Death of a DEMON
Lacy Andersen
HEART of a DEMON
Copyright 2018 by Lacy Andersen
All Rights Reserved
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
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First Edition
Cover by Christian Bentulan
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Death of a Demon (The Dark Angel Wars, #3)
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Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
About the Author
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Chapter One
The young man screamed and spat at the young priest standing in front of him. My team spread throughout the aisles of the church, weapons drawn at our sides. The priest recited a Latin incantation in a breaking voice. In his shaking hands, he held a worn leather-bound Bible and a wooden box. Reaching the end of a phrase, he took a small vile from the pocket of his shirt and splashed the contents on the man’s face.
“In the name of Jesus, I compel thee,” he croaked.
An eerie laugh escaped the man’s mouth. He whipped his head from side to side, water droplets flinging from the ends of his stringy brown hair. His golden tan skin turned green as he leaned forward and retched onto the priest’s shoes.
“We’ve got another one,” Gabe said in a monotonous tone.
He held a short dagger in his hand and had a thin blade strapped across his back. His brown hair had grown longer over the past year. It hung over his ears with a slight wave.
When we weren’t on work duty, I loved to push it out of his emerald green eyes and run my hands through it. The thought gave me butterflies. Still, now wasn’t the time or place to be thinking of such things. We had a job to do. The same job we’d been doing since the Hell Gate had been sealed shut nearly a year ago.
His brother, Adam, followed closely behind. They had similar athletic figures, but where Gabe was dark, Adam was blond and blue-eyed. He nodded his agreement and waved the rest of us forward in militarized fashion.
Ashley went first. She towered nearly five inches over me, her entire body solid as a rock. She was the Giselle of Nephilim warriors and had a serious appetite for competition. Next, was my cousin Raquel. Just two months ago, she’d been branded an official warrior with a blood oath. Like an eager puppy, she’d jumped at the chance to sniff out the demons who’d escaped the Black Hills Forest last year. If it were up to her, she’d travel the whole world searching out the elusive ones. But so far, it seemed like most of our troubles hadn’t migrated out much further than the four of the surrounding states.
I followed behind my cousin. In my hands, I cradled a semi-automatic glock. The biting cold of the metal pressed against my sweaty palms. No matter how many times we did this, I always got a nervous rush of energy right before the exorcism. If all went well, we’d free this man from his demonic host and send him back to live his life. But exorcising a demon was no walk in the park. If things got out of control, our only option was to kill him. Killing demonic forms in the forest was one thing; killing a human host was entirely different.
A floorboard creaked and the young priest spun to find us closing in on him. His face went white and he clutched the Bible to his chest. “What are you doing here?” he asked in a shaking voice. “This is the house of the Lord.”
“We know that, Father.” Gabe took a step up toward the alter. “We are God’s warriors, sent to help. Leave this to us.”
He stuttered and looked each of us over. Our eyes met for the briefest second. I knew that look. Fear had engraved a home within his soul. He was out of his depths.
“What are you going to do?” he managed to utter.
Gabe ignored him, marching straight toward the wild-eyed man in the chair. His hands had been bound by a thick rope and his ankles similarly tied to the legs of the simple wooden chair. The man smiled wide, his eyes bulging with the effort. He gazed at Gabe and hissed.
“What are you going to do?” the priest asked again, his eyes glued to the vicious dagger in Gabe’s hands. “Don’t hurt him. This man doesn’t deserve to die.”
“In our line of work, no one ever does,” Gabe muttered.
While he examined our captive, the four of us formed a circle around them. We’d had some near disasters in the past. It was best to be prepared for anything.
Feral demons in human hosts had enhanced powers. I’d seen them throw full-grown men across the room with nothing but a flick of their wrists. It was impressive that this priest had managed to wrangle one. Usually, we had to hunt them down to the darkest corners before we could conduct the ceremony.
“This man has a family,” the priest insisted, his voice breaking.
He stepped in front of Gabe, thrusting out his chest. A bookish man, small in stature, he never would’ve stood a chance against a Nephilim warrior. Still, Gabe was patient.
“Step aside.” He fixed him with a hard stare. I knew this part was hard for him. He didn’t like the risk involved with exorcism and there could be no guarantee of results.
“He’s a loving husband and a good friend.” The priest blinked his watery blue eyes. “I won’t let you hurt him.”
Sorrow tugged at my heart as Gabe placed a comforting hand on the priest’s shoulder. This was the possessed man’s only chance. The Nephilim had managed to revive an ancient exorcism practice that was last used at the turn of the century. With the huge influx of demons that had escaped last year, it’d become imperative to find a way to cleanse humans of their demon parasites while creating the least damage possible.
