“I had to get past their demons first,” he said.
“How many demons have you taken out?”
He seemed to think about that for a second. “I don’t know. I stopped counting two years ago.”
“What was the last count?”
“One hundred and fifty,” he said, and for a second the hardship of every one of those battles and all the battles yet to be fought shadowed across his boyish face.
“This sucks.”
“Little bit,” he said. “But it’s God’s will. Our penance for what our fathers have done.”
“How much do you trust Eli?” I asked. “I mean, how can you be so sure this ‘kill the father and the kids go free’ stuff is true?”
“I trust him. I have to.” Tommy shook his head and turned away, closing the small distance to the railing.
A cool breeze kicked up from the dark valley below and shifted through his sun-bleached curls. I willed the blade of my sword to disperse, then sheathed the hilt and went to lean against the metal railing beside him. “I didn’t mean anything against Eli. I know you guys are tight.”
“You don’t know anything, Emma. You’re so new.” He leaned on his forearms against the railing, gazing out at the city below. “We’re alone in this, Emma. Except for our magisters, we can’t trust anyone. The demons…they’re not all stupid. Some—a lot of them—are smart. Really smart. They know how to blend in, how to stay calm, so you can’t smell them until it’s too late.”
“What do you mean, stay calm?” I asked. “How does that help them?”
“The more excited or emotional they get, the more the brimstone smell comes out of them.” He glanced at me, then away. “It’s like b.o. If they can stay calm and don’t overthink what they want to do or let their lust for killing us get the best of them, they can stand right next to you and you’d never know it.”
“Well, that’s not fair.”
“Not even close.” He rolled his sword in his hand, from one to the other, his eyes fixed on the flash of streetlight off the long, silver blade. “I had one lead me on for two days once. We talked for hours, had drinks, told jokes, just like normal people and then…then she clawed out my femoral artery and tried to suck the blood right from my thigh. I cut off her head while she was still kneeling between my legs.”
“How very vampire-esque.” I didn’t ask what she was doing, kneeling between his legs.
“No. She was a straight-up demon,” he said. “She was just trying to make me bleed out faster. I was an idiot to trust her, to let my guard down like that.”
“Why did you?”
“I don’t know,” he said, purposely avoiding my gaze. “I’d been on my own for a while. I had Eli, but it’s not the same, you know? I just didn’t want to be alone anymore. I needed to feel human again. To connect with someone. That was three years ago, and I haven’t…been with anyone since. It’s hard going through life being suspicious of everyone.”
“And now?” I said.
He looked at me, his clear blue eyes so intense, so full of emotion, of memories. “I know I said I didn’t mean to drag you into this, and I didn’t. I swear. But…I’ve got to admit, it’s hard to regret the day I stumbled onto your doorstep.”
A trickle of heat sizzled over my skin. My belly fluttered. I leaned closer, felt my brow go high with a coy smile. “Yeah? I guess opening my door to you wasn’t the worst thing that’s happened to me.”
I licked my lips and his gaze tracked my tongue like he wanted to do it for me. Muscles low in my body tightened. He was going to kiss me, I could feel it. His gaze flicked from my mouth to my eyes and back again. His lips parted. He leaned closer.
I lifted my face toward him, closed my eyes just as his breath warmed over my lips. He smelled like cinnamon Fireballs, hot and sweet. And then he kissed me, and the taste was just as sweet, just as hot. His tongue traced over my lips, and I opened my mouth, felt the firm sweep of his tongue over my teeth, brushing my tongue.
Too soon he leaned back, breaking the warm seal of our lips. I exhaled. My schoolgirl fantasy finally realized.
“Good luck, Emma,” he whispered, and my overheated brain couldn’t care what he meant.
“You see? That’s all we want,” a raspy male voice said.
I opened my eyes and turned my chin to my shoulder.
“A little slap and tickle. A little swapping spit and…other bodily fluids,” the man said. He was about as tall as Tommy, six-four maybe, but thicker, more like a football player, though he was dressed like a stockbroker.
