by ML Guida
Not wanting to continue this unnerving conversation, she changed the subject. “Why don’t I feel sick any longer? Is the poison gone?”
“No.”
Not the answer she wanted to hear.
“But as long as you remain here, you’ll not be in pain. The minute you leave it will return with a vengeance.”
“There’s no cure.”
“No.” He pivoted away from her. Had he lied? Was there a cure? Maybe she could trick him into telling her.
He headed over to a wooden door between two plantation windows. “I suggest you don’t open this door. This is my sacred place, no ghost demon, Hellhound, or demon will trespass here without my consent.” He opened the door, and she gasped. Flames rose high, but a cobblestone sidewalk appeared. Out of the flames, a large black dog, twice the size of any Rottweiler, slowly approached Balthazar. Its red eyes glowed. The beast curled its lip, revealing sharp, pointed teeth. Behind him, another black form came out of the flames. Its yellow eyes glowed, and gold horns glittered off what would be its head. Those had to be the creatures that tortured Blade. She put her hand to her throat, too terrified to move, afraid they would attack and rip her into tiny pieces.
“However, if you step outside,” Balthazar said. “You’ll be at the mercy of my friends – these are just two of them. One is a Hellhound, the other a ghost demon. Others are hiding in the flames watching. I’m afraid my friends will not be as kind as I am. Do you understand?”
She swallowed. “Yes.”
Her throat was tight with terror, and she wasn’t even sure she had uttered the simple word.
He shut the door and left. Despair filled her. She was trapped in his condo, and he planned to keep her as his love slave to punish Blade. Where was he? Had he truly changed?
Tears splashed onto her black boots. “Blade,” she sobbed. She half choked his name. She wanted him so desperately, to feel his arms around her, to inhale his leather scent, and to have him call her Red. Should she pray for Raphael? Michael? Scythe? Would any of them hear her prayers?
Poison, maybe, Poison would answer. She came once before. Abigail pushed her hair back. She kneeled and clasped her hands together. “Angel of God, my guardian dear…”
At those words, the floor grumbled. Hands formed out of the hardwood floor. She screamed as she was propelled into the air by an invisible force.
“Don’t pray.”
Balthazar didn’t appear, but his loud voice reverberated through the room. She clasped her ears and crumpled onto the floor.
As the hands disappeared, the floor returned to normal. She crawled into a ball and wept. How could she contact anyone? Would they even try to win her back? She couldn’t go outside without being mangled. This was hell. Anything was possible. One minute, she could be in this warm room, the next thrown into a fire pit, roasting alive. She was a prisoner, Balthazar’s prisoner, at the mercy of his every whim.
“Damn you, Blade,” Balthazar yelled from outside. “The bitch is mine.”
Blade? Was he here? Pushing back her fear, she raced to the door, hoping to see Blade’s stoic face. She opened it. The ghost demon thing laughed and lunged for her. She screamed. Her heart slamming into her chest, she flung the door shut and slid down. Balthazar’s cry had been an illusion. How would she ever know what was real?
She brought her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around them, and put her head on top of her knees. “Blade, hear me. I love you.”
A chorus of cruel laughter echoed outside, mimicking her words. “Blade, I love you.”
She bit her lip and hid her face in her knees. The things would taunt her. She actually wished Balthazar was here. With him, she didn’t feel as frightened, but it was an illusion. He was more dangerous than those things outside. How could she survive this for eternity?
***
Blade followed Michael down the portal into hell. Michael stretched out Excalibur. The sword’s brilliant white light chased away the gloom in the dark tunnel.
“Tis the Archangel Michael! Lucifer, Balthazar save us.” Demonic screams pierced Blade’s ears, and he shuddered. No demon would withstand Michael, except for one, and he prayed Lucifer was busy elsewhere. Lucifer had once been an Archangel and refused to follow God’s law. Michael was the one who cast him into darkness, and now the two, once brothers, were bitter enemies.
Scythe and Saber were on either side of Blade and their white light and faith filled him with hope. They were all brothers again. He’d forgotten the bond of relying on a brother, knowing they’d be at his side in battle. As a demon, he could never trust the demons would support him. In hell, the motto was every demon for himself. If a demon fell behind, he was left behind.
