Page 31

Laughing, Naomi ’ported to another spot and watched them skid to a halt, snapping their heads around as they searched for her. The other demons in the room took advantage, striking at the clerics, forcing them to divide their attention yet again.

It was a messy battle. Flaming orbs and electric-fire bullets whooshed across the room.

Streams of pure-white magick and red-violet flames flew back and forth.

Telekinetic waves rippled through the air, hitting their targets like a train.

The faint zaps of psychic hits could be heard among the cries, curses, and roars.

The Eliouds were pitiless in their attack. When they weren’t launching magick, they were aiming to slash and stab people with their swords. None scored hits on Naomi this time, but she didn’t know if she could say the same for those in her lair.

As for the damage? Portraits hit the floor. Glass smashed. Splinters came off the wooden furniture. Stray hellfire collided with the walls, leaving scorch marks.

Wonderful.

Clerics flinched. Screamed. Fell. Dropped swords. Eyed their injuries in horror. Literally burned alive as her acidic fire ate at them.

Sensing movement, Naomi turned.

But not fast enough.

A sword slashed her arm, causing a blazing fiery pain— fucking ouch —to race down it. More, she had the same sensation as last time: a sliver of something malevolent creeping inside her.

“Fucker,” she spat, even as her inner fire rose up to incinerate the sliver and heal her wound.

Baby Face’s brow creased in confusion as her flesh reknitted. Confusion that was swiftly chased away by a fanatical hatred. “Die!”

“Nope.” She scorched his blade with power, forcing him to drop it, and—

“Don’t kill him, he’s all that’s left!” shouted Jolene.

Bummer. Naomi had wanted to make him pay for that slice. Instead, she pyroported behind him, wrapped her arm tight around his neck, and then squeezed hard.

He choked on a breath and struggled against her hold.

As a demon, she was stronger than him, and he couldn’t get himself free.

He desperately clawed at her arm and tried stomping on her feet.

She thought he’d start lobbing magick at her, but it was as if he wasn’t thinking, too caught up in sheer animal panic.

She didn’t release him. Didn’t loosen her hold. Just kept on choking him out.

His struggles weakened until finally he lost consciousness.

Naomi let him drop to the floor and then looked around. The rest of his brethren had been slain. Her lair members were all on their feet, but a few looked a little the worse for wear. “Anyone need healing?”

Ciaran waved away the offer. “I’ve only got minor burns, they’re healing already.” The others echoed his sentiment, except for her mother and her anchor.

Tobe stared down at the slice on his chest. “It’s only shallow, so I’d say it ain’t a big deal, but I felt dark magick enter my bloodstream.”

Naomi pressed her hand over his wound, calling her inner fire to the surface, letting it heal him as it would her. She then gave the same treatment to the slashes on her mother’s neck and arm.

All seraphim could heal. Her power might not be pure like theirs, but it could still perform that ability. It had come in handy often over the years.

“Nobody else has an injury they want rid of?” she double-checked.

“We’re all peachy,” said Alfie, and the others nodded in agreement.

Smoothing back the hairs around her face that had escaped her stylish updo, Jolene said, “I believe we’re ready for step two in our plan. Let’s move the cleric over to the bed.”

Beck scooped him up and unceremoniously tossed him over his shoulder while Jolene snatched up a fallen sword.

Naomi used red-violet fire to incinerate every trace of his brethren’s existence, including the other blades.

Meanwhile, Beck positioned Baby Face on her bed while Jolene propped the sword up against the dresser.

Tobe then quickly injected him with a drug that was a slightly stronger version of truth serum.

Khloe rubbed her palms together. “Fingers crossed this all goes well and we get the answers we need.”

“Your fingers aren’t crossed,” Ciaran seemed to feel compelled to point out.

“You’re so literal sometimes,” his sister griped.

“Right, all of you step away from the bed and stand behind Tobe,” Jolene ordered. “The human should wake any minute.”

They did as instructed, at which point Tobe threw up a shield that would hide their presence.

Jolene then knocked back a vial of something she’d bought from Ella—it was basically liquidized glamor magick.

Her facial features seemed to blur, swim, ripple, then re-form into a completely different face.

Her features hadn’t truly changed; the magick simply made them appear different to whoever looked at her.

Jolene turned to them, hand on hip, and patted her hair. “Well, how do I look?”

“A lot like my grandmother,” Beck said honestly.

The Prime smiled. “Excellent. She has a sweet face that screams ‘You can trust me.’ That will help.”

Hopefully, yes, it would. They needed the cleric to feel comfortable with Jolene. To see her as no threat and lower his guard, if only a little.

They wouldn’t be able to squeeze information out of him via even the most gentle interrogation. Questions relating to the monkhood and the dark practitioner would no doubt trigger his brain and body to conk out. That meant they would have to make him share willingly .

People did that during conversations if they felt relaxed and safe. The truth serum would make him more inclined to be open; it would remove his hesitation to keep secrets. So as long as Jolene stuck to clever prompts, she should be able to make him blurt out helpful information.

