Every muscle in my body flexes as I watch Charlie, hair splashing around her, one arm punching the air, eyes closed as she matches the music’s tempo. Her birthday may not be for a few more days, but she’s certainly dancing and partying as if it’s tonight.
When I see a guy in a white v-neck try and get her attention, I decide I’ve had enough. Nothing will stop me from getting Charlie off that table and away from all the surrounding testosterone.
Nothing except Annabelle.
She steps in front of me, a thin red straw between her lips. “Where you going, buster?”
“To get Charlie off that stage,” I snarl, trying to step around her.
Annabelle lays a hand on my chest. “Hold up, Romeo. I know you want to be all romantic and show her just how amazingly jealous and petty you are, but have you stopped to think about why she’s up there on that table?”
“Yeah, it’s Salem and his twin taint. They’re changing her.”
Annabelle frowns in confusion. Then her face relaxes into an expression of contempt. “Oh, man. You’re more full of yourself than I gave you credit for.” She takes another sip of her drink. After she swallows, she says, “I mean, you really think you can do no wrong.”
I glance at Charlie. Easton’s moving toward her. He’s shorter than his brother but still built like a linebacker. He runs a hand through his dark hair, then steps closer to the table Charlie’s dancing on.
“What are you talking about, Annabelle?” I ask. But I’m not really paying attention anymore, because I spy Salem lurking in the corner, watching his brother and talking into his cell phone. His eyes are wide, and each time a purple-red light flashes across him, I see his eyes grow larger, more excited.
“Charlie is doing all of this because of you,” Annabelle says. “Because of what happened—”
I don’t hear anything else she says.
A storm explodes in my chest and crashes through the rest of my body. Because Easton just handed a drink up to Charlie. And when he did, I saw something peek out from the bottom of his shirtsleeve—a branded tattoo in the shape of an “A.”
The same one I spotted on the guy who rammed into me with his car.
The same one I saw on Gage when he straddled the Suzuki.
They’re connected.
All of them.
My pulse pounds in my ears as I brush past Annabelle and crash toward Charlie like an avalanche.
MONSTER
“We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.”
—Oscar Wilde
16 
Knockout Charlie
I don’t make eye contact with Easton, I just pull Charlie into my arms and race toward the back of the warehouse, searching wildly for Blue.
Charlie takes one look at my face and seems to know something has happened. Her head whips side to side, searching for the cause of my panic. Blue sees me when I’m a few feet away, and his eyes widen. He rushes forward.
Placing Charlie down, I nudge her toward Blue.
“Take her,” I tell him. “Get her out of here now.” I ready myself to force Blue if I have to, but he doesn’t hesitate. Grabbing Charlie’s hand, he makes for the door, snaking between dancing bodies.
Spinning around, I search for Aspen and Annabelle. If these flesh-tattooed guys are connected, I know they’re probably here for either me or Charlie, but I won’t leave the other two girls behind. One is Charlie’s best friend, who happens to be a friend of mine, too. And Aspen, well, the moment I saw that tattoo on Easton’s arm, I remembered the world I live in is divided by good and evil, and that you can’t hide from either. Aspen is my assignment, and if I want to play for Big Guy’s team, I have to liberate her soul. Plus, Aspen is…Aspen. I can’t leave her.
But when I search for Aspen on the table, or Annabelle in the crowd, I find neither. Now I’m wondering if Blue’s made it to the car. Except I didn’t give him the keys.
Damn it!
Vowing to return for the girls, I sprint toward the door Blue and Charlie left through. As soon as I blast outside and into the winter night, I spot Blue shielding my girlfriend with his body. Easton and Salem creep toward him like hyenas, their eyes cold and calculating. I had hoped we would have time to slip away before the brothers knew I was onto them, but I guess I screwed that up when I sprinted away from Easton with Charlie in my arms. Watching them now, I expect them to sneer. I expect them to hurl insults and divulge their plan. But they don’t. They just skirt closer to Blue and analyze the situation.
Two against one, they seem to decide. Because there’s no way Charlie can defend herself.
I slink along the edge of the wall, pulling on my shadow so I can’t be seen. Blue appears to gauge the distance between Easton and him, between Salem and him. If he waits too long, he won’t stand a chance. To fight, you need room. I hope he knows this. Remembering the way he was in life—a skinny, mumbling Eeyore—I can’t imagine he does.
But he strikes out like a bolt of lightning, flashing toward Easton and hitting him once along his jaw. While Easton recovers, Blue charges toward Salem and slams into him like an eighteen-wheeler. My chest explodes with pride at how quickly he rebounds and fights the two brothers. Still, even though he’s blowing my freaking mind, I know he won’t be able to hold them off for long. Attacking without a fear of dying grants you a certain advantage, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be overtaken.
I barrel toward Salem. He looks in my direction the moment before an invisible fist connects with his stomach. Down he drops. I shake off my shadow so Blue can see I’m here. Once he does, he concentrates his attention on Easton. The two kick and tear like dogs along the ground, while I drag Salem up and we battle on our feet.
Salem gets two clean shots into my side and face after I turn to check if Charlie’s safe. I spin on the eldest brother and wrestle him to the wall.
“Blue, wrap your hands around Easton’s throat,” I yell. “Squeeze until he stops fighting, but don’t kill him.”
“Leave him alone,” Salem snarls, writhing against me. I manage to hold him in place and hope that behind me, Blue is overpowering Easton.
He must be, because soon after I hear Blue say, “Having trouble breathing?”
“Remember, Blue, not too much,” I say, taunting Salem. “Just make sure his brother here answers my questions.”
“Got it.” His words sound strained, and I know I may only have so long before the brothers break free.
“First question,” I say, leaning toward Salem. “Who the hell are you?”
“Screw you.”
“Blue, can you squeeze a little tighter?” I say.
There’s a short pause before Blue answers with, “Ooh, he doesn’t like that one bit.”
“Who are you?” I repeat to Salem.
The elder brother glances over my shoulder, and his brow furrows. “You know my name, prick,” he says.
“What does that tattoo on your brother’s arm mean?”
Salem’s eyes snap to mine. I can see the surprise swimming in them.
“Dante?” Charlie says.
“It’s okay, angel,” I tell her. “We’re just getting to know these guys a little better.” I shove Salem harder into the wall. “What does the tattoo mean?”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he growls.
“Blue?” I say like a question.