Soul of a Demon (The Dark Angel Wars 2)

Elizabeth’s smile wilted as she stopped in front of her and looked down at the kneeling woman. Without warning, she backhanded her across the cheek. Granny’s head turned at the impact and she had to catch herself from falling to the ground. Spitting out a mouthful of blood, she turned back to her daughter and grinned, her teeth red.

“I guess you finally get your revenge.” She spat again. “Kill me, if that’s what you want. At least I know the place I’m going won’t have you in it.”

“Oh, no, no, no.” Elizabeth turned her head to smile at me. Darkness twinkled in her eyes. “I won’t be the one killing you. My beloved daughter will have the honor. She has as many grievances to file with you as I do, I’m sure.”

Granny harrumphed and spit out another mouthful of blood.

Every atom in my body split apart for the briefest moment. Elizabeth wanted me to kill Granny. I’d sent plenty of demons back into the ground, but Nephilim didn’t harm humans. It was a part of our code - our very being. The idea made me sick, no matter how much I hated that woman kneeling in front of me.

“Come, come.” She waved me forward. “Don’t be shy. You’ve already got a weapon in your hands. Use it.”

I looked down. The dagger I’d grabbed just moments ago to kill Elizabeth was still in my hand. The tip gleamed in the midday light of the forest. It could slice through skin, sinew, and even bone. The Nephilim only had the best.

But could something so small and insignificant kill a woman as domineering as my grandmother? I found myself staring at her and asking that very question. She had seemed so untouchable my whole life. Like a god standing on Mount Olympus, ready to crush me with her rod of lighting. Surely, this little knife couldn’t eradicate all that. All the fear and pain she’d put me through. I wouldn’t believe it.

“I don’t know...” I glanced at Elizabeth. She stood watching me, her lips pursing out impatiently. “I don’t know if I can do it.”

“You will.” Her eyes narrow in suspicion. “You will prove your loyalty to me and my Prince. Or, you will die. Take your pick.”

My lips went dry. I ran my tongue along them as I thought about the implications of what she asked. Could I kill the woman who’d raised me? The same woman who had also tried to murder me?

I thought back to that day in the forest when I’d been hunting ferals with Gabe. Seeing Granny walk through the forest, free and clear of any guilt for giving me up to a demon, had made me burn with anger. I would’ve killed her then had Gabe let me. The fury I felt then had driven me in my hunting and my training. A byproduct of the demon residing in my head. That anger had since been buried beneath hours and h

ours of training with Manuel. I needed it now. I needed it to survive.

Three more ferals appeared out of the woods. They prowled behind me, waiting for Elizabeth’s command to attack. I watched them out of the corner of my eye and shifted slightly to keep them in view. Having demons at my back made every part of my Nephilim body shiver with distrust. A Nephilim should never turn her back on a demon. Gabe had taught me that.

Granny stared up at me. Large bags had formed under her eyes and wrinkles around her mouth since the last time we’d met, face-to-face. The last few months had definitely aged her. Her skin was sallow and patchy. She’d lost a good twenty pounds as well. Still, the strength of her hatred for me burned bright in her alert eyes. I could feel it oozing from her skin, like the aroma of roadkill left on the highway during a summer day.

“Get it over with, will ya?” she grumbled, shaking her head. “If you’re going to kill me, do it now.”

My hand trembled as I adjusted my grip on the blade. Sweat trickled down the back of my neck, cold against my feverish skin.

“Do it.” Elizabeth bobbed her head. “Do it, now.”

My eyes snapped shut. Somewhere, inside of me, I knew that familiar rage still existed. Reaching out with my mind, I searched for the hazy tendrils of my demonic side. It was there, in the dark corners. Distrust came off it in waves. It flinched when I approached, drawing even further into the dark.

Come to me, I whispered to it. I need your help.

It laughed, harsh and cold. What help could you need from me?

We have to kill.

At that, it perked up and began to expand. Kill, kill, kill.

The darkness in my mind swirled. I dropped down my walls of defense and let it surround me. Uncomfortable pricks of pain hit me between the eyes. Revulsion made me bend in half, as my stomach tried to eject its contents. The demon stretched with glee and turned to face Granny through my eyes.

Kill her.

It bombarded me with a spree of images, starting in my childhood. Memories of Granny shooting my dog, Rocky, when he came down with cancer. Granny stomping on my school science project because I’d forgotten to do my chores. Her scornful face whenever I did something wrong and my tiny room where she’d ground me to for the rest of the day. The many times she’d told me that I was cursed.

But nothing compared to the darkest of them all. The memory of her marching me to my doom—to the twisted tree where they strung me up and watched me burn.

Rage filled my head. It was so unfair. I was a child. She had no right to treat me that way. To beat me down until life seemed impossible. Demonic side or not, she’d ruined my childhood and torn away what little good I had left. She deserved to die.

I deserved to kill her.

My legs moved forward by their own volition. The demon inside me squealed in anticipation, a false high filling my limbs with an ecstasy unlike I’d over known. My hand with the dagger reached toward Granny’s neck. A simple flick was all that it would take. One slice and we were through. The thought gave me a thrill. It was just like when she’d ordered me to kill Gabe in the woods. But this time, she was the victim.