“This had better work,” muttered Tobe, rolling his shoulders.

“Fingers crossed it does,” said Khloe.

Ciaran sighed. “ Again , you’re not actually crossing them.”

“ Again , I’m doing it mentally.”

“Why not just do it physically?”

“I’m tired.”

Jolene raised a hand, gesturing for silence. “Quiet. He’s starting to stir.” She perched herself on the edge of the bed, plastered a gentle look on her face, and focused on him.

Soon, his eyelids began to flutter and he mumbled non-intelligible words beneath his breath. He looked up at Jolene, his eyes a little glazed over. “Who are you?”

“Someone who means you no harm,” Jolene replied, her voice soft and lulling. “I found you outside in my yard. You’re hurt. It seems something happened to you.”

His brow furrowing, he lifted his head to take stock of himself, noticing the burns on his chest and arms. Confusion deepened his frown. “The last thing I remember is leaving the monastery with my brothers.”

“I didn’t see anyone else outside.”

“Her protectors must have slaughtered them,” he concluded, though he seemed to be speaking to himself. “Any who try to kill her don’t come back.”

Jolene lightly patted his hand in comfort. “Others may not have survived, but you did. You’re a strong one. And you’ll be back on your feet soon enough. Then you can return to your monastery.”

He swallowed, distressed. “The brothers there won’t be pleased that we failed. And he will be angry.”

He being the dark practitioner, Naomi guessed.

“No one will be angry with you,” Jolene assured him.

“Yes, yes, they will,” he insisted. “I was supposed to kill her.”

“Maybe you did.”

A line dented his brow at that. “You’re right. I don’t recall killing her, but I might have.” Hope lit his eyes. “It could be why I survived.”

“Exactly. You’ll return a hero, not a failure.”

He nodded. “I’ll be rewarded, just as promised.”

“I do love rewards. Especially if they involve chocolate.”

“This one isn’t chocolate. It is so much more.” His gaze went out of focus. “He’s so pure and whole. He shines so bright it’s sometimes hard to look at him. But how can we not look at him? Even without wings he is magnificent. And now I will ascend like he promised.”

Naomi sent out a telepathic comment that would reach every demonic mind in the room. Sounds like the dark practitioner has definitely somehow convinced the clerics that he’s an angel.

We need to find out where the monkhood is , Tobe asserted, his fingers flexing. If we don’t take them out, they’ll keep coming.

Relax, we’ll have the information we need soon. Jolene refocused on the cleric. “If you need a ride home, just say so. I’ll drive you wherever you need to go.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “The monastery isn’t local.”

She flapped a hand. “That’s fine.”

“It’s over an hour’s drive away.”

“Not a problem. I’d feel better dropping you off. That way I’ll know you got home safely.”

A grateful smile graced his face. “Thank you. You’re so nice.”

Naomi barely held back an amused snort. By the looks on her companions’ faces, they were in the same boat.

Jolene raised a hand, as if she’d just remembered something. “Oh, I think I might have found something of yours outside. It was lying beside you. A very impressive sword.”

He gripped her hand, a sense of urgency in his expression. “Do you have it?”

“Yes, I brought it inside. It’s right over there.” She pointed at where it rested against the dresser.

Relief made him release her hand with a long breath. “Thank you. I’ll need to take it back to the monastery with me. It was given to me by someone very special.”

The supposed angel, I’m guessing , said Khloe, to which Naomi nodded.

Jolene bit her lip in contemplation, most likely wondering how she could push him into revealing more. “I’m glad you have someone special in your life,” she said at last. “My children, ah, they’re my world.”

“He’s a whole other kind of special,” Baby Face told her, his expression one of awe and wonder. “If you met him, you would understand. Just looking at him makes me feel closer to God.”

Gag , said Khloe, dramatically hunching forward as if she’d puke.

“How lovely,” said Jolene. “You’re lucky to have met him, then.”

“So lucky,” he agreed, his eyes fairly sheening with happiness. “God sent him to us; gave us these blades. His holiness is channeled through the steel. You don’t even need to deliver a killing blow—you just need to be able to sink it into someone. God’s power will do the rest.”

Naomi rolled her eyes. Magick will do the rest , she corrected. He’s so pitifully delusional I feel kind of sorry for him. Especially when I’m pretty sure he was someone the monkhood abducted as a kid.

We can’t allow him to live, Nome , said Tia. He would keep coming for you. The clerics won’t stop. The dark practitioner wouldn’t permit it if they tried.

She knew that, but it still sucked.

Jolene patted the cleric’s hand again. “Let me know when you feel ready to leave. Now, be warned, I don’t have what you would call a pigeon’s instincts, so I’ll need you to give me very clear directions or we’re apt to get lost.”

His lips hitched up. “I can do that. The monastery is tricky to find unless you know where to look, but it’s not all that far from what is in my opinion the best ghost town in all of Nevada.”

Jolene went still, and then her mouth curved. “I do love ghost towns. The one closest to the Grand Canyon is probably my favorite.”

“My favorite is—”

“Why in the underworld is there a priest in my daughter’s bed?”