Scythe and Saber would die at his side if need be, they’d never abandon him. And now, for the first time in a long time, he’d pledge his life to his brothers. He was an Angel of Death. Pure light flowed through him, and he was ready to follow God’s law, ready to battle the foes of darkness, ready to save his mate.
A ball of fire flickered ahead, and Blade swallowed. The flames died. Burning red lava rivers flowed and erupting volcanoes spewed ash and foul fumes. Sweat drenched Blade. His black wings stretched wide, Balthazar held a Hellish sword in his hand and stood on the crusty bank near a river of lava.
Luckily, his boss, Lucifer was nowhere to be seen, but that meant nothing. The Devil could show up at any minute. They didn’t have much time.
But Balthazar wasn’t alone. A host of ghost demons hovered behind him.
Michael landed across the river, and Blade, Scythe, and Saber spread out behind him. Blade scanned the bank but did not see any sign of Abigail. His heart melted with dread. He gripped Elixir tighter. Where was she?
“Hello, Balthazar,” Michael said. “We’ve come for the girl.”
“Yes, I know,” Balthazar said. “But those who betray me.” His lips curled up into a snarl. “Pay the price for their insolence.”
He snapped his finger. A voluptuous blonde appeared with Abigail and her fingers gripped Abigail’s arm. Blade sucked in his breath. Vixen.
Abigail twisted her arm and beat on Vixen’s hand. “Release me.”
A full head shorter, Vixen yanked Abigail closer. “You’re not going anywhere, bitch.”
Anger surged through Blade’s veins. He wanted to fly across the chasm and rescue Abigail, but he knew better. Balthazar wanted him to think with his emotions. In fact, he was counting on it. He forced himself to wait for Michael’s signal. If he made one wrong move, Abigail was dead.
“Victoria, no,” Saber whispered, his voice sad.
Saber’s shoulders sagged. After all this time, Saber still cared for the demon.
Blade could see how Vixen taunted Saber with her luscious body. Her low-cut, red midriff top barely hid her ample breasts. When she moved, the red ruby piercing her belly button glittered. But this was no woman. The woman Saber knew as Victoria was dead. Why couldn’t Saber move on? As a mortal, Vixen had been a witch, and her name was Victoria. Before she fell to the dark side, had she cast a spell on Saber, clouding his mind?
“Saber.” Vixen dug her long, red nails into Abigail’s flesh, and Abigail cried out.
Blade growled.
Michael glanced over his shoulder. “Silence.”
Tossing her head back, Vixen laughed. Her long, wavy hair cascaded down her back. It should have been a witch’s cackle, but it was a sweet laugh, a cherub’s laugh that grated on the last of Blade’s nerves.
“You’re in my domain, Michael,” Balthazar said.
Michael flew into the air. “And?”
Balthazar raced to meet Michael. “We play by my rules.”
Good and evil clashed swords, brother against brother.
“Now,” Michael ordered.
Blade didn’t hesitate. He thrust out his sword. The ghost demons surrounded Vixen and Abigail, an impermeable wall of pure evil. If one of those things even scratched Abigail, she’d be dead.
Balthazar sw
ung his sword. “You’ll never get her, Blade. Lucifer promised her to me.”
Blade swore he detected doubt and fear in his voice. Determination filled his soul.
He lifted his sword high, ready to slash through the ghost demons.
“Attack,” Balthazar said.
Another demon flew out of the flames, a hell sword in hand. He had a snarl on his face and he was bulkier and taller than Blade.
Scythe raced toward the demon. “Get to your mate, Blade.” He engaged in a clash of steel with the demon.
Scythe met his thrust. Blade wanted to help his brother, but Abigail cried out.
He rushed toward the evil wall, but the blasted ghost demons pressed closer to Abigail. They hissed and spat, their words guttural.
Saber came up alongside Blade. He pointed Benevolence. “Victoria,” he yelled. “Let the girl go.”
Annoyance flashed in Vixen’s eyes. “When will you get it through your head, Saber? Victoria is dead. I’m a demon. My name is Vixen.”
“So you keep saying,” Saber said as he and Blade crept closer to the wall. “Are you trying to remind me or yourself?”
