Sinking to the floor of the pool like a bag of rocks, a red-hot fury whipped through me, igniting my grace. The corners of my vision turned white as I planted my feet on the bottom of the pool and kicked off. I swam upward, propelled by pure, unfettered rage. I broke the surface, dragging in mouthfuls of air as I shouted, “Asshole!”

The answering chuckle set me off further. I might have had an anger-induced blackout, because I didn’t even know how I made it to the deck of the pool. Water coursed off me as I splashed forward, the shirt clinging to some very unmentionable places. Heat rippled down my arm, followed by swirling white fire. Grace exploded from my hand, spitting flames as my fingers curled around the heated handle forming against my palm. The sword was heavy but inherently familiar.

An imp dropped out of the sky, landing in front of me. It opened its mouth.

“Shut up,” I snarled as I sliced the Sword of Michael through the demon, my attention solely focused on the golden-white wings ahead.

Someone was about to lose some pretty feathers.

An imp erupted in flames as Zayne whirled toward me. His mouth opened as if he were about to say something. He snapped his jaw closed, his chin lowering along with his stare.

“That was not cool,” I bit out.

“You stank of demon blood,” he replied in that flat voice of his. His head tilted. “You’re very wet, little nephilim.”

Noting that his gaze was hung up on two very private areas that were clearly visible through the soaked shirt, I realized that I would have no problem stabbing him through the heart at the moment.

Not at all.

“I’m also very pissed.” I joined my hands together on the hilt as I swung the sword forward. Grace spit and crackled, charging the air.

“I can tell.” Zayne snapped forward, catching my wrists before the sword could reach him. “And I’m kind of turned on.”

A scream of rage left me as I leaned back, bracing my weight on one foot. I kicked out, catching him in the stomach.

Zayne grunted, but didn’t let go. “Ouch.” He twisted his arm, spinning me around. He pulled me back against him and the chill of his skin seeped through the thin, wet shirt. “Didn’t we just find ourselves in this very same predicament only a few hours ago?”

White fire crackled and throbbed as I pulled against his hold. “When you said you would kill me the next time you saw me?” I spat back. “Instead you saved me.”

“But I’m still seeing you.” His chin dipped, grazing my cheek. “Aren’t I?”

“Yeah, and the night is still young.” I threw my head back, but he avoided the blow. “Why are you even here?”

“I was watching your place.”