Death of a Demon (The Dark Angel Wars 3)

“Gabe’s here.” Her green eyes stared unblinking into mine. “He wandered out of the forest at about two this morning. Luke sent a few guys to find you, but I guess you missed them.”

My heart soared, melting away the aches and pains of my long hike through the woods. “Take me to him.”

Her head bounced on her long neck like a bobble head. “He’s resting in the med hall. I’ll take you there.”

We sped through the mansion as fast as my injured feet would allow me to travel. It might have been the very early hours of the morning, but many Nephilim were already up and roaming the halls.

The threat of war on the horizon had everyone anxious. There had even been talk of evacuating the mansion and regrouping in the nearby city of Spearfish. But the board had put the kibosh on that idea.

The Nephilim were put here to be a first line of defense for humankind. We couldn’t allow the demons to infiltrate the human populace. That would be the first steps to an Armageddon. We had to stay and fight. Even if that meant death for all of us.

The medic hall door was in view. Instantly, I had a flashback to when I’d fought with the deceiver demon, Margaret Thatcher. I’d woken up in this very same room after nearly losing my life. I never dreamed I’d be the one on the other side, hoping and praying that Gabe was fine. That the demons hadn’t destroyed my angel warrior.

“I’ll wait out here for you,” Raquel said, holding the door open for me.

“Gabe?” I swept into the room, my eyes scanning over every bed. They were empty. “Gabe? Where are you?”

“Here.”

His steady voice drew me to the farthest bed. He was sitting up, a pillow wedged behind his back. I ran to him and he stretched out his arms. Skidding to a stop just out of his reach, I scanned him over from head to toe.

“Did they hurt you?” I demanded.

There were no visible marks on his face. No scratches or injuries on his hands. When he looked at me, the same vibrant green eyes gazed back, his lips pressed into a weary smile.

“I’m fine.” He tilted his head impatiently. “Come to me. I need you.”

Sighing, I took the last step and folded myself into his waiting arms. They wrapped me in a warmth that I vowed to never give up. When his arms dropped, I pulled the sheet from his bare chest and began my own examinations for signs of injury.

The palm of my hand skimmed over his muscular chest. His skin was smooth and unbroken. The black tattoo on his chest was unmarred. My hand sunk further, investigating his abdomen. His muscles trembled under my touch and he caught my hands in his before I could finish.

“I’m fine, Lizzy.” He stared into my eyes, his gaze burning with a desire that I knew only too well. “And if you keep this up, I’m going to have to throw you on that bed and tear off all your clothes. I don’t think the nurse would like that.”

My cheeks burned bright as my stomach twinged with excitement. Still, I kept my cool and managed to kiss him softly on the cheek.

“I just had to be sure,” I told him. “You really had me worried. What happened out there?”

He sighed and rolled his shoulders. Uncertainly flickered in his eyes. “The alarm went off during the Games. Noah and I were the closest to the training facility, so we sprinted over there to grab weapons. By the time we got them out, the ferals had surrounded the bleachers full of people. We had to slice through them to keep everyone safe.”

I nodded my head. They’d done a great job. Not one casualty that day because of their bravery.

“But I got overconfident,” he continued, wincing at the memory. “Chased the last feral into the edge of the forest. Five more were hiding in wait and they overtook me. Dragged me to their command center.”

My hand moved to cover his and he squeezed it gratefully.

“Did you meet the Prince?” I asked.

The image of that shadowy man standing in the forest still burned bright in my memory.

His eyes darkened. “Yes. He calls himself Seth.”

“I’ve met Seth.” I said the

word aloud, letting it slip from my tongue like a bad omen. “That name sounds so normal, so human. Not like it belongs to an evil beast from Hell. What did he want from you?”

“I didn’t know at first.” He took in a large breath of air, his chest rising. “They put a bag over my head and threw me in a dark room. My hands and feet were tied together. I tried to escape, but they had demons on watch at all hours. I thought they were going to kill me.”

He didn’t say it with an ounce of regret or fear. He had probably accepted his fate at the time and would’ve met his death with honor. I mourned to think of Gabe sitting in the dark alone, believing that he was about to die. Grabbing his hand even tighter, I pulled it to my chest.