He wore a blueberry-colored knee-length jacket with a stiff banded collar that reminded me of an Indian style Sherwani suit. Very stylish. His honey-colored hair was neatly combed, parted to the side, and cut conservatively to his collar and over his ears.
Lavender eyes smiled at me, bringing my notice to his goat-like pupils, slit vertically. He titled his head to the side, knowing I was taking his measure. His narrow, pointed nose and matching chin gave him a look of class and sophistication that went perfectly with his outfit, though his larger body type ruined the effect.
The stench of brimstone tickled my nose and a rush of goose bumps shivered over my body. He was both weirdly attractive and creepy.
“It’s just the two of us then?” he said. “Perfect. I do so enjoy these intimate affairs. And in such a lovely setting.”
I snapped my head to Tommy, or at least to where he should’ve been. He was gone. Perfect.
“Who are you?” I asked the demon.
“I am, or I once was, Bariel.” He tugged the cuff of his sleeve with the opposite hand. “You may call me Bob.”
Bob? Seriously? “What do you want, Bob?”
After he coolly tugged the other cuff, he reached across to his hip. At the exact instant his hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword, it materialized. He pulled out the weapon in one fluid movement, the gleaming metal sliding free of its sheath with a soft hiss.
I drew my sword, willing the sparkling particles to gather, forming into the gleaming long blade. My gut balled into a fast knot. Nervous perspiration beaded at the small of my back and above my lip. This probably wouldn’t end well. Crap.
“Dear, sweet, ungrateful child,” he said, his voice growling out the sugary words. “I want you to respect your fathers.”
“Fine. Done. You bet,” I said, my voice going higher with each word. Practicing with Tommy was one thing, but taking on a demon…I wasn’t ready to test how much I’d learned.
“Were it only so easy,” he said, soft laughter making his raspy voice waver. The demon lowered the tip of his sword to the overlook floor, the shiny metal scraping cement as he strolled in a slow circle around me.
“Why is it you children bite the hand that gave you life? Would your anger not be better served directed at those who shun you? Those who would see your souls cast to oblivion rather than take you into the warmth of their holy bosom?”
“Yeah, I know we’re just a bunch of suck-ups. But hey, He’s God.” I shrugged. “Whatcha gonna do?”
“A God that does not love you,” Bob said. “Not like your father. Wouldn’t you rather know what it’s like to be loved unconditionally, the way He loves the humans? Put down your sword, child. Be thankful for the gift of life your angelic father has bestowed on you, and I shall take you to him.”
That made my brain hiccup. “You know who my biological father is?”
“Of course,” Bob said. “We are every bit as connected with each other as we once were with our former brothers. We did not break our bonds with our holy brothers. They broke with us.”
“So at any given time you know where every Fallen is, every demon, what they’re doing, who they’re with?” I asked. If that were true, he had everything Tommy and I needed to get our lives back. If he wasn’t lying.
“Indeed,” Bob said, sounding like a smoker’s version of Eli. “You need only show your good faith by laying down your weapon.”
Faith. There was that word
again. At some point I’d have to get me some of that, and time seemed to be running out.
Bob opened his arms to welcome me into his embrace, his sword still loose in his grip. “Come, child. What’s your name?”
I tightened my hold on the hilt of my sword. “The name’s Hellsbane, demon. And sorry to tell you, it ain’t a coincidence.” It was—but he didn’t need to know that.
He dropped his hands to his sides, tilted his head like a puppy listening to a new sound. “Look around you, nephilim. I have existed longer than anything your eyes behold—longer than the trees, the grass, the very land on which your hovels stand. I am older than the waters in your rivers and the ancient sediment beneath. I am…eternal.”
“Color me impressed,” I said. “You look like a pile of stinking black goo to me. At least you will in about ten seconds.”
His purple, goat-slit eyes flicked to my sword at my shoulder, then back to me, his lips pressing tight. “I’ve been free from the abyss low these past one hundred years. You believe you can best me, child? Very well. Let’s have at it.”
