Page 3

The moment Malachi reached the outer edges of Aspen, Danny’s presence slammed into him like a physical force, nearly driving him from the sky.

“Whoa there,”

Cassiel called out. "You okay, Champ?"

“It’s him,”

Malachi yelled. “He's here. Close.”

The crystal in the pouch around his neck radiated heat, further confirming what he already knew. The gem connected them. With one final push of his massive wings, he soared downward, toward the rooftop of a building near the eastern outskirts of downtown, near a park.

None of the structures were tall. Most were only two-story, which made it difficult to remain under the radar. A mixture of historic, quaint, and contemporary design dominated the busy town, yet nothing about the mountain location was reminiscent of a large city.

He touched down on the building’s surface, immediately shifting. The crystal had warmed his skin to the point of discomfort. But Malachi wouldn’t remove it if his flesh caught fire. This fragile piece of stone was his connection to his mate—his kidnapped, endangered mate.

“I can also feel the bastards,”

he growled to Ronen and Cassiel as they landed beside him with the rest of the team. “Shadow gargoyles. At least a dozen, maybe more.”

Cassiel nodded, her gleaming, amber eyes scanning the streets below. “They haven't left the area. Bold move.”

“Or stupid,”

Ronen added, checking his weapons. “Makes our job easier if they’re still here.”

Malachi frowned. “Perhaps. Or it’s a trap.”

Ronen scanned the pristine streets of Aspen, his expression grim. “I expected them to flee the area immediately after the kidnapping.”

Cassiel clapped Ronen on the shoulder. “When you’ve dealt with these unwashed assholes enough times, you’ll come to realize that they’re full of many unpleasant surprises.”

Malachi grunted. “And full of themselves. I’d say one of our biggest advantages over them is their misguided belief that they’re stronger, that they can’t lose.”

Ronen regarded him with a furrowed brow. “But we’ve defeated so many of them. How could they possibly believe that?”

Ronen was an excellent warrior, but as a newer Slayer who’d been appointed to fill the empty spots left by traitors, he still didn’t fully comprehend how deluded the shadow gargoyles were.

“The Shadows feed on darkness.”

Malachi clenched his jaw, fighting against his anger. “They believe their numbers are infinite. Each one we kill only makes them more determined to prove their superiority.”

He closed his eyes, focusing on the pulsing crystal against his chest. The connection to Danny strengthened with each passing second. He was terrifyingly close, yet somehow obscured.

“Something’s blocking the exact location.”

Malachi opened his eyes as he traced the outline of the crystal through his shirt. “I can feel him, but it’s diffused.”

Cassiel nodded. “They must be using a masking spell. Basic magic, but effective if you don’t know what you’re looking for.”

“Fan out,”

Malachi ordered. “But stay within sight of each other. Ronen and Cassiel, you’re with me. The rest of you split into pairs. I want this entire downtown area covered in the next thirty minutes. If you encounter any shadows, do not engage alone. Signal for backup.”

He sucked in a deep breath, the crystal’s warmth becoming almost unbearable now, yet he welcomed the discomfort. It meant Danny was alive.

“Mal.”

Cassiel elbowed him as the others dispersed. “Are you sure you should be leading this? Your connection to Danny might be clouding your judgment.”

“I’m fine,”

he snapped, immediately regretting his tone. “Sorry.”

He laid a hand on Cassiel’s shoulder, lowering his head. “I wasn’t expecting to feel this way when I found my mate, as if my body is no longer my own. Especially since I haven’t actually met him.”

He glanced up. “It’s so strange. I was with Dante when he met Amir for the first time. He literally didn’t know who they were to each other until he touched him.”

Cassiel arched her eyebrows. “Damn. This is intense. I haven’t been around any Slayers when they found their mates, so I had no clue how it worked. But Michael did say there’s something special about Danny, right?”

She shrugged. “That must mean he has a stronger light.”

Ronen cleared his throat. "Yeah. Michael warned us you might be…”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Unusually affected. That's why he insisted we stay with you.”

Malachi pressed his lips together, the urge to sling a nasty remark about Michael staying out of his business being almost impossible to resist. He was accustomed to being a level-headed creature. He’d always been the mellow one compared to Dante. Not less dedicated, or less vicious when the occasion called for his ruthless prowess, but not hostile or defensive.

“Look,”

said Malachi. “I get it. My behavior is a little off, but Michael also said I was the perfect one to lead this mission. You guys are here with me for balance.”

He glanced between his fellow Slayers. “Are we good?”

