Death of a Demon (The Dark Angel Wars 3)

“Plus, that was before we knew his wife had been possessed,” Ben said, his mouth full of a buttery roll. He glanced between his wife and son, his jaw working. “How that escaped his notice, we’ll never know. There have been a lot of red flags raised in this past year, son. We’re just concerned.”

Gabe slammed his hand on the table. “Concerned about what?”

My lungs desperately reached for a quick breath of air, as if the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. His parents regarded him over the white linen tablecloth, blinking innocently.

“We’re just concerned for your safety,” Georgia said, her brows coming together.

“I am safe.”

Ben cleared his throat. “We’re not so sure about that.”

“I am.”

“We just don’t want to lose another child.” Tears formed in the corners of Georgia’s eyes. She regarded her son with the desperate plea of a broken parent. “We worry, Son. That’s all.”

I remembered learning that Gabe and Adam had lost a sister a long time ago in a battle. The pain his parents had gone through must’ve been something awful. Suddenly, I could understand the third degree treatment. I probably would’ve done the same. They had every right to worry.

“It’s okay,” I whispered to him out of the corner of my mouth.

“No, it’s not.” He stood up, pulling me with him. Anger blazed in his eyes. “I think dinner is finished. Lizzy and I are going to retire. We will see you tomorrow.”

With that, he marched us from the dining hall and up the grand lobby staircase. It wasn’t until we reached the darker corridors of the resident halls that his pace slowed and his grip on my hand loosened.

“I’m so sorry about that,” he said, his voice cracking. The evening light coming through the window threw his face into shadow. “I didn’t realize they’d be so rude.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” I replied.

And really, it wasn’t a lie. His mother questioning me had been the least of my worries. I had pictured a thousand ways for this dinner to go—most of them ending in Georgia tearing her son away from me and forbidding us to be together, cursing our relationship. Silly, I knew. But my overactive imagination had gone there.

“If they can’t be civil, they’ll need to leave.” Gabe was grumbling, pulling me toward his room. “I won’t be treated like a child. I’m a hundred and twenty-eight! It’s ridiculous.”

The ridiculousness of the situation had me stifling a giggle. Even the Nephilim had problems with their mothers. I guess some things never changed, no matter how long you aged.

At that moment, a sudden light-headed feeling came over me. My feet slowed and my ankles weakened, although Gabe didn’t seem to notice. He kept walking, pulling me along. It took me falling to my knees for Gabe to realize something was wrong.

“Lizzy?” he cried, kneeling beside me. “What’s wrong?”

Oh, no. This couldn’t be happening. I’d torn myself from Gabe’s side in battle, immersed myself in a calm environment, done everything I could to keep her at bay. She couldn’t pull me under. Not now.

“It’s happening again.” I clutched at my head as searing pain split it in two. “I can’t stop it.”

He reached up to cup my chin and mouthed something, but I couldn’t hear what he said. The darkness enveloped me, wrapping me in an agony so severe I was afraid I’d never wake up. Even in the haze of the pain, I could feel something at the edge of my consciousness. She was there.

My demon was waiting for me.

Chapter Eight

I woke up in Gabe’s arms, my body still exhausted from the toll last night’s demon episode had taken. As horrible as the last, this face-to-face battle with my demon had left me internally bruised and scarred. Even though I reassured Gabe a thousand times that I was fine and the demon hadn’t hurt me, I couldn’t help lying awake for hours hearing the lies I’d told him reverberate in my head.

He didn’t need to know the truth. All the truth did was hurt him, little by little. Knowing that my demon was killing me would do nothing for Gabe. At least I could save him some pain.

The darkness seeping through the window told me it was still the early hours of the morning. Most of the Nephilim would still be in bed. I slipped from Gabe’s embrace and tiptoed around his bed to gather my clothes. What I needed now was a cool walk across the grounds. Time to clear my head. A chance to heal. I couldn’t do that listening to the sound of Gabe’s breathing, wishing I didn’t have to cause him so much heartbreak.

I’d nearly made it down the grand staircase when I ran into a bleary-eyed Luke. His hair was smashed against one side of his head and his glasses on crooked. He’d been reading late into the night again. It was a habit of his. Judging by his state, he probably hadn’t even gone to bed yet.

“Tell me you weren’t up all night worrying about me,” I said, stopping him from passing.

He blinked rapidly, as if he just recognized me. “No...no, of course not.” With a sheepish grin, he rubbed a hand over his head. “I mean, I did spend a lot of time rereading some texts regarding your situation, but when I came to a dead end, I looked more into that mysterious box you brought back from your latest demon escapade.”