by Kristie Cook
I’d lost my son. I’d lost my wife and our unborn child. The world seemed to have lost anything still good in it.
Take me, too.
“Is that what you really want? Would you come back home if that’s where she is?” The deep, Otherworldly voice spoke the old language of the Daemoni Ancients as evil blanketed over me. I peeled one eye open. An orangish-yellow Demon balanced on the edge of a slab of marble a few feet away. I was too exhausted to fight. Too drained to give a shit anymore. “Shall I find her for you?”
My eyes fell closed again. I tightened my hold on Alexis’s small body. The word came out as a whisper. “Yes.”
The Demon’s evil presence disappeared. As the sun rose higher, the odor of burning ozone filled the air. A distant part of my brain urged me to get up, to find shelter from the fallout that would likely blow this way from the mushroom clouds we’d seen near Baltimore and Richmond. Hell, Lucas probably planned a direct hit here in Washington, D.C., at any moment. If I knew him at all, which I did too well, he certainly had. But I couldn’t bring myself to care. I slipped off into a doze.
“You will follow her where she goes?” The Demon’s voice startled me partially awake.
I sighed. It didn’t need me to answer. As a spirit, even an evil one, it already knew.
“Even into the dark?”
Again, it required no verbal reply. But I knew she wasn’t there. Not my Alexis. She’d be in Heaven with the rest of the Amadis matriarchs.
“Come with me and make your choice.”
I went with the Demon.
Read Fractured Faith.