They both nodded, and Cassiel gave him a wry smile. “I’m not worried. We’ve always had each other’s backs. And it’s kind of cool to witness what this Fated Mate stuff is all about.”

Ronen grinned. “And honestly, I’m relieved you've got us for backup. You look like you might tear through walls with your bare hands to find this guy.”

Malachi couldn’t deny Ronen’s assessment. The urge to shift and rampage through Aspen until he found Danny clawed at him from within. Only centuries of discipline kept him in check.

“Then let’s move.”

Malachi did a quick scan of the area and motioned for Cassiel and Ronen to follow him. A darkened area surrounded by a large pine and some shrubbery at the back of the building was ideal for them to land after a quick shift. Even if humans couldn’t see them when shifted, changing to their human form was another matter. That was when they needed to be discreet.

They descended to street level and, after shifting, blended seamlessly with the evening crowd of well-heeled tourists and locals. Malachi kept his senses wide open, following the crystal’s pull like a compass. As they moved deeper into the downtown area, the pulsing grew stronger, more insistent.

Mal paused, closing his eyes, visualizing where the crystal wanted him to go. His eyes flew open as a vision of a terrified young man filled his mind.

“This way.”

He rushed down a side street lined with upscale boutiques and restaurants, not bothering to check whether Cassiel and Ronen had followed. He had no doubt they had, but it didn’t matter. Danny was so close. Nothing could keep him from his mate.

He was drawn toward a grand building with a distinctive fa?ade. A dark blue awning announced that it was the Wheeler Opera House. The historic architecture stood in stark contrast to the modern buildings surrounding it. The crystal pulsed with an almost frantic energy. As unexpected as it was, this was definitely the right place.

“The opera house?”

Cassiel caught up with him. “That's weird.”

“Too public,”

Ronen agreed. Several patrons were entering for what must be an evening performance. “Why would they risk holding a kidnapped Nephilim in such a visible location?”

Malachi narrowed his eyes, studying the building. “I doubt they’re the stars of the evening’s show.”

He focused harder, letting his gargoyle senses expand beyond human limitations. “There's more to it. Underground passages, perhaps. Old buildings like this often have secrets.”

Cassiel clapped her hands together. “Works for me. Do we bust in there all dramatic-like? Cause I've been dying to make a grand entrance.”

Ronen smirked at her. “Yeah. Let’s draw as much attention as possible. What could possibly go wrong?”

Cassie tsked. “Newbies. Wouldn’t know sarcasm if it bitch-slapped them in the face.”

“Hey!”

Ronen crossed his arms. “That was completely unnecessary.”

"We can't wait,”

Malachi growled. “Every second Danny remains in their clutches is too long. However...”

He directed his words at Cassiel. “We don’t attract attention.”

He turned to Ronen. “Humor. The only thing preventing me from losing my ever-loving fucking mind in the face of all this evil.”

Ronen nodded. “Got it. I can see how battling demons and traitors for centuries might wear on you.”

Cassiel snorted. “Uh, yeah. Just a tad.”

Malachi gritted his teeth as a sharp pain sliced through his gut. Fuck. They were torturing Danny, he was sure of it.

“No more blabbing. We need to get inside this way too public building that’s away from these crowds. Shifting and using a rooftop window or vent is an old standby.”

Cassie pointed. “Except for the blaze of lights. Wanna make a bet that it’s where the theatre is? It might seem odd to the opera patrons if windows and vent shields begin opening by themselves.”

Malachi pressed his lips together. “Even so, the theatre can’t be the entire upper floor. There’s a reason we don’t usually break in on ground level.”

He wished they knew the layout of the building.

“Sure, fewer prying eyes,”

said Cassiel. “But there have to be other options.”

Another vicious pain burst in Malachi’s lower back. “Dammit!”

Ronen gasped. “Watch what you say. Michael will have a fit.”

Cassiel rolled her eyes. “When is he not having a fit about something?”

“Enough!”

Malachi growled again. “They’re hurting Danny. He doesn’t seem to be aware of what they’re doing, but that’s not to say he won’t suffer physical injuries.”

Ronen grabbed Malachi’s arm. “Of course. Whatever you say. I’m too familiar with their depravity.”

Cassiel lowered her head. Zeke had shared that Cassiel was part of the team that rescued Ronen when he’d been tortured and questioned by the rogues.

Malachi gave him a quick dip of his chin. “Right. Let’s circle the building and search for the most vulnerable spot.”

He regarded Cassiel, who still appeared sullen from the reminder of Ronen’s brush with death. “Makes more sense to go through the ground floor anyway. Especially if there is a basement or tunnels. Right?”

