me moving, willing me to avoid capture or even death.
I managed to get down the steps and out the front door, ignoring the gasps and shocked stares that followed me. My mind was racing almost as fast as my heart continued to pound, the streets signs passing by me in mixed blurs. Before I knew it, I had cleared several blocks and found myself in a street corner alleyway, alone.
I pressed myself against a cold and damp brick wall, wedging myself between two large dumpster cans. This was insane, my mind told me, absolutely insane. I had just cleared through a corner of Times Square, most likely running from a demon, like a zebra fleeing from a hungry lion. Every inch of my body burned and ached, yet I had nothing to show for it but some bloody clothes and beads of sweat.
Half-angel or not, you weren't supposed to run from the enemy. You were supposed to fight them, kill them.
All of Kayden's words buzzed at the front of my brain. He had asked me point-blank if I would be ready for this, ready to fight against masses of demons intent on killing me for their own benefit. At first, I had thought he was exaggerating; we weren't in the 1600's any more, battling with swords and crude weapons. Now, I wasn't so sure.
I wanted to tell someone, instinctively involve the police. But what exactly could a mortal officer do for a supernatural battle over me?
My eyes spotted a piece of broken mirror, and I picked it up. One quick look told me I wasn't going to get far with all this blood on me. I started to remove my jacket when I felt a familiar lump in the one side pocket. Pulling it out, I stared at the glint of shiny plastic and metal, my cell phone left in my palm.
My heart leapt into my throat, and I was dialing a number before I even realized who it was. Kayden's number rang a couple of times before sending me to voicemail. I hung up and tried again, only this time I dialed the one person I knew would pick up.
Jayson's voice sounded through my phone on the third ring. "Essallie! You made it there safely?"
"Jayson," I started, only to stop. My voice quivered and cracked, I sounded horrible. "Jayson, I-"
He caught the sound of my choked sobs. "Essallie, what's going on? Are you hurt?"
"No, I- I'm fine," I stammered out, clenching a fist and smacking the cold wall behind me. The words came in a rush, spilling from my lips in a snowballing effect. "Gram and Gran are dead, Jayson. They're dead, murdered, blood everywhere, and I saw it, and it's everywhere, and I don't know what to do and- and- and-"
I heard something crash behind me. Instantly I spun around, scream clutched in my throat. An emaciated street cat scurried across the alleyway into an open container.
I zeroed back in on the phone in my hand. Jayson was screaming at me, trying to get my attention.
"Essallie, Essallie are you still there?"
"I'm still