Abigail twisted her body and elbowed Vixen’s side.
“Stop struggling.” Vixen whipped out a jeweled dagger that had been stuck in her skinny jeans and held it to Abigail’s slender throat. “One more move and you’re dead.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Vixen pressed the blade deeper into Abigail’s throat. Abigail was trapped against the lesser woman’s body, but the demon was stronger than Hercules.
Abigail’s arm throbbed where Vixen had dug her nails into her flesh. The clashes of sword between Balthazar and Michael and Scythe and Balthazar’s minion scraped her nerves. Each time their swords clashed, sparks flew through the air.
As the flames blazed, smoke rose higher and higher. Abigail’s eyes watered and she choked to breathe. Through the inferno, she peered at Blade and couldn’t believe the change. His white wings were stretched out wide. A white aura outlined his muscular body. He was more beautiful than he’d been before. He wasn’t a man, but an Angel of Death. He stabbed one of the ghost demons, and it screeched. She swelled with pride.
“Your mate isn’t very smart,” the female demon whispered.
She had a name. Vixen? Did she get that off a porn channel? She tried to retort, but when she opened her mouth, she coughed.
“He’ll never reach you in time,” Vixen said.
Abigail wanted to scratch the demon’s eyes out, but if she moved, the demon would slit her throat.
More ghost demons screeched and withered as Saber and Blade hacked a path toward her.
Vixen gripped her arm tighter and dug the blade deeper into her throat. Wetness trickled down Abigail’s throat. She clamped her jaw tight, powerless to keep the demon from decapitating her.
“Saber,” Vixen said. “Stop while you can. You fool!”
Blade thrust his sword again and again into the wailing creatures. A fire-breathing Hellhound swirled around Blade. It swiped his back with his claw. Blade cried out and staggered.
Abigail couldn’t see him through the black smoke and yelled. She moved and regretted her decision. The dagger pierced her skin.
“Yes, keep struggling, bitch,” Vixen said. “Please do.”
Abigail forced herself to remain still. This was stupid. She couldn’t fight the demon, but maybe there was another way. She closed her eyes and thought of Raphael, drawing on her healing power. The Archangel said she was one of his. Tingles swirled over her skin, caressing her like butterfly wings. Her heart pounded, sending determination through her, squashing her fear and amplifying her bravery.
“Stop it,” Vixen warned.
Abigail smiled at the fear vibrating in those two words. She prayed to Raphael silently—Please hear me. I ask you to increase my healing power.
The tingles increased, crushing the throbbing pain. Scythe was right. Prayer was powerful.
“No,” Vixen said, but her voice appeared strange, strangled. Her fingers unraveled and her grip slackened.
Without hesitation, Abigail slammed her elbow into Vixen’s ribs. To her surprise, Vixen released her. The dagger dropped onto the jagged rocks.
She ran toward Blade, but the snarling ghost demons blocked her path.
“You’re not going anywhere.” Vixen hurried toward Abigail, holding the dreaded dagger.
Abigail’s heart threatened to jump through her throat.
“Vixen, leave her alone!” Blade slashed through the demon horde and drew closer and closer.
Abigail wanted to fight her way to Blade, but she wasn’t an idiot. She’d be killed instantly. Shit, she was trapped. What was she going to do?
Vixen raised her hand to strike her. Abigail darted to the left. She did a somersault and rolled. She darted to her feet and froze. Blade was gone. Where did he go? Had he’d been killed? Tears threatened to fall.
Vixen grabbed her hair and yanked. “Now, where were we?”
Abigail’s eyes widened. Blade dived toward her with his sword drawn. She nearly wept with joy. For once luck was on her side, Vixen hadn’t glanced up with all the snarls of the ghost demons and the clashing of swords. She refused to give the demon the slightest hint that she was about to turn into a shish kabob.
Saber burst through the wall and rushed Vixen.
“Stay back!” Vixen cried.
But Saber slashed her arm. Vixen screamed. She released Abigail, shoving her toward a ghost demon. Before the demon could slice her with sharp claws, strong hands snatched her, whisking her into the air. A strong arm held her close to a steel body. She didn’t know who it was and fought hard. She kicked and her arms flailed.
“Red, it’s me,” a husky voice whispered in her ear.