But there were drawbacks. It only worked on ferals, the lowest level of demon-kind. And it only had about a fifty percent success rate. Too often, the human host died anyway. I’d questioned this process myself at least a dozen times, but there was no way around it. It was the only option we had.
“Time for the test,” Gabe explained in a soft voice. “We always test, to be sure.”
The test was something Luke had insisted on instilling for all the teams tracking down
demons. It was a simple way to make sure the human we’d cornered wasn’t suffering from a mental illness rather than possession.
We’d come across a few false alarms. My father, Luke, was always able to find help for them. I imagine the memories they held of a team of armored angel warriors coming to get them would eventually be dismissed as fragments of their delusions. Still, I knew we could be a frightening bunch. Not something easily forgotten.
Gabe held out the silver coated dagger. “Stand back. This might get violent.”
Despite the priest’s protests, he pressed the flat side of the dagger against the man’s cheek. The skin beneath the metal began to hiss and steam, as the demon flailed his body recklessly back and forth. Gabe yanked the dagger away and in its place a red angry welt bubbled up across his cheek.
We didn’t need any more confirmation. This was a demon. Only demonic forces reacted to purified silver so violently. I shifted my grip on my gun and bounced on the balls of my feet.
“You think you’ve won.” A high-pitched oily voice came from the man’s distorted mouth. He laughed as his eyes rolled in his head. “My Prince has you cornered. He will reign. He will destroy you all.”
I exchanged a glance with Raquel across from me. Her green eyes lit with confusion. We hadn’t heard about any of the six Princes of Hell since last fall when one of them tried to use me as a key to unlock the Hell Gate and set forth his legion of demons on the Earth. Thankfully, that Prince was locked up tight, thanks to the determined and meticulous training of my trainer, Manuel.
May he rest in peace.
“Your Prince can rot in Hell,” Adam shot back with a sneer. He chortled and raised his eyebrows in a challenge. “He’s never getting out.”
“Such ignorant peasants,” the man muttered to himself. His head swiveled on his neck. “The darkness comes to bite. It comes to kill. It’s here. It’s here. Right outside that door.”
He gazed down the sanctuary aisle with sudden clarity, focusing in on the doors that led to the outside. Despite our confidence that no one would be joining us from the underworld, all six pairs of eyes followed his lead.
Nothing stirred.
“See? Your Prince has abandoned you,” Adam replied haughtily.
I wanted to give him a good, swift kick. Making a demon mad never seemed to help our cause. And sure enough, this one was furiously struggling against his bonds.
“He’d never abandon his children,” he growled. “He comes for me.”
With a yank, he broke the ropes around his wrists as easily as a piece of straw. With two solid kicks, the wooden chair beneath him disintegrated into kindling and his ankles were free.
The church burst into a frenzy. Gabe was the first to attack. He flew forward, his jaw set in a determined expression. The demon side-stepped him and with a smack on the back, sent him hurtling toward the alter. Despite the sudden jolt of fear I got from watching the love of my life crumple to the floor, I had to keep my attention on the job at hand. Raquel and I fired on the demon, emptying our magazines of silver-coated bullets. With inhuman speed, he darted behind the pulpit and dodged our shots.
“Move in,” Adam cried. He drew a blade from his side, a sinister piece of metal with curved edges and a razor-thin edge. “Don’t let it escape.”
Ashley and I rounded the large wooden pulpit. By this time, I had my trusty daggers in my hands. Raquel and Adam took the north side. The priest had run to Gabe’s aid and my heart thudded in relief as I saw him begin to stir.
The demon attacked Ashley first, driving her to the ground with his foot on her chest. She gasped for air, but managed to swipe at his calves. He rolled to the floor, laughing maniacally. Gritting my teeth, I shot forward, feeling the power in my muscles as I drew on the angelic powers gifted to me by my Nephilim father. Drive left, dodge right, he evaded my every strike. To the priest watching wide-eyed nearby, I’m sure we appeared as blurs, moving too fast for the human eye to see.
Suddenly, everything stopped. It took a moment for my mind to catch up to what was happening. A hand clutched my windpipe, cutting off my source of air. The demon raised me up by my throat and dug his fingernails viciously into my skin. Hot blood ran down my neck and soaked into my black t-shirt. I kicked out, but it was no good. He had me in his grip and the glint in his blood-red eyes told me I was done for.
“Weak. So very weak,” he growled angrily. “And you expected to beat me?”
As I struggled like a worm on a hook for the tiniest breath, a shout went out. Gabe rammed him squarely in the stomach with his shoulder, sending me reeling to the floor. Coughing and sputtering for breath, I looked up to see my friends trading blows with the demon. They moved down the aisles of pews. Splintered wood flew, shards piercing the fragile drywall.
In all the commotion, no one but me noticed a small child enter the sanctuary. He stood in a white robe and gawked at the destruction. With short brown hair cropped above his ears, wide-eyes, and pink cheeks, he had to have been only about six years old.
