by Susan Illene
“You had that little faith?”
His lips thinned. “A nephilim has never defeated a prince before. Not only that, but if he’d killed the three of you, the ramifications could have been catastrophic.”
Bartol crossed his arms. “How so?”
“Take care of him first.” Jeriel gestured at Tormod. “Then I’ll explain.”
The young man came closer to him. “Yes, do it now. I don’t want to be like this anymore.”
“It will hurt,” Bartol warned.
“I don’t care,” Tormod said, stiffening his spine. There was more than a little self-recrimination in his eyes. He might be part demon, but there was another part of him that truly wanted to be good. It likely came from his mother’s side.
“Brace yourself.”
Bartol was tired, more than he could describe, but he had a small reserve of energy left. He placed his hand on the nerou’s chest and concentrated. The essence he sought was difficult to find because the young man was already part demon and that natural piece of him could not be extracted without killing him. Bartol had to search for the element that didn’t fit.
He used his inner eye to scan through the nerou’s body until he found what he sought, hidden deep in the center of Tormod’s soul. It was a thin, well-tied knot of magic that took up little space, and likely the reason none of them had detected it before. They’d assumed Tormod’s poor behavior was entirely from his experience with Haagenti, but now it seemed that might not have been the case—at least not entirely. Bartol took hold of a tiny end of the knot and began pulling on it like a string. It didn’t budge easily, and it took a few tries to start yanking loose. The nerou screamed in pain, jerking away. Lucas had to step up and hold Tormod still.
Bartol continued working to untangle the knot, unwinding the loops one after the other. It was as if the string had been glued to the spot and stuck there hard. Sweat dotted his brow. After a few minutes, he reached the central part of the thread that held it all together. He gathered every bit of his energy and yanked as hard as he could. As Tormod shook with wild convulsions, the thread broke free, and Bartol was able to release the evil essence into the atmosphere where it dissolved into the light.
“Done,” he said.
The nerou breathed a sigh of relief, and Lucas let him go.
“That hurt even more than I…” Tormod began. The next thing they knew, the nerou’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, and his knees buckled. Bartol and Lucas caught him just in time to keep him from slamming into the ground. They laid him down gently.
“You’re certain it’s done?” Jeriel asked, lifting a brow. While Bartol had been working, the archangel had cleaned himself up and put on the cowboy attire he preferred.
“Yes. He’s free of it.”
“Good.” The archangel nodded. “But we will still keep an eye on him for a while.”
Lucas picked Tormod’s body up. “I’ll take him somewhere more comfortable.”
“Good idea.” Bartol would have gone as well, but he had questions he wanted answered. “You were explaining the demon’s plan,” he promoted Jeriel.
“I suspect the creature would have summoned more princes by using the energy he would have drained from you at the points of your deaths. The shield would have made it impossible to stop him, and the rest of us would have been hard put to easily defeat that many powerful demons at once.” Jeriel glanced over at Zoe’s body where it lay bloody and broken on the ground, eyes staring sightlessly at the sky. “But somehow she’d been prepared for that eventuality by having a soul bomb placed inside her heart—one that would only ignite if she died.”
Bartol shook his head. “She’d fought knowing she likely wouldn’t survive.”
A male nerou with dark hair joined them. “I foresaw it and told her what she had to do. Without her sacrifice, we had less than a ten percent chance of succeeding in this battle.”
Bartol lifted a brow. “And that was enough to convince her?”
“Not at first, but after I explained there was a seventy percent chance her daughter would die in the next six months if we did not win today, she was willing to do what was necessary.” He kneeled down next to Zoe’s body and gently closed her eyes. “She wasn’t a good person, but she wanted to protect her child.”
Zoe had moved Heaven and Earth to free her daughter from Purgatory. Her actions had always been selfish and uncaring of who she hurt, but Bartol believed she had truly loved her daughter. He could understand that much about her motivations, if nothing else.
“What happened with her heart?” he asked. The sight of it exploding with light was something he’d never forget. The archangel had called it a soul bomb, but he’d never heard of that before.
The nerou stood. “One of the others performed a spell. I foresaw that you wouldn’t be able to finish killing the demon if it wasn’t weakened somehow. Once Zoe was gone, you and Tormod would have died next. She agreed to have a soul bomb put inside her heart since it was the most likely way the prince would execute her. It released the pure, angelic side of her that would burn anything evil nearby.”
That was creative of them, if rather morbid. “What else did you see that we should know about?”
“Many things.” The nerou’s gaze ran around the battlefield. “But none of them are certain. It all depends on how events unfold in the coming weeks, and whether or not we can find a way to control the demon influx.”
Jeriel moved over to Zoe’s corpse, no emotion reflecting in his gaze. “I’ll have someone put her body in cold storage for now. Her daughter can decide what to do with her later.”
“How many others are dead?” Bartol asked.
Jeriel’s lips thinned. “Two nerou and a few lower caste angels. We were considerably outnumbered once again, despite our precautions, but it could have been worse.”
