Unholy (Crazy Like You~Book 2)

Chapter 12

(((I've been in a weird hurt/comfort mood... so that's what a lot of this chapter is :) I promise it'll get more interesting next chapter )))

~~~~~~~Sean's POV~~~~~~~~~~~

The blade buries itself to the hilt, piercing the stone wall with a sickening crack, a few chunks of the grit fall to the ground noiselessly. I feel a breath ease from my chest, I hadn't noticed the sudden tightness of my throat. My relief and that of the angels around don't compare to the pure elation that replaces the scrunched-up expression of terror on the Angel Danny's features. Dark's eyes lower, a darkness covering his features as he pulls away wordlessly, hand dropping from the hilt, and leaving it where it had pierced, right below the angel's armpit, almost piercing skin with the quick motion.

The demon turns away, dropping the other completely. The crowd parts around him, weapons still drawn as he turns, making his way to a corner of the room. Only when he's out of my sight do I turn back around, only now really noticing all the eyes on me, some seem almost intrigued, others more suspicious than they had been prior. Either way I find myself thankful as Emma speaks up, breaking the ever-growing tension.

I look over to her, watching her murmur a few soft words to Danny who nods, hand rubbing at his reddened throat gently, I don't doubt the flesh will bruise.

"Alright shows over... Everyone get back to work..."

Her voice holds a certain apprehension, and, save for a few quiet arguments, everyone disperses. I take note of the stiffness that now rests over the air like smog.

I feel a set of eyes boring into me and turn my head, meeting the soft eyes of the angel from before, Danny. He studies me, as though expecting me to say something, do something I'd regret. It surprises me when a small smile tugs onto his pale lips, eyes unfocused as they move to my face. If he were human I would instantly assume concussion.

"Thanks..."

He breathes out the word, I only narrow my eyes. Biting my tongue against the pathetic 'why' that eases through my throat. Why torture? Why hurt the demon at all? Why should I trust you? I'm not sure if it's the silence that gives away my thoughts, or the sudden urgency of my movements, but again Danny speaks up, voice hollowly sympathetic. Fake.

"We wouldn't have hurt that demon unless necessary..."

My stomach churns at his voice, and I shake my head numbly. It doesn't matter, it's done... Why should I care for some demon I'd never met? I don't, not really... I guess... I was just hopeful, desperate for some good in this world, and I was presented with Angels, the epitome of grace and kindness... only to find out, that's not really the case at all... To find out it's all bullshit.

I can only take another minute or so of the eyes on me, some of pity, others of distrust, and fake sympathy I find myself hating. I turn, without a word, allowing my feet to carry me gracelessly to the back of the room. I don't notice my path until I meet a pair of crimson eyes, hollow and cold, and somehow more comforting in this moment than the Angel's, or even Mark's.

Speaking of Mark, I'm surprised he hadn't followed me. One look over my shoulder shows he'd been stopped by Thomas who muttered softly to the human. Stopping whatever blatantly protective measure he'd been prepared to take.

Dark says nothing, just watching as I lean against the nearby wall, standing over his form slouched on the same bench Mark and I had occupied not ten minutes prior. I feel his eyes graze over me carefully, but I can't bring myself to meet his for more than a few seconds. Oddly enough the silence is comforting, I feel the tightness of my chest loosen, and breathing the thick air becomes barely easier.