She lifted her eyes and gave him a crooked smile. “Sounds good, buddy.”

They quickly made their way to a narrow alley, checking to ensure they weren’t being observed before ducking down the dark corridor. Almost immediately, Malachi spotted a simple metal door marked ‘Staff Only’ that was partially hidden behind a dumpster. He motioned for Cassiel and Ronen to move closer. Cassiel pulled out a small vial of clear liquid from her pocket.

“Lock dissolution.”

She held up the potion. “Much more elegant than breaking it down.”

Malachi had never possessed the patience for magical doo-dads. Call him inelegant, but nothing was more satisfying than bashing through a barrier.

He grunted. “I suppose we should keep things on the quiet side.”

Before she could apply the potion, Malachi froze, grabbing both their arms, whispering, “Wait. Someone's coming.”

They ducked down as a tall figure in a long, dark coat approached the entrance on the opposite end of the alley.

The mysterious figure moved with purpose, checking over their shoulder before slipping a key into the lock of another door, perhaps twenty feet from them.

As they turned to push the door open, a shaft of moonlight illuminated their face.

Cassiel slapped a hand to her mouth before whispering, “Holy shit. That's Gideon."

Malachi’s blood ran cold, rage building in his body. Sure, they’d theorized there must be a Slayer who had turned, but Gideon was a Sentinel from the main Southwestern lair, one he’d fought alongside mere months ago.

“What’s he doing here?”

Ronen shook his head. “Michael didn’t mention him being part of the mission.”

Malachi opened and closed his fists. “He’s not.”

The pieces fell into place with sickening clarity. “He’s the fucking traitor.”

The crystal against Malachi's chest pulsed with renewed intensity, drawing him toward the direction of the betrayer. Danny was beyond that door, surrounded by darkness and malevolence.

“We follow him, but don’t shift yet. We don’t know what we’re walking into once we get inside, so we need to remain low-key. Cassiel, summon the others. Have them remain on alert, surround the building until we call them in for backup.”

Malachi’s body itched to shift, to tear Gideon apart limb from limb. But Danny’s safety came first. They waited until the door closed behind Gideon before moving forward, silent as shadows themselves.

Cassiel uncorked the vial she’d held up earlier and dripped the clear liquid around the lock while Ronen kept watch. The potion sizzled with a soft hiss, the metal dissolving like sugar in hot water.

“Ready?”

Malachi wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his blade.

Ronen and Cassiel nodded, their weapons already drawn.

With practiced precision, Malachi eased the door open, wincing at the slight creak of hinges.

A narrow corridor stretched before them, dimly lit by emergency lights.

The air was thick with the stench of shadow, like sulfur mixed with rotting flesh.

Malachi pressed forward, the crystal becoming like fire.

He quickly grasped the burning stone in his palm before its deep blue glow gave their position away.

Every fiber of his being screamed to rush ahead, but centuries of battle experience kept his movements controlled.

The corridor led to a stairwell descending into darkness.

“They're close.”

Cassiel wrinkled her nose. “A fuckton of them.”

Malachi nodded grimly. “Like plague rats.”

The crystal urged him forward. They moved silently down the hallway, past abandoned storage rooms and utility closets. The building’s public spaces seemed miles away from this forgotten underbelly.

The crystal’s pulse quickened, matching Malachi’s heartbeat. Danny was close. So close.

A faint sound reached their ears—chanting in an ancient language that made Malachi’s skin crawl. The words were familiar yet twisted, a corrupted version of the angelic tongue.

“Ritual magic,”

Cassiel murmured. “They’re summoning all the powers of darkness.”

Ronen sneered. “Never thought I’d say this, but where’s Lucifer when you need him?”

Malachi huffed. “That useless bastard? Why do you think he has minions? He sits around on his sorry ass all day. Never met such a lazy fuck.”

Cassiel rolled her eyes. “Seriously. Every time he shows up at one of our council meetings, I want to bash his condescending face in. I still can’t believe Michael puts up with him.”

A muffled sound echoed from somewhere ahead, a pained groan that sent a jolt of fury through Malachi’s body.

“Danny,”

he breathed, every muscle tensing.

Ronen placed a restraining hand on his arm. “Easy. We need to know what we’re walking into.”

The corridor opened into a larger space that appeared to be an old storage area for stage props and equipment.

Dusty set pieces loomed like ghostly spectators as they crept forward.

The chanting grew louder, emanating from behind a massive backdrop painted with a faded mountain scene.