Countless bodies were scattered everywhere, thicker than after their battle in Alaska. Distracted by the prince, Bartol hadn’t been able to help his father. It must have been overwhelming. Raguel had been forced to execute hundreds of demons on his own, and though the angels were also able to help by exorcising the humans, it was still a lot.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t assist you more,” Bartol said to his father, bowing his head. It bothered him that he’d only fought one while the others had battled so many. Perhaps they’d have had even fewer losses if he’d executed the prince more quickly.
Raguel shook his head. “You did more than enough, son.”
“And we owe you a debt of gratitude,” Jeriel added, gesturing at the dead prince. “If you hadn’t distracted that one right away, he would have gone straight for the nerou and killed them all. After that, he might have gone on to locate and kill the rest around the world as well.”
The nerou with foresight nodded. “That is what I saw in my visions.”
Bartol felt regret over the losses and shock over what might have happened if he hadn’t succeeded against the prince, but he couldn’t miss the opportunity to gain something for himself from of all this. He did have his priorities as a father. “Are you grateful enough to waive my daughter’s duties to serve you?”
Jeriel barked out a laugh. “Nice try, but no. What I can do is allow her to choose her assignment when the time comes, if that helps.”
It wasn’t enough, but it was something. “Very well.”
Lucas returned and narrowed his eyes at the archangel. “These demons…” He paused to sweep his arms out and gesture at the dead hosts. “Why have they been this determined to attack us repeatedly? There is far more going on here than you’re telling us.”
“It’s complicated,” Jeriel said, working his jaw.
“We’re tired of your secrets,” Lucas growled, golden eyes blazing. “If we’re going to keep assisting you, then you cannot keep hiding the truth from us any longer.”
He was voicing Bartol’s same thoughts.
Raguel cleared his throat. “I think it’s time they know the truth.”
&n
bsp; He nodded at his father. “Yes, please.”
“I haven’t been authorized…” Jeriel began.
Yerik appeared before them, flashing from wherever he’d been in the ravaged compound. His kilt was a little worse for wear after the battle, but the powerful man didn’t appear to have many wounds on him. “I don’t care if you’re authorized or not. If you want any more of our help, you’re gonna tell us what the hell is going on. My son has been manipulated and used by demons because of you people putting him in harm’s way. I’m damn well not going to put up with it any longer without an explanation.”
The daimoun was a fearsome sight to behold when he was angry. Most of the time, he preferred to stay out of angel politics and live his life quietly, but every once in a while he drew the line, especially when it came to Tormod. He’d been one of the top leaders who’d orchestrated the supernaturals coming out to the world, using it as a distraction while a small group of them invaded Purgatory to free the nerou. Yerik would do anything to protect his son. It was impressive he’d held back from complaining this long.
A flash of nervousness crossed Jeriel’s eyes. A nephilim might not have the strength to kill an archangel, but the daimoun was old, and he was half demon and half angel without any human side to weaken him. He’d proven his ability to fight powerful foes before, and everyone knew it.
“Very well, I’ll tell you.” Jeriel paused, resettling his cowboy hat on his head. “The demons claim we broke the treaty by banishing and killing those who came to Earth by lawful means. Until we agree to new terms that allow them a place on the mortal plane, they will keep attacking everywhere they can.”
Lucas drew his brows. “Did you break the treaty?”
Jeriel cleared his throat. “That is one interpretation, but we argue otherwise.”
“Damn idiots,” Yerik cursed. “You should have told us about this sooner.”
Bartol rubbed his face. No matter how he looked at it, his daughter was going to grow up in a world with demons. He didn’t like it—not at all. They shouldn’t have been kept in the dark about such a serious matter, especially since it affected nephilim and their offspring more than anyone.
“I agree with you.” Jeriel gave them a sympathetic look. “But it was not my call to make. The others wanted to wait until a new treaty was drawn up before informing anyone.”
Yerik’s brows lifted. “You’re actually negotiating with them?”
The archangel nodded. “A date has been set for one week from now. All that is left is to prepare the location where both parties will meet.”
“Please don’t tell me it’s going to be in Alaska,” Bartol said, grimacing.
Jeriel nodded. “Yes, it will be since the compound there is no longer a secret to the demons, and the reconstruction has already begun. It is remote enough that if any fighting breaks out, there won’t be many innocents caught in the crossfire.”
“My newborn daughter is there,” he growled.
“She won’t be at or near the compound, and you are welcome to put as strong a guard on her as you deem necessary—though we will need you present at the negotiations.”
Bartol took a menacing step toward Jeriel, ready to wrap his hands around the archangel’s neck. “No, I will not leave her while a host of demons are present nearby.”
“We could reduce her time as an enforcer to fifty years if you cooperate.”
Bartol paused from his murderous rage. Now Jeriel wanted to negotiate for better terms for Sybil after turning it down earlier? That was convenient. He must have been holding back earlier, knowing he’d need to play that card. “Can you guarantee that?”
The archangel lifted his chin. “I’ll make it happen and get the guarantee before the negotiations start.”
It was too good an opportunity to pass up, and Bartol doubted such a chance would come up again. The angels were in a bind. If they wanted to resolve the demon situation, they needed him present as a deterrent. He just didn’t like being separated from his daughter or mate while the enemy was so close.