Bob moved so fast I felt, more than saw, him advance on me. I don’t know how my sword blocked his attack, but the impact staggered me backward. He was behind me suddenly, and then he wasn’t. Wind blew past me, and my shoulder burned. Blood trickled from a fine line and Bob appeared several steps away on my right.
Just my luck, I got one who wasn’t only smart, but skilled, too. Crap.
He smiled, flashing his teeth and the whites of his lavender eyes. His sword in hand, low at his waist, he charged, raising his blade the instant he was near enough to strike. I tracked him this time—barely—and blocked his swing, twisting my sword the way Tommy had, circling my blade so my momentum carried my sword up his back.
Bob roared, arching away, spinning to strike again. I got my sword out to block before his slammed down at my head. The blow was more powerful than anything I’d ever felt and drove me hard to the ground, buckling my legs. In the corner of my mind I saw his weight shift, his feet opening to brace his legs and give him leverage for another swing.
Horror-movie-slow, he swung his sword like a baseball bat. He kept his shoulders back, knees bent, weight on his hind leg, aiming for the strike zone—a.k.a. my neck.
I raised my sword to block the strike, knowing his sheer power might drive my sword into my shoulder anyway. I closed my eyes and braced for impact. It never came.
A loud clash of metal echoed, snapped my eyes open. I looked up in time to see Tommy was suddenly there, engaging the demon, driving him back with a blur of sword strikes.
Bob was good, really good, their attacks and parries so fast and hard, sparks showered around them like tiny fireworks. Their speed and strength made the edges of their blades heat up, glowing against the night sky. They moved so fast, my eyes only caught a glimpse of black ooze, a flash of red blood, though neither fighter showed evidence of slowing from the injuries.
Without warning, a hard wind gusted up from the valley, swirling a fine rain of debris around my body, stinging my eyes. For several terrifying seconds I couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe in the vacuum. Then just like that the wind was gone.
And so were Tommy and Bob.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“You’re wounded.” The instant Eli spoke, I exhaled, tension draining from my body. I could breathe again; I could think. I closed my eyes.
Eli knelt beside me. His hand brushed along my shoulder to the back of my neck, his hard chest warming against my arm. I could feel him there, next to me, smell the sweet, comforting scent of his body. His presence seeped over me like I’d lowered myself into a warm, soothing bath.
I let the calming sensation wash away the sting of my wounded shoulder, let him calm my panicked heart. It felt like cheating, like I should be able to handle the fallout from a fight on my own. But I couldn’t refuse the relief he offered any more than I could push water away when I was sitting in it. The feel of him engulfed me.
“What are you doing?”
My eyes snapped open and I lifted my head to see Tommy glaring down at me. No. Not at me. At Eli.
“Did you end him, Thomas?” Eli asked, his voice sliding through me like liquid silk.
“No.” Tommy’s gaze flicked to me then back to Eli. “I lost him.”
“Then the Fallen who sent him will know of Emma Jane,” Eli said.
“You don’t think I know that?” Tommy looked at me, and the tight knot of his brow smoothed. “You okay?”
I nodded. “My arm hurts a little.”
“Doesn’t look that bad.” He raised his sword over his head just as the blade faded to nothing and he slid the hilt into its sheath on his back. His worried gaze still on me, he worked a thin leather strap around his neck from under his shirt, then pulled it off over his head.
There was a small pouch on the end and he held it out to me. “Here, get up and drink this. It’ll make the wound heal faster.”
I frowned at him, then at the little pouch. The comfort of Eli’s embrace seemed wrong after Tommy’s kiss, but I couldn’t help wanting to stay in his arms just a little longer. “What is it?”
Tommy shook the necklace at me, anxious. “It’s a sip of holy water. I refilled it at Saint Anthony’s. C’mon, Emma, get up.” His gaze flicked to Eli. His voice turned hard. “Let her go.”
I looked over my shoulder at the angel beside me and my chest squeezed. He was…beautiful. His clear, ice blue eyes gazed up at Tommy, his expression serene. His perfect mouth gave nothing away, neither smiling nor frowning, and only a slight lift of his brow beneath the dark wisps of his bangs seemed to indicate his question of Tommy’s tone.