Malachi signaled for them to fan out, taking the center position himself.

The pain from the crystal only fueled his determination.

Danny’s presence enveloped him.

His mate was frightened, confused, but alive.

They rounded the backdrop, where they were met with a stone wall.

Malachi ran his fingers along the cold surface, quickly discovering a seam that had to be the edge of a hidden entrance.

He met Cassiel’s eyes and pointed at his discovery.

She nodded, removing another vial with a purplish tint that gave off a faint light.

With a flick of her wrist, she sprinkled several drops against the stone, and within moments, the barrier melted silently, as if it were wood and she’d immersed it in acid.

Malachi whispered in her ear.

“Signal the reinforcements, but instruct them to remain stealth as they close in.”

They used their enhanced vision to guide them down the dark, winding hallway.

After rounding a corner, they froze at the sight before them.

In the center of a cavernous basement stood an improvised altar draped with black cloth.

Candles formed a wide circle around the sacrilegious display, their flames unnaturally still despite the draft whispering through the room.

Danny lay across the altar, his wrists and ankles bound with what seemed to be living shadow, tendrils of darkness writhing against his skin.

His eyes were open yet vacant. Clearly, he was under some kind of spell.

Surrounding the altar were what must be forty or fifty shadow gargoyles, their twisted forms hunched in reverence as they continued their unholy chant.

Gideon stood at the head of the altar, hands raised, a malevolent grin distorting his once-familiar features.

A curved obsidian dagger gleamed in his right hand.

He held it up high, perched on his palms as if he were about to auction it off.

“The time draws near,”

Gideon announced, his voice deeper than Malachi remembered, as if something else spoke through him. “As soon as our enemy brings us the Holy Grail, I will plunge this dagger into his heart, catching the blood of the Nephilim in the sacred vessel.”

His lips peeled back in a hideous grin. “Then we will be the ones who will have power over all the rogues and shadow gargoyles!”

The rage building in Malachi’s chest threatened to explode. Danny’s long blond hair spilled across the black altar cloth, his lean body trembling despite his trance-like state.

“Now, Cassiel,”

he snarled. “Summon the Slayers!”

With a feral battle cry, Malachi rushed forward, focusing only on saving Danny, getting him away from the filth who had dared to touch him.

The shadow gargoyles whirled at Malachi’s cry, their ruby eyes flaring with surprise and hatred. In an instant, the basement erupted into chaos. Snarls and screeches replaced the unholy chanting as the creatures abandoned their ritual positions.

“Slayers!”

Gideon roared, his voice no longer human. He yanked Danny up by his hair, pressing the twisted blade against his throat. “One more step and I’ll end him now!”

Malachi froze mid-stride, his entire body vibrating with barely contained fury. The crystal against his chest burned like a supernova, Danny’s fear pulsing through their connection.

“You won’t,”

Malachi growled, his voice dropping to the dangerous register that had made even Michael raise an eyebrow on occasion. “You need him alive for your pathetic little ceremony.”

Gideon’s face contorted into something gnarled, features shifting between his familiar face and something grotesque beneath. “Perhaps. But I don't need him unharmed.”

The dagger pressed deeper, drawing a drop of blood from Danny’s throat. Even in his trance-like state, Danny flinched, a small whimper escaping his lips. The sound pierced Malachi’s heart like an arrow.

“Let him go, Gideon. This isn’t you, you’re not like them.”

Cassiel stepped forward, her weapon gleaming. “You’re surrounded. The others are already here.”

As if on cue, the remaining Slayers materialized from the gloomy recesses of the basement, weapons drawn. The shadow gargoyles hissed and snarled, their twisted forms shifting restlessly, primed for battle.

A cloud of doubt passed over Gideon’s features, his expression reminiscent of his true self. But Malachi didn’t have time to ponder whether Gideon could be redeemed. All that mattered was Danny.

With a roaring shout, Malachi called out, “Attack!”

He shifted in mid-air, his wings bursting from his body, blade dropping to the floor as his talons extended. He slammed into Gideon, wrenching Danny free from his clutches. Danny fell to the ground in a lifeless heap, and for a split second, Malachi was also distracted.

Gideon lunged toward him, slicing the black blade across Malachi’s chest, tearing his stony flesh. No earthly blade could cut gargoyle skin, only the claws, fangs, or spikes of a shifted monster. Whether born of heaven or hell, a grotesque could only be injured by another of a similar kind. Malachi stumbled backward, holding his palm to the open gash. It wasn’t deep, but it was bleeding profusely.

