MID-MORNING sun punched streaks of blazing light through low-lying cloud cover. Instead of singeing him, the rays presented as a slight prickle on his skin, little more than an annoyance. Like the greater speed he now enjoyed, this gift from his Engel would benefit them both in the battle ahead.
Lukas settled with feet spread, knees bent, and weight balanced, ready to end any threat to his mate. The short distance from the front porch gave Sariel as much space as he could grant while preventing anything from circling behind them.
“And our first two guests are now lumbering forward…You ready Crystine?” A short distance away, behind thick oak trees, each bore a different look from those he fought last night. Such diversity spoke of evil’s desperation in fulfilling the damned prophecy.
Smaller than yesterday’s creatures, they appeared older with cracked leather hides, split from age. With time comes experience. He wondered what special skills they’d developed—certainly not stealth. A small herd of elephants tromping through these woods would’ve made less noise.
“Just try and keep up, vampire.”
He prayed Crystine’s arrogance was born of skill and experience.
After crossing his arms and shifting his weight to one foot, he tapped out a bored rhythm with the other. If they were fast, thirty yards might seem like mere inches. The muscles in his arms bunched in preparation.
“Three more devil’s spawn are approaching from different directions. They’re determined but lack coordination. It will cost them.” No one would harm his mate. Possessive rage made his grip tighten around the sword’s hilt as he pulled it from its sheath. “We should have several minutes at best between attacks.” His nostrils flared and his lips pulled back from the stench the minions radiated. They think they’ll take Sariel from me? Never.
His guttural roar stopped both demons in place. Each cast a wary glance at the other before advancing.
“Come, demons, my steel grows cold. It has been at least twelve hours since its tasted demon acid.”
The ghost who’d encouraged Sariel’s trust in him appeared by his side. The strangeness of her chosen companions keeps growing.
“Keep your head, Lukas, and you’ll survive this. I’ll help watch your back until Sariel needs me.”
Lukas snorted. “Since when and how does a ghost enter into battle?”
“I’ve watched over her since her birth. Talk later. Battle now, vampire. You’ll have just enough time to regroup before more arrive.”
The ghost’s stern voice amused him. Mr. Casper taking him to task—another first. On the other hand, he wouldn’t insult an ally in his quest for Sariel’s heart.
“Vampire, are we interrupting your meal?” The first demon’s short, squarely-built frame lacked the few tufts of straggly hair present in younger demons. His companion appeared a little older with long crags along the thickened hide of his arms.
Lukas nodded for Crystine to take the younger one, hoping he hadn’t underestimated her strength and skill. She stood to his right, short swords in hand, crouched and ready.
He had to smile at the sound of his Engel drawing her weapon. Staying behind and to his left side afforded him plenty of room to maneuver while at least outwardly protecting his flank. Pride in his mate flickered through his mind even though she’d disobeyed him earlier. In reviewing her memories, he hadn’t yet observed fine details of her fighting skill.
“Come, I grow weary of your dawdling. Are you frightened?” Lukas needed to end these two quickly in order to give Sariel a clear pathway to safety.
Like himself, these beasts should be weaker during the day. Since they moved with a more fluid gait than he’d witnessed in any other demon, they might have other nasty surprises in store. Dealing with the unknown left all their fates undetermined.
The sooner Crystine could dispatch the younger one, the sooner Sariel could leave. Though small, the nearest village was only a short distance away. The age and experience he’d sensed in the witch earlier should yield enough spells and sufficient strength for the battle yet to come.
“I named your buddies Heckyl and Jeckyl last night before I dispatched their friends to hell. They followed soon after.” Come on, pricks, let’s get this done. “Seems Heckyl fancied himself an Ivy Leaguer. Wondering if he’s educating his boss as we speak? I’ve heard he doesn’t like failure.”
Growled threats and unadulterated rage crossing their faces made him smile. Both creatures charged. Bingo, these demons are clueless. Traveling in packs was disconcerting. Only one reason came to mind for them to form an alliance. The prophecy.
Red flaming eyes gave no distinction of iris or pupil, merely differing intensities within sockets disproportionally large for their flattened skulls. On closer inspection, he surmised perhaps they weren’t true flames, but he couldn’t discern any tissue there either. Wide, flattened snouts emitted trails of greenish vapor in the cool morning air.
As they moved forward, the younger angled to pass between himself and Crystine, spreading his arms wide. Razor-sharp, curved talons extended the length of their chunky digits. The wicked gleam in his red gaze—a nonverbal intent to kill. Maybe they thought her an unworthy adversary, that she wielded two blades out of fear. He prayed they were wrong.
When his own challenger feinted left to flank him, Lukas countered the move with a side step. Yep, his demon proved a little faster than normal but not a match for his own speed.
Skirting back to his original course, his opponent obviously sought to wedge vampire and witch back-to-back between the demons.
Hmm, no. Lukas took advantage of his position and speed on the savage’s approach. His blade sliced through the demon’s stumped neck with a dull grating sound.
