Death of a Demon (The Dark Angel Wars 3)

“Definitely. We’re all relieved.”

My lips pressed together as an awkward silence rose between us. It was starting to feel like neither of us wanted to leave, but I couldn’t figure out why Noah was wandering around by himself on this floor. The residence halls were all above us. Dining and lounging below. No one except for administration personnel came to this hallway. Well, that and people trying to break into Luke’s office.

“Did you need help with something?” I asked weakly.

“Oh, no.” He waved his hand. “I’m good. You want me to walk you back to your room? Never can be too careful these days.”

Managing a casual smile, I shook my head. “Nah, I’m just going to wait here. I like the quiet. It’s impossible to get a moment alone when you have a roommate.”

“Right.” He raked his hand through his long hair, his eyes sweeping the darkness behind me.

For a moment, it seemed like he was unsure what to do. Leave me alone and vulnerable or grant me my privacy. I prayed that he would choose the latter. Gabe was probably already done in Luke’s office and there was no telling how much longer we’d get before someone else came along.

Finally, with a defeated shrug, he swatted me on the shoulder. “Good night to ya. Take care, Lizzy.”

“Night.”

I watched him go, taking all my nervous energy along with him. When I could no longer hear his heavy footsteps on the carpet, I wheeled toward Luke’s office and pushed forward through the dark door frame.

“Gabe?” My voice came out in a shrill whisper. “Are you still here?”

“Yes.” He appeared suddenly beside me, making my heart jump in my chest. “Who was that?”

“Noah Brown.”

His lips curled back into a confused grimace. “What was he doing down here?”

I shrugged. “Wandering the halls, maybe. I didn’t interrogate him. I was too busy worrying about getting caught.”

“Right.” With a curt nod of his head, he held out a dark mass in his hands. “Found the box. Let’s get out of here.”

Before I could stop myself, my hands reached out to grab it. The box felt lighter than I remembered. I wasn’t sure if I was expecting a powerful weapon to weigh a ton, but in my grip, it felt flimsy and weak. However, I wouldn’t be fooled. Many a demon had underestimated me and look where that lead them.

“What do you think it does?” I asked, holding it up to the single ray of moonlight filtering in through the open doorway. It fell on the circular lock, like the hand of God reaching out to tell me to open it.

Gabe shrugged. “Maybe it sucks in demon entities.”

“Like in Ghostbusters?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“What’s that?”

The clueless look on his face made me chuckle. “Never mind. You’re probably right.”

My fingers traced the round lock. Luke hadn’t found anything odd about this box, except for the fact that it was hundreds of years old. But the priest we’d taken it from had been using it in an exorcism. Surely, it did something close to what Gabe predicted. Maybe, it could even extract my demon.

A flare of hope shot up inside me. I’d never considered the box as a remedy for my personal situation. Maybe, just maybe, I held the cure in my own hand. We would never know, unless I tried it.

Gabe stuck his head out the door. I could tell he was antsy to get out of here, expecting company with every creak of this old building. Still, my feet remained glued to the ground, my eyes attached to the simple wooden box in my hands.

Psyche's Urn. It seemed so silly to think it held magical powers. Two years ago, I would’ve committed myself to the insane asylum for even considering that something so benign could harbor awesome mystical abilities. But now, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities. One peek, that’s all I needed. One peek inside to know if this box really was the weapon that was going to save us all.

My fingertips pressed gently on the round lock, expecting resistance. It turned willingly. Five audible clicks and the lid sprung open the tiniest bit.

“What are you doing?” Gabe demanded, his voice sounding far away.

I stared at the minuscule crevice between lid and box. “This is it. This is what I need.”

His warning touch on my arm wasn’t enough to keep me from springing the lid fully open. I peered inside, my eyes drinking in the dark space within. Tipping it open to the sliver of moonlight, I hissed with disappointment.