From above us, another snapping sound made us jump. Oh God, the winged demons were almost in. I glanced over my shoulder to the south gate. Wingless demons pushed against it, bending it bit by bit. Soon they would be in too.
The wingless demon from before stared at me. It bared and snapped its teeth. With its unnatural force, it let out a feral growl and pushed against the gate, breaking it down.
“Oh shit,” I muttered, pulling Raisa to run with me.
A police officer appeared from a corner. He looked above our heads, and his eyes went wide. “Run!” he said as he pointed his gun past us.
He shot. I winced. Raisa whimpered.
He emptied the magazine of his gun, and then ran with us, changing the magazine on the move.
“Just keep going,” he instructed. I intended to follow his order until I saw what was right above us. I pulled Raisa to a stop, and he bumped into us. “What the—?”
“There.” I pointed up to where a winged demon was crawling through the snapped cables. We would never outrun it and, no matter which direction we went we would find more demons.
“Fuck.” The cop scanned the area. “In there.” He gestured to the Grey Art Gallery across the street. Three students opened the wooden doors and slipped in. “We can hide in there.”
The winged demon was in, and it was looking at me. This was the second demon looking straight at me. Wait, this wasn’t some random attack. If … if the demons were here for me, then it meant Imha and Omi knew about me.
Panic cinched my chest, and my body slacked with that overwhelming realization. The police officer tugged the sleeve of my coat, snapping me out of it. We rushed to the other side of the street, and I didn’t look back while the cop unloaded his gun at whatever moved closer.
Raisa and I opened the door. The three of us entered the gallery and pulled the door closed. The cop locked it, and then fastened a pair of cuffs around the knobs.
“I doubt this will hold them for much longer,” he said.
Raisa turned to me and grasped my arms, her nails digging into my jacket, her eyes wide. “Dear Lord, I can’t believe this is happening. This isn’t happening. Tell me it isn’t happening.”
I patted her hands. “Hey. Calm down. Breath in and out.”
The cop shot us an evil eye. “We don’t have time for this.”
I glared at him before focusing on Raisa again. “I need you to calm down. Take deep breaths.”
She reluctantly did it. “W-what was that?”
“I don’t know,” I lied, hoping she wouldn’t notice it. Usually, she caught on to my lies easily, but with the panicky state she was in, I doubted she was paying attention to details. “But you need to calm down a little, okay?”
She nodded, and I passed my arm over her shoulders steering her to the main room of the gallery.
We crossed the room on high alert. Around us quivering students hid behind the exhibitions, some climbed up the stairs, and some entered the restricted area probably looking for secluded places to hide. Many pieces of art had fallen or been broke.
I glanced up to the cop. “I’m Nadine. This is Raisa.”
“I’m Greg,” he said as we stepped into a second room.
A large banner indicated an international medieval weapons exhibition had been on display. The weapons lined the glass cases along the walls and over the tables. There were swords, axes, spears, daggers, bows, and many others I didn’t know by name.
“W-we should take one,” Raisa said, her voice still quavering.
I stared at her. “What?”
“Well, better than running empty-handed.” She shrugged, and I had the urge to hug her. I had never seen Raisa this unsure before. “In case they get to us, we can try something.”
“That might not be a bad idea,” Greg said. He walked up to a center table, where swords of many different lengths were laid. Behind the table a woman hid. “Hey.”
The woman stood. She held her chin high, making me jealous of her flawless brown skin. Her chocolate eyes stared at us, not one bit afraid. “I should tell you not to rob the swords, but who am I kidding? The weapons are the last thing to worry about now.”
She was dressed in a gray pencil skirt, a silk white shirt, and black pumps. She looked too elegant to be a student. She turned, showing a name tag pinned to her shirt. It read Keisha Cross, Medieval Weapons Specialist.
“Why didn’t you run to the basement with the others?” I asked as Raisa approached Keisha. Beside the new girl, Raisa looked like a gnome. I probably did too.
“I-I don’t know,” Keisha said, pushing her long, black hair back.
“Okay,” Greg started. “Let’s grab some stuff and get away from here.”
A huge cracking sound echoed through the walls, followed by loud growls.
My heart chilled, and I jumped back bumping into Keisha. Oh God, the demons were inside.
Greg pulled his fist back set to break the glass over the swords, but Keisha was faster. She gently pushed me aside, punched the glass, and grabbed two swords. Her expression was tight, and when she turned her head toward the doorway her eyes flashed—a spark of silver light shone from her irises.
I rubbed my eyes. What? I must have been more tired than I thought I was.
Greg handed a dagger to Raisa and me, and he picked an axe for him. The dagger felt heavy and cold in my hand, and I didn’t like holding it.
With what sounded like sick battle cries, the demons charged into the room, and Keisha stepped toward them.
I reached for her. “What are you doing?”
Without answering me, she jerked away from my hand and lunged at the demons.
Keisha swung one of her swords at the demon in front of her. The hideous creature parried it with its arm as her second sword slashed across its stomach. Another demon turned to her. Teeth gritted, she whirled away from its claw and hacked its thighs with both her swords. A third and a fourth demon lunged at her. She parried the spear of one, dodged the swipe of another, gashed the throat of the one with the spear, and kicked the chest of the other. The demon she killed and the one she kicked fell to the floor as a third demon came at her. She spun out of its reach, then stepped back into it, and shoved her sword into its chest. By then the other demon was back on its feet. She swung her arm wide, slicing its face with the tip of her blade. The demon collapsed to the side, and she sunk her sword in its chest.
My mouth hung open.
“Dear Lord,” Raisa whispered.
Greg’s lips curled up. “That’s hot.”
Seriously? He was thinking about that while she was fighting for our lives?
She was fighting. A bunch of demons. By herself. Fighting. Like sword fighting. As if she was a knight in some Arthurian tale.
I couldn’t believe my eyes.
Keisha stopped, took off her pumps, ripped the side of her pencil skirt up to her thigh, and wiped the hair from her face. She looked fierce and strong, like a warrior, and she probably wasn’t much older than I was.