Death of a Demon (The Dark Angel Wars 3)

“You’re awake.”

His hands clutched painfully at my shoulders and pulled me into an embrace. Once again, I wanted to melt into the touch, but Mona wouldn’t allow it. The physical display of affection made her sick. She allowed it just long enough to make he wouldn’t become suspicious.

“I’m fine,” she said to him. “Really.”

“If you hadn’t woken up in another five minutes, I was going to spill everything to Luke,” he whispered. “About Seth, Psyche’s Urn, and your attack. Was it the box that did this to you?”

“No, don’t do that.” Mona’s voice was sharp. She cleared her throat and softened her tone. “It wasn’t the box. Just another attack. Stupid demon. Always getting in the way.”

Gabe stared into my eyes, his own gaze burning with deep and unsettled emotion. I could only hope he wasn’t convinced by Mona’s lie.

“Did you find a hiding place for Psyche’s Urn,” Mona asked.

I could tell she was searching...waiting for his answer. Nonchalantly, she studied my fingernails and picked at the nail bed.

“The statue in the fourth floor corridor. You know, the founder? There’s a hollow base under it. I hid it there.”

My heart rate picked up and I could tell Mona was excited. Excited about what, I couldn’t be sure. She already had what she wanted. Me in a living, breathing casket. What else cou

ld she need the box for?

“That’s good news.” She leaned forward, pressing a hand to Gabe’s cheek.

I flinched at the touch. She shouldn’t be touching him like that. Only I was allowed to trail my fingers along his scar, over his jaw and the perfect bow of his lips. But she continued the caress and he leaned into our hand, his eyelids closing tight.

I could feel her moving forward and I fought hard against it. Despite my weak blows, she brushed my lips lightly against his. He reacted, his hands clutching at my sides and pulling me in tight. Our lips met in a desperate kiss that tingled all the way down to my toes. I watched in misery as Mona continued to embrace him, not pulling back until my head spun with rage.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against mine. His fingers intertwined with ours.

“For what?”

He was silent for a moment before his gaze met ours. There was something else in that gaze, a deep sadness. It tore at my heart.

“Never mind.” Pulling away, he smiled grimly. “I just don’t ever want to lose you, Lizzy Redding. Promise me that won’t happen.”

Mona curled my lips into a sweet smile and batted my eyes. “I promise.”

He’d never hear the scream I let loose inside my own head. He wouldn’t know the utter torture of those words. Because despite Mona’s empty promise, that it was too late.

He’d already lost me.

Chapter Fifteen

By the next morning, I’d given up on screaming and fighting my way to the surface. The mental confines of my prison held tight, keeping me locked behind my blue eyes. No one had noticed a difference in my personality. They’d been too busy.

With demons attacking the manor in waves, the Nephilim were struggling to keep their panic in check. It was the perfect distraction. Mona went about my daily life without stirring up the tiniest bit of suspicion.

The reasonable part of me didn’t blame my friends and family. They had a war to fight.

The other part of me hated them for their blindness.

“What? Given up already?” Mona asked aloud as she inspected the contents of my closet. Raquel had already gone down to eat breakfast.

Never, I hissed.

Despite my anger, I remained curled in a ball at the back of my mind.

“Good, because I’ve got someone I want you to meet.” She picked at the clothes and sighed in disgust. “Don’t you have anything better to wear? Something that isn’t so...drab?”