Heart of a Demon (The Dark Angel Wars 1)

His eyelids stopped fluttering and he fell back into a deep sleep. Looking around at the empty forest, I was unsure what to do. If I left him here, he'd be easy prey for another pack of demons. They would tear him to shreds before he could even open his eyes. Maybe that's what he deserved. I couldn't go around caring about a demon. It was ridiculous.

But as I looked at Green Eyes' face, I knew that I couldn't leave him there, alone and exposed. As much as every fiber of my being screamed against it, there was something about him that made me unable to walk away without ensuring his safety. It might kill me, but I had to save him.

Chapter Four

I placed my hand on his chest and felt the slight rise and fall of his breathing. He was still alive. But if I didn’t get him out of here soon, that might change.

From the looks of Green Eyes, he had to be near two hundred pounds. There was no way I’d be able to carry him out of here by myself. About a quarter mile west of here was an old shelter, probably left over by the hunters who used to move through here. I'd found it three years ago and claimed it as my own, patching up the roof and keeping the inside clean.

If I could get him there, we’d be safe. It was close enough to the goddess’ borders that demons never strayed that way, and far enough into the southern woods that no one from my town would find him. Once I got him there, I could assess his wounds and decide what to do.

“Okay, handsome, you’re going to have to help me,” I said in his ear.

His eyelids fluttered again, but remained closed.

“I can’t do this on my own.”

Pulling him up into a sitting position, I wrapped his muscular arm over my shoulders. A slight groan escaped his lips, but he remained asleep. If we were going to make it, he had to wake up.

“Come on, help me out,” I said, taking his chiseled chin in my hand and giving his head a little shake. Every nerve fiber screamed at me to run, but I ignored it and gritted my teeth against the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

The shaking of his head made his eyes open. He watched me through cracked lids, the blurry sign of sleep still heavy on his eyes.

“If you want to live, you have to walk with me,” I told him.

He swallowed hard, closing his eyes again. I thought I’d lost him, but a moment later, he nodded and began to push himself off the ground. With half his weight on my shoulders, I pulled him up and walked him forward.

We only made it a few steps before he stumbled and fell, pulling me down with him. As we kneeled over the forest floor, I noticed for the first time that he smelled slightly like vanilla and fresh soap. Along with that was the scent of salty sweat and blood. The wound on his shoulder was beginning to clot and the bleeding had slowed. If only we could make it to the shack, he might have a chance.

“Come on, handsome. I need you to move it,” I told him, pulling him up by the waist.

He grunted, clasping his bloody hand over mine. Surprised, I nearly dropped him on the forest floor, but held it together enough to keep him upright. He grunted a second time, his lips moving as if he wanted to tell me something.

"I'm trying to save you," I said through clenched teeth. "Don't fight me. And please don't kill me after this is all done."

He shook his head back and forth. The movement must've been too much for him because his face turned an even scarier shade of white. Taking a deep breath, he tried again.

"My name's Gabe." His voice was raspy and deep. With another rattling breath, he gave me a little sideways smile. It didn't hide the pain etched on his face.

I sighed, my insides turning. I knew I shouldn't get chummy with a demon, but I'd already broken all the rules in the book. Telling him my name would probably be the least of my offenses.

"My name's Lizzy. Now come on, we need to get out of here."

We struggled over the rough terrain of the forest for several hundred feet before the shack came into view. There were moments when I thought Gabe was going to pass out or die before we even got there. His skin kept changing from a sickly green to a ghostly white color. Once, his eyes even rolled up in his face and all his weight fell on my shoulders, forcing us to collapse onto the needle covered ground. But every time, he got back up and we kept going. This demon wanted to live.

Once we got into the shack, I led him to the old bed which took up a third of the room. It was a sturdy piece of furniture with a rough wooden headboard and a flimsy mattress. I'd laid an old quilt across the mattress, stolen from Granny's storage room of items that were no longer useful, but she didn't want to throw away. She'd never miss it.

"Sit here and let me look at those wounds," I told him, helping him sit on the edge of the bed. I wasn't sure what I would do once I looked at them. I certainly wasn't a nurse, but maybe I'd have an idea once I saw them up close.

"You don't need to do that," he mumbled, his eyelids heavy. "I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, like you took care of your dead friend? I don't think so."

His green eyes flashed up at me, full of pain. I immediately regretted mentioning his friend. It was an insensitive thing to do.

"I'm sorry," I said. "You couldn't have saved him. I saw the whole thing. You were lucky to survive."

That didn't seem to convince him, so I moved to look at his shoulder. The bleeding was very slow now. I wasn't sure if that was because it was clotting or if he'd lost too much blood. The cut ran deep but wasn't very wide. It might close up on its own.