Hunted

There ought to be a law against having demented siblings. Bran had Gavyn, whom he refused to kill. I had Solange, whom I couldn’t touch until we had Kim. “How many switched sides?”

“They were kidnapped,” Lord Gabreel corrected me.

“How many?” I snapped, not even sure why I needed to know.

“Hundreds. Between three and four.”

That was a lot. I glanced at the other members of the Order. “I hope you get your children out, because no one takes my dagger.”

The tingle on my spine had become an ache that needed release. So I did. The power shot to my limbs; the head rush felt like pure endorphins. I might not be able to use my powers, but I was a weapon, my very presence a demon’s worst nightmare. I gripped my knives and lunged through the crowd, searching for Solange in a sea of black with an occasional colorful costume.

What was it with Nephilim and wearing black? The only way to tell us apart was our eyes, which tended to have the same glow as Guardian amulets during a battle. The demons’ red eyes matched the red stones on their belts and the pommels of their weapons. Lottius’s security team wore all black, like ninjas, but unlike Solange’s renegades they had no marks on their clothes.

Demons scurried out of my way, their faces distorted in pain from the energy pouring from my pores.

“Bring me the dagger,” Solange screamed somewhere from above.

I looked up to find her, but two demons braved the pain and came after me. I released the knives and sank them into their throats. The knives floated back into my hands as the demons burst into flame. Another came from my right; I feinted left, blocked his arm and kneed him. He went down and my knife followed.

Solange was gone when I looked up. Instead, I found Bran, wings out, three demons surrounding him. He whipped around, his wings slicing one in half. He then teleported and reappeared behind another, raising his dagger and bringing it down in one swift fatal blow. A well-aimed kick sent the third off the rail. Before he could land on the fighters below, Bran flicked his wrist and released a ninja star. It caught the guy between the eyes. He burst into flame.

Graceful and deadly.

I caught a flash of red from the corner of my eye and I whipped around, hoping it was Solange. A smoldering energy ball rolled toward me. I dodged and it caught a demon behind me. I hit the demon who’d thrown the omni ball in the chest with a ninja star.

Where was Solange? And why were some demons creeping upstairs like zombies in masquerade costumes? I teleported behind them.

Your three o’clock, Bran yelled in my head.

I turned swinging, but the demon ducked. She kicked, aiming for my ribs. I caught her foot and twisted it. She whipped around in the air, but before I could finish her off, a blade sank into her chest. I looked up and my gaze connected with the person who had thrown it.

Lottius.

She grinned and gave me a mocking bow, which would have been her last if Izzy hadn’t seen the demon charging her from behind. Who would have thought we’d have Lottius and the Order’s guards fighting alongside us? We were outnumbered, and more of Solange’s men kept teleporting in.

I spied Dante and grinned. He caught several demons with lightning bolts, coming to Sykes’ aid without him even knowing it. Sykes was busy having fun throwing ninja stars, his grin deliciously devilish. On the floor to my left, Remy and Kael stood back to back, taking on four demons. I couldn’t see Izzy or Lunaris, but Solaris was unstoppable with her lethal whip, the metal tip sailing through the air and slicing demons in half.

Someone landed on me, knocking me down and causing me to lose hold of my knife. I flung them aside and jumped up, tripping over demons in costumes. Looking at their wizened faces, realization hit me like a ton of bricks—Solange was using the Athame. The zombified demons on the stairs made sense.

An older demon blocked me. He winced with pain, but still moved closer. “Your father needs you, Lilith,” he begged. “Only you can help him.”

“No one told him to come back from Tartarus,” I retorted.

“He didn’t ask to be brought back. Bring her to the island,” he added.

He teleported just as an arrow pierced my left side, I sucked in a painful breath. Numbness spread on that side of my body as I searched for the demon that had attacked me. I found her reloading her crossbow.

I didn’t stop to think. I just reacted and willed lightning bolts, vaporizing her on the spot.

Bran appeared beside me. You okay?

I could be better. Biting my lower lip, I grabbed the shaft and yanked it out.

How bad is it? he asked.

It’s already healing. Watch your back.

He turned and rejoined the battle. My side hurt, but now wasn’t time to cry or complain. Not using our powers sucked, but our bodies could still self-heal. The numbness was already fading away, my wound healing faster because of the Kris Dagger’s powers.

A loud cackle came from the top of the stairs and I turned. Solange had her dagger pointed at the remaining half-dozen demons, red light streaming from their eyes to the tip of the dagger. Once again, ghastly memories flashed through my head—Coronis draining Bran and my friends with the same Athame before we killed her.

I sent the knife I’d dropped toward Solange. She dissolved into smoke and floated away. The blade flew back to my hand as drained demons rolled down the stairs, some of them still alive, their sunken eyes following me and begging me to end their misery.

“Sorry, can’t help.” Not without using my powers again. I kept an eye out for Solange. She materialized near the rail several floors up. I followed.

“Come on, little sis,” she mocked when I rematerialized. “Pull out the Kris Dagger and fight me.”

“That’s too easy. You’ll be dead in seconds.” I had to catch her off-guard and set the trap. “Take a whack at me. I know you’d like nothing better than to punish me for being Daddy’s favorite,” I laid it on thick.

Her eyes narrowed.

“I’ll give you the dagger if you beat me,” I added.

“I’ll just take it after I beat the crap out of you,” she bragged, then shoved the Athame in its sheath. “I’ve wanted to do this for sixteen years.”

She rushed me, throwing a punch. I feinted to the right, swung and aimed for her ribs. I got a solid hit, but she didn’t even flinch. Her grin widened as though pain was her source of pleasure.

“You’ll have to do better than that, little sis,” she mocked and came at me with a kick, her movement so fast she was a blur.

I teleported out of the way, causing her to lose her balance. Reappearing behind her, I brought my elbow down hard on her back. She went down on one knee and shifted into smoke.

“Not bad,” she said when she rematerialized.

“How about not shape-shifting?” I dared her.

“If you swear not to teleport,” she retorted and lunged at me again.

I met her, trading blows, kicks and jabs. She was fast, but I was better trained. I caught her with a roundhouse kick, the force whipping her around and causing her to lose her balance again. She broke her fall and came back swinging, catching me on the still-healing spot the arrow had hit. I hissed at the pain and staggered back.

Laughing gleefully, she launched herself at me again. I side-stepped, grabbed her arm and used her weight against her, sending her flying over my head. Instead of going down, she flipped over like a gymnast and landed in a crouching position, then came at me low, barreling into my stomach.

I brought my elbow down on her back, but the effort was lost when we both went down, arms and legs tangled. She got some lucky hits before I flipped her and pressed my elbow against her neck. I reached for the crystals to trap her.

She cheated and shifted into smoke form, leaving me on all fours before she aimed a vicious kick on my side. I hissed at the pain, sure she’d cracked ribs.

A hand yanked me from the floor as though I weighed nothing. Solange laughed and dissolved into smoke form. I twisted, ready to fight my captor, and gulped. “Grampa?”

He scowled. “Stop wasting time. Finish with her and get out of here,” he ordered. “We have the situation