“You can’t win, Gideon!”

Cassiel shouted, decapitating a shadow gargoyle with a graceful arc of her blade. “The rest of our team is destroying those who follow you!”

Behind them, Ronen and the remaining Slayers engaged with lethal precision, their weapons flashing as they cut through the shadows. The narrow space worked to their advantage, funneling the creatures into a deadly bottleneck.

Malachi remained between Gideon and Danny, determined to stand his ground, Cassiel now standing beside him, shoulder to shoulder.

“You heard her, Gideon. Give up.”

Malachi wanted to appeal to the brave warrior who had once fought beside him, reach past the darkness, and bring him back to the light. But his overpowering rage toward the piece of shit who’d dared to hurt and threaten his mate couldn’t be contained. If Gideon didn’t drop his weapon that second, all bets were off.

Gideon's eyes blazed with hellfire as his form shimmered between his human shape and something far more monstrous than his gargoyle.

“You don't understand what power they’ve promised me,”

he snarled, his voice oscillating between his own and something ancient, guttural. “This Nephilim is the key. His bloodline carries the essence we need.”

“And you believe them?”

Malachi spat, edging closer. “The rogue demons lie, Gideon. They’ve been lying for ages. Lucifer taught them too well, which is the only reason he came to the Divine Spark for help.”

“Don’t you remember, Gideon?”

Cassiel interjected. “You were once a sentinel, a proud Slayer. It’s not too late to let go of your power lust and return to the fold.”

A flicker of doubt crossed Gideon’s features before his expression hardened once more. “Too late for regrets now.”

With inhuman speed, he lunged toward Danny’s prone form.

Malachi intercepted him with a brutal tackle, both of them crashing into the altar. The obsidian blade sliced across his forearm as they grappled, the pain white-hot but secondary to his need to protect Danny.

“Get Danny out of here!”

Malachi shouted to Cassiel as he wrestled with Gideon on the stone floor, talons raking against the traitor's flesh.

Cassiel darted forward, scooping up Danny’s limp form. The moment she touched him, Danny’s eyes flew open, a startled gasp escaping his lips.

“No!”

Gideon bellowed, his partially shifted form contorting with rage. “The ritual isn't complete!”

Malachi seized the momentary distraction, swiping a wing against Gideon’s side and flipping him onto his back.

“You chose the wrong team,”

Malachi growled, pinning Gideon with his weight. “And you touched what’s mine.”

Behind them, the clash of blades and the screeches of dying shadow gargoyles filled the vast space. Malachi’s focus narrowed to the traitor beneath him, his vision edged with unbridled fury.

“Your mate?”

Gideon laughed, blood bubbling from his lips. “You haven’t claimed him. He doesn’t even know what he is.”

“He’s still mine to protect,”

Malachi gritted, his talons digging into Gideon’s shoulders. “Something you should’ve been doing instead of serving these abominations.”

Gideon’s face contorted, his features becoming increasingly mutated as he crept closer to leaving his true gargoyle behind. “The rogues showed me truths you refuse to see. The Divine Spark keeps us leashed like dogs while we fight their eternal war.”

“Save your bullshit for someone who cares.”

Malachi’s tail curled upward, swishing back and forth, the spiked club at the end of the appendage ready to finish what Gideon had started when he stole Danny. “Last chance. Will you surrender?”

“Fuck you and your self-righteous stupidity.”

Gideon’s lips pulled back in a sneer. “My only regret is not getting to see him gutted and drained of every drop of his precious blood while you were forced to watch.”

Before he drew another breath, Malachi crushed Gideon’s skull with the club of his tail.

He spat on the traitor, then jumped to his feet.

Oily black smoke and the acrid stench of the ash remaining from slain shadow gargoyles surrounded him.

Ronen rushed over, shifting back to his human form.

One shadow remained, a warrior he’d never officially met still battling it out with the disgusting creature.

Malachi swiped the back of his bloodstained hand across his lips. “Excuse me for a sec,”

he said to Ronen as he stomped across the room. He tapped on the Slayer’s shoulder, and the second he turned, Malachi thwacked the shadow on the side of the head with his tail. The creature vaporized and joined his buddies in a pile of ashes on the floor.

The Slayer frowned at him. “Hey, I had it.”

The crystal around his neck had survived unscathed, and Danny was alive and safe. He couldn’t give a shit about anything else.

“Yeah. I’m sure you did.”

He trained his eyes toward the exit. “But I’ve got somewhere important to be.”

A smile teased at the edges of his mouth. “And I can’t wait a second longer.”