The thud of the dumb shit’s head’s landing gave little satisfaction with the sudden ache in Lukas’ flank. Deep parallel furrows in his skin marked the brute’s passing. Pain provided a physical reminder of the thing’s agility. With a vicious kick, he sent the fallen body out of his way, sending sprays of acid to scorch surrounding grasses.
These weren’t drones. They demonstrated agility and precision even if they lacked greater intelligence. The ability to goad a demon into premature and reckless action had given him a slight edge.
Thick, black goo oozed from its stumped shoulders, hissing through shriveling grass and fouling the soil. Less than twenty-four hours ago, that same type of acid had burned his skin to the bone. It seemed a different lifetime.
Metal slicing through hide focused his attention on Crystine, her skills impressive. A second demon head rolled on the ground, its grotesque flesh imploding as her gaze flicked around.
“Crystine?” Sariel’s voice sounded thin and strained.
“Uninjured. How bad, vampire?” Crystine’s sharp tone indicated her grudging temporary truce.
“I’m fine. More trouble coming—my side.” Blood trickled down his flank. With Sariel’s essence still in his system, his wounds healed even as he waited for the next onslaught.
A glance at Sariel revealed her battle ready with a white-knuckled grasp of her weapon and wide eyes betraying anxiety. Her gaze dissected his wound before searching his face. The tight smile didn’t mask the concern in her eyes.
“Shit.” Sudden gusting wind snatched his hair about his face and brought his attention to the side of the cottage, his worst nightmare. The velocity of the fast-approaching, seven-foot whirlwinds made him growl.
As an ancient vampire, he’d heard of these particular demons but had never faced them. They appeared as three mini tornadoes, close together, remaining equidistant even as they moved forward.
Each funnel of air rotating clockwise seemed to feed the other. A mixture of twigs, leaves, and other debris whirled through the surrounding air and sifted to the ground short distances away. The darker center masses signaled the advance of hell’s greatest fighters. The advent guard of evil.
Always in groups of three. Now they had no choice other than to stand and fight. Are there any more of these things? He couldn’t risk Sariel leaving and being stalked. She wouldn’t survive.
“Vampire, take Sariel. Go.” Crystine’s harsh voice betrayed her anger.
“No, Crystine. I’ll not leave without you!”
“We stand and fight.” Lukas saw no way to tackle this moving triangle of death with normal tactics. Their gyral approach snatched at his clothes even from a distance. They inspired awe despite the fact he plotted their death.
The chances of him defeating all three were slim, but knowing more demons approached, he could do nothing differently. If he could separate them, Crystine would have a better chance of taking at least one head, hopefully two.
Sariel’s escape was no longer possible. Considering what he knew of the prophecy, flying his mate to safety was not an option despite his earlier threat. Some higher power had decreed a witch and angel involved with this prophecy, so they would fight together and live or die as fate decreed.
“I can’t get a fix on ’em to stop their motion. Never seen anything like ’em.” Crystine’s voice reflected apprehension, mingled with her obvious confusion.
“I can. Be ready, witch.” Timing his jump, Lukas leapt in the air, sword raised high. Feet first, he plunged amid the cyclonic death machines.
The slanted arc of his blade in descent tugged half of one demon’s head from its shoulders. Acid spray burned his neck and face.
His daring plan yielded mixed results. The mini-tornado motions ceased. The price to stop their dynamic gyrations was paid in blood as claws raked his flanks and back. Thin crimson rivulets soaked his vest.
Fear for his mate kept him focused and blocked out pain. Panic over the demon’s deadly claws shredding his Engel gave him strength. His sword dropped to the ground, useless now in close quarters battle.
The dagger from his waist sheath became an extension of his arm while small branches and leftover debris pummeled his body before settling back to earth.
Two of the largest demons he’d ever faced crowded him. One down and one behind him left Crystine to face the last.
The howl of rage behind him overshadowed his gasp of pain. Burning agony seared through him as talons held him fast and massive teeth tore into his shoulder.
With a reverse grip, he arced his thrust up and back, plunging his blade with all his strength and praying he penetrated the demon’s eye.
Gratification filled him at its roar of suffering. Sensing Sariel’s advance, he turned to see her blade take its head. Viscous fluid spurted from severed vessels in the skull’s descent. Meadow grass sizzled under its scorching weight. With a vicious snarl, he sent it flying. More acid splashed over his leg, burning through his boot.
Sariel’s storm-green gaze searched him, taking note of his wounds in a split second of a fighter’s scrutiny. His eyes would be blazing cerulean blue by now, yet he didn’t see fear when their gazes met, only concern.
A second passed. He realized he encountered no ill effects from the demon’s bite. Because of his Engel’s blood taken last night?
Little did Sariel know there were so many changes in store for her, his mate. Some would be a great advantage, like the telepathic link formed from a blood exchange. Her unique nature necessitated he keep her skills sharp, as a precaution.
“Back-to-back, Lukas. Crystine’s holding her own. They’re more interested in you right now.” Sariel turned away and raised her weapon in time to meet an oncoming brute. In stunned silence, he watched her flash to the side. Her sword was little more than a blur as her two-handed swing dispatched it.