Eli took his hand from my back and rose to his feet in one slow fluid movement. “This cannot be allowed, Thomas. She isn’t ready. You must find the demon and dispatch him.”
“I know,” Tommy said, offering me his hand. I took it, and he pulled me to my feet, shoving the soft little pouch into my palm. I willed my blade to disperse, then sheathed the hilt and glanced at the cut on my upper arm.
It was deep—I’d need stitches—but it’d stopped bleeding, and it didn’t hurt as much as it should. My attention turned to the tiny little water pouch and the impossibly small cork.
“So, uh, what happened? One second you were there and the next it was just me and demon Bob,” I said, finally yanking the itty-bitty stopper out before I downed the stale water in one gulp.
Tommy took the necklace back and looped it over his head without meeting my eyes. “I wanted to see if you could handle a demon on your own. I was close by.”
“Oh. Well, I can answer that. No,” I said.
“It was a foolish risk,” Eli said. “Bariel is far too strong for an untrained illorum to defeat.”
Tommy shot him a withering glare. “You think I would’ve left her if I’d known how old the bastard was?”
Eli slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks, still wearing the priestly suit I’d first seen on him. He lowered his chin and looked up at Tommy. “She shouldn’t have been left at all.”
Tommy shifted on his feet, shoved a hand through his hair. “What’re you even doing here, Eli? You said this wouldn’t be a problem. What’s going on with you?”
“I am her magister,” Eli said, the calm, quiet tone of his voice making Tommy’s seem all the less for it. “It’s my duty to train her.”
“And that’s it?” Tommy asked, his hands propped on his hips. “Nothing else? Nothing I should be worried about?”
Eli looked at me, his gaze so intense I felt the weight of his stare all the way to my gut. He looked away, shook his head. “Nothing else.”
“You know I love you, Eli,” Tommy said. “You’re the only friend I’ve had for years. But if it comes down to it…”
Eli looked at Tommy and something passed between them, an understanding of some kind, and Eli nodded. “Agreed.”
Tommy scrubbed a hand down his face. His gaze flicked from Eli to me and back again,
then he sighed. “Yeah. Okay. I’m going to see if I can pick up the demon’s trail. I have a good idea who sent him.”
“The televangelist?” I asked.
Tommy nodded. “Yeah. He’s probably headed back to report. Since I know where he’s going, I should be able to cut him off.”
“You must,” Eli said. “A Fallen wouldn’t waste an opportunity to destroy an illorum so new to duty. He’ll double his efforts to kill her before she becomes any greater threat.”
“I know,” Tommy said, then he looked at me. “Listen, Emma. Go home. Lock the doors. Your threshold protects your home. Demons—anything non-human—can’t come in without being invited. You’ll be fine if you don’t give permission. In fact, don’t even answer your door until I get back. You understand?”
I started to nod, but Eli spoke first. “Emma Jane will stay with me.”
Tommy narrowed his eyes at the angel. “No. She can go home; she’ll be safe there. From everyone.” He said the last as though it had more meaning than the simple words implied. I didn’t have a clue what was going on between the two of them, but whatever it was, the fine hairs up and down my arms suddenly stood on end.
A tingling wash of energy rippled in front of me, similar to the power I’d felt in Saint Anthony’s Chapel, but different, hotter, more focused. Tommy and Eli were facing each other, with me to the side between them. The power wave hit Tommy head on, blowing his curls from his face, and he gasped. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, bowing his head.
“Thomas, I care for you deeply, but do not forget to whom you speak.” Eli seemed taller suddenly, grander. “Find Bariel and dispatch him before he reports to his deliverer. Emma Jane must continue her training.”
Tommy blinked up at Eli, his chin still down, his tone notably more reverent. “With all due respect, from what you told me about the last one, maybe…Maybe it’d be safer if you didn’t spend as much time with her.”
“I’ve trained countless illorum, Thomas,” Eli said. “It is my duty.”
Tommy stood straighter. “But only one of them was a woman.”
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