She stumbled away from him and threw up. Dropping to her knees, tears slid down her cheeks. She didn’t understand why she was reacting like this. It wasn’t like her life had been easy. It made no sense.
Tristan sat down on the sand beside her and stroked her back, avoiding her scars.
Wiping her mouth, she turned to him, feeling ashamed. “I’m sorry.”
He was quiet for a long moment. “In my previous life, I was a gargoyle created to defend my town. For many, many years, I came to life only when I was needed, but the time between attacks grew longer and longer, and I remained a creature of stone for too long. When I was needed again, I didn’t expect to die. I didn’t believe one of my kind could be killed.
I thought whatever I faced would be easy. I’d fought vampires, werewolves, cruel humans, armies… many, many battles. When I was reborn in the demon realm, I was afraid. I have never feared the dark like that before. But it was endless. And the screaming…” He paused, shaking his head. “That’s why I still don’t like the dark. There are times when I forget what it was like, and then something will remind me. I find my heart beating fast, and my skin dampened with sweat.”
She smiled at him. “So, you’re telling me this is perfectly normal?”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Or we are both unusual.”
Sighing, she looked back at the little building. “Well, I’d better pull myself together and find Mark.”
He stood and held out his hand.
She shook her head, knowing she needed a minute to clear her thoughts. Rising and going to the water, she washed her face and hands. That seemed to help. She still felt embarrassed, but a little better. Ready to kick some angel ass.
I feel the way I do after Daniel and I have sex. As if my emotions and senses aren’t as muted. I feel charged with energy. Almost overloaded.
Weird…
Clenching her hands, her focus returned. And something else. A feeling she hadn’t experienced much since becoming an angel… that she could remember. Rage rolled through her. These angels had stolen Mark. The goddess said he wouldn’t last the night.
How dare they!
“Come on,” she said, calling her soul-blade to her hand.
“Surcy?”
“I’m going to teach those fucking angels a lesson.”
Tristan pulled his blade from his back with a hiss. “This is a plan I like.”
As they started through the palm trees and plants, a horrible scream echoed through the air. Birds launched into the sky, and the very trees seemed to shake.
But the effect on the surroundings was nothing compared to what that sound did to Surcy. She recognized Mark’s voice. She’d know it anywhere, and his scream was one of horrible pain.
She started running. She didn’t care if she was going straight into danger. No one hurt her demon. No one!
10
Surcy and Tristan ran until they pushed through the growth that hid the building from view. When they drew closer, they slowed and crept to the front.
The door in the front of the building was partially ajar. She and Tristan stood on either side of the door, made eye contact and he nodded. She pushed the door all the way open and launched inside.
Inside, she discovered one big room, dark except for light that streamed from a skylight in the center. On the floor, bathed in the sun’s light, Mark lay bleeding. Surrounded by angels who towered over him.
The angels’ laughter came to her, and she saw red. Angels were supposed to protect the innocent from demons. That’s what she’d been told. So far, she’d seen things that made her question who was actually good and evil. Something inside her changed in that moment. She felt it, like puzzle pieces sliding into place.
She no longer had wings. She no longer obeyed Caine.
The angels were her enemies now. There was no question. And her job? Her job was to protect the men who loved her for reasons she didn’t understand.
She entered the room like a ghost. Moving behind Frink, she sliced his head from his neck before he could react. The angels turned to her in shock. Another head went flying.
And then, the battle began in earnest.
Their soul-blades flared to life. One blade crashed against hers. Another clashed against Tristan’s.
She kicked the angel in the chest, then knocked his blade from his grip. “So, you think hurting a defenseless man is fun?”
The angel’s eyes widened, and he glanced behind him to where his blade was out of reach.
She knew he was about to teleport. Striking out, he tried to leap out of the way, but she sliced his chest. He took another step back. But she wouldn’t give him the second he needed to concentrate enough to teleport. Instead, she launched an attack.
He dove, jumped, and tried to avoid her blows. She was hell-bent on causing him pain. Not killing him. Making him suffer.
When he fell to his knees, his arms bleeding, his stomach bleeding, he looked up at her with pleading eyes. “Mercy,” he whispered.
“Did you show Mark mercy?”
His acceptance was there in his face.
She raised her sword, and sliced his head off. It hit the ground, and then, silence stretched around her. Strange and oddly tense
Turning, she saw that Tristan had killed his angel. He was watching her, his expression unreadable. Whether the other angels had died or teleported away, she didn’t know. Nor did she care. As long as they were gone.
Sending her soul-blade away, she ran to Mark.
A sob grew in her throat. His injuries were bad… bad enough that he might not survive.
Reaching out, she touched his face. His eyes flashed open, and the pain within them was heartbreaking.
“Kill me,” he whispered.
Her heart pounded in her chest. “You don’t mean that.”
“Please.”
She tore her gaze from him to Tristan. “Touch me. I’m getting us out of here.”
Tristan knelt and placed a hand on her arm, obeying. She teleported them, and forced herself to