“I’ll watch over Sybil,” Lucas offered.
“No.” Jeriel shook his head. “You’ll be needed at the compound, as well as Melena.”
Yerik straightened his shoulders. “I’ll do it. No one will get past me.”
Bartol didn’t doubt it for a moment, but he was a little nervous allowing the eccentric daimoun near his tiny daughter. He could be rather wild and unpredictable. “Would your mate be with you?”
Lorna was a calming influence on Yerik. With her there, Bartol would feel more reassured that all would be well in his absence.
“I can arrange it,” the daimoun agreed.
“Very well.” Bartol turned toward Jeriel. “Provide me with a written guarantee, and we’ll have a deal.”
“Good. Now, if no one has any other objections, let’s get this place cleaned up.”
Chapter 27
Cori
Cori sat in the rocking chair in her bedroom, feeding Sybil. The baby’s latch had improved, and she fed more easily now. With her first daughter, it had been a lot more difficult to breastfeed, but she was finding it easier this time around. She gazed down at Sybil, amazed she had such a beautiful little girl in her arms. It was like a dream come true. The baby even slept well at night, only waking twice for feedings.
“You need anything?” Ginny asked, poking her head through the open doorway.
Actually, she did. When one breastfed, they were always thirsty and hungry. “Could you get me water and maybe some crackers?”
“Sure.”
As Ginny hurried away, her two little girls appeared in the doorway. Dinara had her purple hair in a ponytail and Aislin had hers in a braid. The one with the ponytail dared to come right up to Cori. “Can I see the baby?”
“Sure.” She lifted the blanket a little to give the girl a better view. “She’s eating right now.”
The child’s eyes rounded. “She’s so small.”
“So were you at this age.”
“That’s what my mommy said.” Dinara frowned. “But I can’t remember.”
“No one ever does,” Cori said, smiling.
Sybil broke her latch and stared at her visitor. A tiny smile formed on her lips.
“Can I see, too?” Aislin asked.
Cori pulled her shirt down to cover her chest since it appeared the baby was done eating. “Sure, come on in.”
This one was the more cautious of the two. She tiptoed her way across the room as if she was afraid to make a noise. Both girls had learned the hard way to be quiet when the baby was sleeping, or else they’d wake Sybil up. It was tough for them at this age, but they did the best they could. Hopefully, they’d be able to return home soon where they could play and be more comfortable. Demon activity had died down recently, so the humans were protesting less. Cori just wanted to be certain before she sent the pixie family back to their house.
“She has pretty eyes,” Aislin said.
Sybil turned her head toward the speaker, giving her a good view of their ocean blue color. It was a similar hue to the nerou and sensors, so it probably wouldn’t change.
Cori smiled gently. “I think so, too.”
“Girls, get out of here,” Ginny admonished, coming into the room.
“We just wanted to see the baby,” Dinara pouted.
“You’ve seen her before.” Her mother paused to set down the glass of water and crackers on a table next to Cori. “Now go get ready for bed. It’s getting late.”
“The sun is still shining,” the braver of the twins continued to argue.
“This is Alaska. I told you the sun always shines much longer here at this time of the year.”
The girls continued chattering to their mother as she led them away. Ginny paused at the door to glance back at Cori. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s no problem.” She glanced down at her baby. “Sybil enjoyed seeing them.”
The pixie walked away, telling her girls to get ready
for their bath. Cori was just getting up to change the baby’s diaper when she detected Bartol’s presence outside. She stood and rocked her daughter, waiting for him to enter the room. He looked clean and groomed, but there was exhaustion in his eyes. She’d sensed he’d been in trouble hours earlier and knew he must have fought another battle.
“It didn’t go well, did it?”
Bartol shook his head. “The demons attacked again, but we stopped them with fewer losses this time.”
Cori braced herself. Hearing about nerou dying upset her even more now that she had a daughter like them. “How many?”
Bartol ran a hand through his golden-brown hair. “Two nerou, a few angels, and one nephilim.”
She took a moment to mourn the loss of the nerou, closing her eyes and holding her daughter close since she was one as well. Cori might have never met any of the students in Russia, but she still cared about their fate. It was too bad about the angels as well…but wait, did he say a nephilim died? “Which nephilim?”
“Zoe.”
Her jaw dropped. “You’re joking. I thought only archangels could kill nephilim.”
“A demon prince joined the battle this time.” Bartol took a seat and started pulling his boots off. “They’re strong enough to take us down.”
He could have died, and she would have never seen him again.
Cori’s chest tightened at the thought. “Did someone kill it?”
Bartol carefully set his boots aside. “I did.”
“Why would you be the one to fight it? Why not your father?”
“There was no time to do anything else. I was the closest one to intercept it before it could try to kill everyone else.” He slicked his hair back out of his eyes, revealing more lines of exhaustion on his forehead. “But I did have help from Zoe and Tormod. Without their help, I wouldn’t have been successful.”
Cori tried her best to rein in her terror at the idea of nearly losing her mate. “Zoe of all people helped you? And died for it?”