Death of a Demon (The Dark Angel Wars 3)

Ashley and I rounded the large wooden pulpit. By this time, I had my trusty daggers in my hands. Raquel and Adam took the north side. The priest had run to Gabe’s aid and my heart thudded in relief as I saw him begin to stir.

The demon attacked Ashley first, driving her to the ground with his foot on her chest. She gasped for air, but managed to swipe at his calves. He rolled to the floor, laughing maniacally. Gritting my teeth, I shot forward, feeling the power in my muscles as I drew on the angelic powers gifted to me by my Nephilim father. Drive left, dodge right, he evaded my every strike. To the priest watching wide-eyed nearby, I’m sure we appeared as blurs, moving too fast for the human eye to see.

Suddenly, everything stopped. It took a moment for my mind to catch up to what was happening. A hand clutched my windpipe, cutting off my source of air. The demon raised me up by my throat and dug his fingernails viciously into my skin. Hot blood ran down my neck and soaked into my black t-shirt. I kicked out, but it was no good. He had me in his grip and the glint in his blood-red eyes told me I was done for.

“Weak. So very weak,” he growled angrily. “And you expected to beat me?”

As I struggled like a worm on a hook for the tiniest breath, a shout went out. Gabe rammed him squarely in the stomach with his shoulder, sending me reeling to the floor. Coughing and sputtering for breath, I looked up to see my friends trading blows with the demon. They moved down the aisles of pews. Splintered wood flew, shards piercing the fragile drywall.

In all the commotion, no one but me noticed a small child enter the sanctuary. He stood in a white robe and gawked at the destruction. With short brown hair cropped above his ears, wide-eyes, and pink cheeks, he had to have been only about six years old.

Bile rose from my stomach when I saw him. Without hesitation, I lunged from the floor toward him. Someone had to get him out of here. The last thing we needed was a hostage situation. But as I moved, I caught a glimpse of the demon to my right. The fight had stalled for a moment. A devilish grin spread across his cheeks, hunger burning in his eyes. I knew why.

He’d spotted the boy.

Chapter Two

It became a race across the church for the life of one tiny boy. Blood pumped through my veins like tiny shards of ice. The blur of movement to my right told me the demon and I were neck-and-neck, both reaching out toward the child. His mouth fell open as he watched the race toward him. Drawing closer, I could see the specks of gold in his wide brown eyes. Fear and uncertainty clouded them. He had no idea how fragile he was—how a demon like this could snap him in two without blinking.

I had to reach him first. His life depended on me.

My fingers clasped the front of his white cotton robe and my arm encircled his back. Without thinking, I threw him over my shoulder and sprinted down the nearest pew. Claws grazed against the back of my t-shirt. Snatching a silver dagger from my belt, I tossed it behind me and smiled when I heard a satisfying demonic roar of anger.

“Shh, shh, you’ll be okay.” I pressed the little boy to my chest as he began to wail.

His little fists beat against my arms, but I kept him in my protective grasp as I glanced over my shoulder. Gabe and my friends had caught up to our demon target and engaged him in battle once again. Loosening my grip on the little boy, he dropped his arms in defeat, giant crocodile tears glistening on his round cheeks.

“Come,” I said, taking his tiny hand in mine. It was hot and sweaty. “Let’s get you out of here.”

The tears clearing from his eyes, he gazed up at me, suddenly the image of tiny strength. With a nod of his head, he followed me up the side of the pews and to the front of the church where the priest still stood. I deposited the boy into his arms and they hugged tightly.

“Aaron,” the priest breathed. He sobbed into his hair. “You weren’t supposed to come in today. I told your mom you could have the day off from altar training.”

“She thought you needed some company,” the boy said between sniffles. His little voice made me want to cry. “That you sounded sad. And I could cheer you up.”

The priest smiled through his tears. “She’s right. But I’m afraid I put you in extreme danger.”

“We’ve got to go,” I told them. Although I hated to interrupt this beautiful reunion, a demon was still rampaging through the pews. “Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

As if on cue, the battle returned to the front of the church. Cries of anger and demonic growls filled the air. I crouched in front of the priest and the altar boy, shielding them with my arms. Gabe struck out with his sword, driving the demon to seek shelter behind the pulpit.

“Go, go, go,” I whispered, waving my arms. “Get out of here.”

B

efore they could move, a terrible scream shattered the air. It had come from the demon. He was staring at the warriors, fear burning in his red eyes, and backing himself into a corner.

“We’ve got him,” Raquel cried drawing my attention. Her hair had fallen loose from its braid and blood had smeared on her cheek.

The team surrounded the pulpit, and slowly moved in on the demon hissing behind it. They all looked like they’d been put through the ringer. This was definitely one of our tougher exorcisms. My father wasn’t going to be happy to hear the details.

Ashley pointed at Raquel. “Go around back. We’ve got him cornered.”

Before anyone could move, the pulpit burst into a million tiny wooden shards in front of our faces. Shielding the two humans from the debris, I felt a strong force of energy pass in front of me. Like a strong wind, it caused devastation and ruin, throwing us all to the floor. I searched over my charges, but no harm done. Aaron clung to the priest’s robes, but he didn’t cry out in pain. He was such a strong little boy.

With a growl, Adam managed to get back to his feet the quickest of all of us. The demon was moving so fast, I could hardly see him. But that didn’t stop Adam from taking a swing with his wicked sword and stopping the demon in its tracks, the blade just a hairbreadth shy from cleaving his chest in two.

“Move again, scum, and you’re worm food,” he snarled. His lips curled back to reveal his perfectly straight white teeth, bloody from the battle.