Bile rose from my stomach when I saw him. Without hesitation, I lunged from the floor toward him. Someone had to get him out of here. The last thing we needed was a hostage situation. But as I moved, I caught a glimpse of the demon to my right. The fight had stalled for a moment. A devilish grin spread across his cheeks, hunger burning in his eyes. I knew why.
He’d spotted the boy.
Chapter Two
It became a race across the church for the life of one tiny boy. Blood pumped through my veins like tiny shards of ice. The blur of movement to my right told me the demon and I were neck-and-neck, both reaching out toward the child. His mouth fell open as he watched the race toward him. Drawing closer, I could see the specks of gold in his wide brown eyes. Fear and uncertainty clouded them. He had no idea how fragile he was—how a demon like this could snap him in two without blinking.
I had to reach him first. His life depended on me.
My fingers clasped the front of his white cotton robe and my arm encircled his back. Without thinking, I threw him over my shoulder and sprinted down the nearest pew. Claws grazed against the back of my t-shirt. Snatching a silver dagger from my belt, I tossed it behind me and smiled when I heard a satisfying demonic roar of anger.
“Shh, shh, you’ll be okay.” I pressed the little boy to my chest as he began to wail.
His little fists beat against my arms, but I kept him in my protective grasp as I glanced over my shoulder. Gabe and my friends had caught up to our demon target and engaged him in battle once again. Loosening my grip on the little boy, he dropped his arms in defeat, giant crocodile tears glistening on his round cheeks.
“Come,” I said, taking his tiny hand in mine. It was hot and sweaty. “Let’s get you out of here.”
The tears clearing from his eyes, he gazed up at me, suddenly the image of tiny strength. With a nod of his head, he followed me up the side of the pews and to the front of the church where the priest still stood. I deposited the boy into his arms and they hugged tightly.
“Aaron,” the priest breathed. He sobbed into his hair. “You weren’t supposed to come in today. I told your mom you could have the day off from altar training.”
“She thought you needed some company,” the boy said between sniffles. His little voice made me want to cry. “That you sounded sad. And I could cheer you up.”
The priest smiled through his tears. “She’s right. But I’m afraid I put you in extreme danger.”
“We’ve got to go,” I told them. Although I hated to interrupt this beautiful reunion, a demon was still rampaging through the pews. “Let’s get you somewhere safe.”
As if on cue, the battle returned to the front of the church. Cries of anger and demonic growls filled the air. I crouched in front of the priest and the altar boy, shielding them with my arms. Gabe struck out with his sword, driving the demon to seek shelter behind the pulpit.
“Go, go, go,” I whispered, waving my arms. “Get out of here.”
B
efore they could move, a terrible scream shattered the air. It had come from the demon. He was staring at the warriors, fear burning in his red eyes, and backing himself into a corner.
“We’ve got him,” Raquel cried drawing my attention. Her hair had fallen loose from its braid and blood had smeared on her cheek.
The team surrounded the pulpit, and slowly moved in on the demon hissing behind it. They all looked like they’d been put through the ringer. This was definitely one of our tougher exorcisms. My father wasn’t going to be happy to hear the details.
Ashley pointed at Raquel. “Go around back. We’ve got him cornered.”
Before anyone could move, the pulpit burst into a million tiny wooden shards in front of our faces. Shielding the two humans from the debris, I felt a strong force of energy pass in front of me. Like a strong wind, it caused devastation and ruin, throwing us all to the floor. I searched over my charges, but no harm done. Aaron clung to the priest’s robes, but he didn’t cry out in pain. He was such a strong little boy.
With a growl, Adam managed to get back to his feet the quickest of all of us. The demon was moving so fast, I could hardly see him. But that didn’t stop Adam from taking a swing with his wicked sword and stopping the demon in its tracks, the blade just a hairbreadth shy from cleaving his chest in two.
“Move again, scum, and you’re worm food,” he snarled. His lips curled back to reveal his perfectly straight white teeth, bloody from the battle.
“Get him out of here,” I whispered to the priest, gazing intently at Aaron.
No more taking any chances. This demon had proved to be the most powerful we’d come up against yet. There was no telling if the exorcism would have any effect on him. We needed to clear the room.
“Of course.” He struggled to his feet, the boy’s hand in his. “Come on, Aaron.”
I watched the little boy run after him with quiet mourning in my heart. What he saw today could never be erased. Most humans lived their lives totally clueless of the dark underbelly of Hell walking among them. And they were happy that way. Little Aaron now had a glimpse of that world and he’d always be left wondering. Afraid of the dark and afraid of the unknown. It was a grim outlook.
Death of a Demon (The Dark Angel Wars: Book 3): An Urban Fantasy Romance Page 1