She inhaled, mixed with sulfur and smoke was the familiar scent of leather. “Blade,” she said, her voice cracked with relief.
Below Vixen held her bleeding arm and screamed, “Balthazar! She’s getting away.”
“Vixen, you incompetent bitch,” Balthazar growled.
He pressed his sword against Michael’s and forced him back. Two demons took his place and engaged Michael into another battle. To Abigail’s horror, Balthazar pursued them. The scowl on his face liquefied her insides.
His handsomeness melted from his face. He opened his mouth and revealed sharpened, yellow teeth. Fire flickered in his eyes. Evil permeated from him.
“Hang on,” Blade whispered in her ear. He skyrocketed through the black smoke. Abigail couldn’t see Balthazar through the smoke. Hot wind whisked over Abigail, but rather than sweating, she broke out into a cold chill. Her teeth chattered. Goosebumps spread all over her. Her heart pounded, threatening to explode.
Balthazar burst through the smoke. “Blade, you’ll never make it out of here.”
Abigail cowered. Every word dripped with menace and venom.
She closed her eyes, too afraid to see Balthazar, terrified he’d seize her from Blade’s protective arms. How could they escape?
***
“Raphael,” Blade yelled.
A white light propelled down through the red tunnel and the presence diminished.
“Blade, she’s marked,” Balthazar warned. “She can’t escape me forever.”
Ignoring Balthazar’s threat, Blade headed for the light and clasped Abigail to his chest. Her sweet fragrance of mimosa propelled him to block out the pain throbbing in his back. Damn Hellhound! He’d been distracted by Abigail’s fear. Each time, he breathed, his back screamed with pain, but he could heal later.
Balthazar’s power rushed over him, tiny biting ants, burrowing panic into him, making his skin crawl. His power grew stronger. Words echoed in his mind to drop Abigail, and images floated in his mind of being tortured in Hell forever, his wings being ripped off, the skin being peeled from his body, pain unbearable pain, but Blade refused to give into terror. Balthazar was drawing on Sam’s fear that still must be buried inside him.
Blade
drew on his faith and pushed back the terror. He believed in his brothers. Michael would defeat the two demons, and then he’d engage Balthazar again. He believed in the Archangel, because if Balthazar caught them, he’d lose Abigail forever.
He picked up speed. Abigail tilted her head back. “You’re going so fast. I’m going to be faint.”
“I won’t drop you.”
She slowly released his arm and her body went limp. He half smiled. Good, she had passed out.
“Michael, damn you,” Balthazar yelled.
Blade didn’t glance back. Michael would keep Balthazar busy. He hoped Saber and Scythe had the sense to get out of Hell.
“Keep going, Blade,” Scythe urged, as he flew past Blade. “We’re not out of this yet.”
Blade sighed, a sense of relief and nodded, but it was short lived. He frowned as he noticed cuts and marks on Scythe’s arm. Scythe started to flounder in his flight.
“Elixir,” Blade said and his sword vanished. He felt the snake on his chest move and knew it was wrapped around his sword. He grabbed Scythe’s arm.
“No, you're...wounded...too,” Scythe gasped. He shook his head. “Let me go...I’ll slow you down. Get your mate out of here.”
Blade raised his eyebrow. “Why you want to be ghost demon fodder?”
He tightened his grip onto Abigail’s limp body and held onto his brother. Faith in Michael, Saber, and his brother thrust him forward, giving him strength.
Saber flew next to him.
“About time you joined the party,” Blade said.
He had bloody scratches on his face and pain mirrored in those eyes. Vixen.
“I’ve got him.” Saber draped his brother’s arm over his shoulder.
Blade held on tighter to Scythe. “Just help me.” He didn’t want to release Scythe. He trusted Saber, but not with Scythe’s life. What if Saber got distracted by Vixen? It wasn’t something he was willing to risk.
A bloody scream of rage and anger tore through the air. Blade almost dropped both Abigail and Scythe.
Michael flew past them. “I cast Balthazar back into Hell. Move. Lucifer is coming.”
Blade shook all the way to the tips of his wings. Even as a demon, he had never met Lucifer and definitely didn’t want to meet the Prince of Hell.
