Ryder took the ammo and slid it open, then looked up at Michael. “Silver bullets?”
Michael’s lips curled. “Yeah. In case we face any of the new types of demons.”
“Just like silver kills werewolves in the movies,” Punk said, using the heel of his hand to jam in the clip. He cocked the slider back and loaded one in the chamber.
“Hey, I did that in one of my movies,” Gina said with a wide grin.
“Only this time you get real silver bullets,” Derek added.
“Sort of,” Michael said. “Only these aren’t werewolves. They’re much worse.”
“Do we have any idea what they are?” Punk asked. “I like to know what I’m fighting.”
“They’re not any kind of demon we’ve seen before,” Michael said. “And we haven’t had nearly enough exposure to them to know where they came from or what their purpose is. We’re lucky enough that Ryder and Angelique have had some one-on-one time with them so we at least know one of their weaknesses and how to combat them.”
Punk shoved an elbow in Ryder’s ribs. “Yeah, lucky you.”
Ryder arched a brow. “You jealous?”
“You know it.”
“Angelique saved my life. She took on a demon with her bare hands,” Ryder threw out there.
Punk grimaced. “Damn. I might like that woman.”
Ryder laughed. “Forget it. She’s mine.”
And just like that, he realized he’d claimed her, had stated his feelings about Angelique. Right in front of all these people, without second thoughts about saying it. It had just fallen out of his mouth. Easily, without any effort.
He waited for the stares, the questioning looks, even the questions.
“Too bad. She sounds more like my type. When a demon kills you, I’ll be sure to be around to comfort her. A few days with a real man like me, she’ll forget all about you.”
There were times Ryder was really thankful for Punk’s bizarre sense of humor. Now was one of them. He laughed and turned away, hoping that was the end of talk of Angie and him.
If anyone else had thoughts on the topic, no one said a word or gave him a strange look. They just busied themselves with their weapons. A few smiled at Punk’s comment. Derek just nodded and gave Ryder a knowing smile, then resumed checking his weaponry.
Maybe the only one it had been a big deal to had been Ryder. Hell, for him to say what he’d said had been freakin’ monumental. Of course no one would know that but him.
“Hey.”
He looked up at Punk.
“Yeah?”
“If you’re through mooning over your woman, how about we go kill some demons so you can get her back?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Isabelle woke in the darkness, shooting straight up to a sitting position. Fear snaked its way around her, along with the certain realization she was alone. The only sound she heard was her own breathing.
She remembered the church, the feeling of claustrophobia and sickness and needing to escape. Then the cooling mist and cold hands over her, bringing relief from the heat blistering her body. After that, only blackness and waking up here.
But where was here?
“Angie?”
Instinct told her she wasn’t back at the Realm’s castle. She shuddered. Something bad had happened to her. But what? It was so dark. She couldn’t even see her hand in front of her. She felt around, underneath her. Cloth, kind of scratchy. Some kind of bed. No, not even that. A ledge, hard underneath. With tentative movements she swung her leg over the side, feeling for the floor.
Cold. Everything in here was icy cold. She pulled the blanket around her for warmth, afraid to leave the relative safety of the ledge, not knowing what was out there in the darkness.
Damn. She hated this. Where was Angelique? Dalton? Anyone.
What had happened to her back at the church?
As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw a faint outline of a table in front of her. She squinted, wishing for light so she could see better.
As if someone had heard her wish, faint light began to appear, illuminating the room. But there were no overhead lights, not even any fixtures, so she had no idea where it was coming from.
There was a long gray stone table, crude and ancient as if hand-carved. At the end of the table nearest her was a misshapen rock about the size of a small boulder.
The room itself was large, with rough rock walls and nothing else in it but the ledge she sat on and the table.