Damn!
Instead of the usual slow disintegration after his victories, the demon withered for several seconds then imploded. There were no remains, no lingering foul stench, just gone. Instinctively, he knew she’d killed it instead of sending it back to hell. She truly is an angel.
A glance in Crystine’s direction revealed one demon frozen in place while she battled another. Her speed and strength drew him up short. He vowed not to underestimate her. No doubt she still intended his death later.
Two more demons approached from his right, angling toward Crystine. Her slight stance adjustment acknowledged their passage.
“Come, we need to protect Crystine’s flank.” After pivoting, he plucked her from the ground and vaulted over to land between Crystine and the next wave of evil. By placing Sariel to his back, she’d have greater protection.
Never had so many of hell’s agents assembled during the day. Clearly, they wanted to take advantage of his former weakness. They possessed little knowledge of their opponents.
A grunt from Crystine demonstrated the only indication of her injury, minor from his angle. Seconds later her growl of victory resonated in the air.
Slow, halting movement revealed the witch’s psychic hold weakening on her other opponent. Sariel’s anticipation of the scene unfolding indicated their years of fighting together. She’d circled behind and with a whoosh of her blade, detached its head.
Twin snarls brought his attention back to his own oncoming threat. One beast veered off toward Crystine. Lukas’ sword flashed again, missing a kill stroke due to its incredible speed. Yet the severed hands dropping to the ground bought them a few seconds’ reprieve.
Shoving his opponent backward gained another instant to check on the women. In that millisecond, his soul swelled with pride. Sariel had intercepted the beast headed their way. She fought with courage, determination, and skill, yet received no wounds. Her steel gleamed in the sunlight, streaked with demon gore. His warrior angel.
A simple rescue had morphed into a fight for their lives with the end uncertain. Hell’s agents held greater strength if not speed. Yet the girls fought smarter, using their lower center of gravity and better balance to their advantage. Their agility allowed them to outmaneuver their opponents time and again.
His newest adversary appeared younger still, and slower. When its head hit the ground, he scanned the area with his newly acquired perceptions and found no more demons in the immediate area.
They’d survived—for now.
Four long scratches marred Sariel’s flank. Demon gore splattered her clothes. Of the three of them, she’d sustained the least serious injuries. He wouldn’t underestimate her again. “How bad, Sariel?”
“Only minor…It can wait till we’re out of here.”
To his left, Crystine gave a savage kick to a fast-withering body. She’d not fared so well in the skirmish. Blood oozed steadily from her belly wound.
“How bad is it?” Lukas addressed Crystine as he checked Sariel for wounds, unable to take her word for confirmation.
Crystine winced, from pain or seeing his hands on Sariel, he didn’t know. “Not too bad, I think. We’d better get out of here before reinforcements come.”
Seconds later, only his preternatural speed interrupted her gradual slump to the ground. Wisps of black hair covered her face, but a steady pulse and respiration eased his anxiety.
A pic of her in my arms would be nice, mounted on my living room wall…Something I could show her later.
Sariel knelt by her friend’s side and snatched at the slashed vest surrounding the wound. “No. Crystine!” The torn cloth she applied to the wound soon soaked through with blood.
Without hesitation, Lukas nudged her hands away, sliced his wrist on a fang, and held it over Crystine’s open gash. “I can heal the wound but not remove the venom if she’s been bitten. Has she cast a spell for protection?”
“Yes…but I’ve never seen her wounded this bad.” Sariel’s shrill voice bristled with disbelief as she felt for her friend’s pulse. “It’s so fast…” Tears streaked her face as she stroked Crystine’s hair.
“Fast but regular. My blood will heal the wound, Sariel.”
“She will have no lasting damage, do not fear.” Aleyn’s old-English accent was filled with confidence.
The ghost’s sudden appearance proved unsettling regardless of the assurance offered. His gray, translucent form hovered closer to the wounded witch as he continued.
“Though I suggest we leave here soon. More of these creatures are coming. And unless I’m wrong, though I’m not, they’ll be sending something much worse than this.”
“From which direction? What type?” Lukas scanned the perimeter.
“Don’t know. Didn’t observe ’em, Lukas.” Aleyn blew out a ghostly sigh.
“How could this happen? All these years, she’s never been injured like this before…” Morning sun glistened off the tears falling to Crystine’s hair.
“Maybe she paid more attention to you than her own adversary.” His heart wrenched with Sariel’s stricken gaze. He would do all in his power to protect her friend—who wanted him dead.
“Sariel, last night, your blood counteracted the venom in my system. My blood still contains some type of immunity. She’s going to be fine.” Tugging his cell from his vest pocket, he verified the ETA with his pilot.
“Well, ghost, it seems you’ve cornered the market on fortune telling. Do we have time to wait for my chopper or do we move?”
With an air of dignity transcending time and geography, Aleyn replied, “Your transportation will arrive in time.”