telling her the rest. “Do you have any questions for me? Other than ones about the plan?”
“Well, yeah. Now that you know where this Burden guy is, why can’t you just swoop in and fight him, while your secret friends—and I’m still waiting for you to tell me about them—then save Jamila?”
The warriors he’d enlisted were part of ‘the rest.’ He might not tell her about them even when the battle was over and the smoke cleared. “Burden, coward that he is, has possessed the body of a human. I am limited in the things I can do to him.”
“What if he attacks you?”
“I still will not harm him.” Much.
“But that’s not fair!”
“A similarity between our worlds. Nothing ever seems to be.” But all things, no matter how terrible, could be worked to his good, Zacharel was coming to learn. “Though we will not be able to destroy the human, he will not walk away unscathed. Dancing with a demon brings only suffering—that is a spiritual law, and he will learn the truth of that tonight.”
“Fine. But we’re sure this Burden guy isn’t the one who killed my parents, even though he’s the one who ordered the other demons to hurt me?”
“Yes. There are ranks among the demons, and Burden is not of high enough rank to manifest in the presence of humans.”
“Okay, so answer me this. How did Burden possess the human?”
“The human welcomed him inside, giving him entrance one way or another.”
“Like…a dream?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes a demon will watch a human, waiting for the perfect time to strike. If one does not appear, the demon will try to create an opening. He will whisper into the human’s ear.
“But how do you rebuke a demon? How are we to
“Trust me, there is a way and I will teach you. But not now.” She needed faith she did not yet possess. Faith that would not spring from words alone. She would need time they didn’t have, time to hear a divine lesson with not just her ears but with all of her being. Were he to try and teach her despite that, she would become frightened, and that would make everything worse.
“Why don’t the demons possess your Deity’s angels? You guys seem to have as many faults as we do,” she grumbled.
“They torment us, too. Never doubt that.”
He pressed his shoulder into hers, maneuvering her into a darkened alley. The odor of urine and brine wafted through the air. He could have flown straight to the club’s door, but he wanted Burden to know he was on his way. The demon’s spies would spot him—in fact, he’d seen three minions in the past five minutes, peeking from around the corners of buildings before crawling up the sides and scampering away.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” A human teenager stepped from the shadows. He was in the process of zipping his pants, and Zacharel could guess he’d been using one of the buildings as a toilet. He reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. “A hot little Chinese babe and a nuisance who better run if he wants to continue breathing.”
“I’m not Chinese,” Annabelle snapped.
“Whatever. You’re hot, and that’s all that matters.” Two other teens stepped from the shadows and lined up beside him.
None were demon possessed, but all three were stupid. Zacharel was double their size, but because they had weapons—two had knives, he discerned, the silver tips gleaming in the moonlight, and one, the leader, had a gun— they considered themselves invincible.
“What’ve you got on under that dress, huh?”
“Be a good girl and give us a peek.”
Oh, yes. They were stupid.
Zacharel felt the pulse of Annabelle’s fear before she beat it back, determination taking its place.
“You are making me angry,” he said, “and you do not want to make me angry.”
All three boys snickered.
“Why? Because you’ll turn into a hulking green beast?” one taunted.
More snickers abounded.
“Why don’t you beat it, before we beat you?” the leader said.
Another added, “You can have your girl back when we’re done with her,” before laughing. “Promise.”
“Oh, you shouldn’t have said that,” Annabelle said far more calmly than he would have guessed possible. To him, she added, “Teach them a little, tiny lesson, Zacharel. Please.”
“Whatever you desire.” Zacharel tugged Annabelle in front of him and wrapped his arms around her to protect her from what was about to happen. He unleashed his wings from the pocket of air and in seconds was able to create a mighty wind. Each boy soon found himself facedown on the dirty ground.
They struggled to rise, but the wind pinned them in place. He could have snapped their necks before they’d ever realized he’d moved. He could have ripped open their chests and spilled their guts. In fact, he just might. He could always revive them before death staked its claim, saving himself from a whipping—or worse.
He flapped his wings harder, faster, and the wind increased in velocity, the whistle of it masking the ensuing cries of pain. The pressure was building, Zacharel knew, about to crack bone and splatter organs.
No. He would not do this. He would not destroy these boys just because he could, and he would not give way to the urge to commit violent acts. That would be a fault.
Annabelle wrapped her fingers around his wrists and squeezed. “Okay, enough. You’ll get in trouble, and I kinda need you tonight. And really, your well-being is more important than giving these boys what they deserve.”
“Was already stopping,” he admitted, stilling his wings and easing the pressure.
The boys remained on the ground, sobbing.
“Do you have anything to say to her?” he demanded.
“I’m sorry, man. Real sorry.” Snot ran down the speaker’s nose.
“Won’t do it again, swear.”
“Please, just let us go. I’ll pay you. I’ve got money.”
“Enough!” Zacharel forced the boys to their feet. First they flinched, then they wobbled. “You will march straight to the nearest police station and confess your crimes. Fail to do so, and I will come back for you.”
As much as Annabelle had doubted him lately, he halfway expected the boys to do the same. However, they reacted to the ring of truth the way he was used to, their eyes glazing over, their heads nodding. No need to flash the visage of a hulking green beast, then.
“Why are you still here?” he snarled. “Go!”
They raced away from him.
Annabelle patted him on the shoulder. “Good job, Z. Really impressive work there.”
“Sarcasm?”
“Not this time, Winged Wonder.”
He faced her and grinned. “Thank you.”
“Welcome.”
This woman managed to amuse him no matter the situation, and that, more than anything, revealed the depths of his attraction to her. And he wasn’t afraid of such an admission, not this time. He was becoming used to his feelings for her.
“You know, you’re pretty when you smile,” she said, patting the side of his cheek.
“Fierce, woman. I am fierce.”
“If you say so.”
