He drilled the stick into the table an inch from Scott’s ear. Without pausing, he leaped onto the table and held the pool stick pointed down at Scott’s face.

Out of surprise or fear, Scott fumbled his pool stick, and the guy in the red tee snatched it up. The guy in the red tee shoved Scott with the gun, and he flew The guy in the red tee shoved Scott with the gun, and he flew back on the tabletop. She should have learned her lesson at Bo’s and stayed home. Whatever was about to happen, it wasn’t a mere fistfight. Whether Nephilim or fall en angel, he was likely just as powerful. She hadn’t been there the night he’d chased me through the halls of the high school. She hadn’t seen Chauncey, the first Nephil I’d ever met, mangle my cell phone in the palm of his hand.

She didn’t realize Scott was Nephilim and had more strength in one of his hands than a human had in his whole body. I knew, right then, that she had no idea what was about to happen. She stood across the crowd, with something I could only describe as bewildered fascination written all over her expression. Out of all the faces in the crowd, I suddenly found myself locking eyes with Marcie. I also wondered if the queasy and uncomfortably familiar feeling inside me meant he was a fall en angel. I wondered if they were just as spooked by him as I was. But there was something vicious and frighteningly powerful about him. As Scott had pointed out, the crowd had the guy in the red tee outnumbered by a landslide. I wondered why nobody made a move to help him. “You’re making a big mistake,” Scott said, his voice still cool, but spilling the first drop of panic. Didn’t he know he couldn’t die? Didn’t he know he was Nephilim? But Patch had said he belonged to a Nephilim blood society-how could he not know? I couldn’t believe he didn’t wrench the gun away. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of Scott’s face. He stood directly in front of Scott for a moment, his finger poised on the trigger. You’re outnumbered thirty to one.” The guy in the red tee crossed to Scott in three strides.

Very slowly, Scott raised his hands level with his shoulders and scooted backward onto the pool table. The guy in the red tee was two-handing the gun, aiming at Scott’s chest.

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