“Bring the boy down. Prove to me there is still good left in your soul before you turn into a complete demon.”
“I can’t.” The red-rings returned to his pupils. “He’s coming.”
“Who’s coming?” Jordan intuitively sensed trouble.
“Well, well, what have we here?”
She kept one eye on Stringer, and the other on the sorcerer, who’d just appeared out of thin air.
“Grogan.”
“Jordan.” The sorcerer bowed in jest, wearing an unattractive smirk, and again dressed as a vagabond. “What brings you here?”
“I’d like to ask you the same question,” she said, hackles rising. “What brings you into this section of the city?” She tweaked her head at the boy. “To play with children?”
“Stringer is hardheaded. He’s my boy in training, shall we say. Not nearly as competent as Camille.” His glowering eyes changed into a false sadness. “I miss her abilities.”
Jordan winced. Images of Ronan’s mangled body were still ripe. “She worked as your pawn. But she rejected the dark side before she died.” Happy to see his scowl, Jordan, added, “Lucifer lost that soul.”
“Camille was unstable since the beginning, but competent enough for my means.” Grogan took a step forward. “I gave you the brew to save your mother’s life. Don’t forget that.”
“It depleted the curse, but hardly saved her life. We could’ve all been blown to bits.” She flicked the rapier, making him step back. “And at the loss of many lives.”
“Needless to say, Lucifer rejoiced in claiming their souls,” he said full of arrogance.
“I came here to help these kids. You’re not getting their souls this day.” She pointed with the rapier. “Release the magic hold.”
“Where’s your angel?” Grogan casually strode to the boy. “You’re working alone now, I see. Advancing into the big leagues. Fighting demons on your own?”
“Just release the boy,” Jordan said firmly, not wishing to prolong her time with them.
“Do you have any idea where you are?” Grogan stood adjacent to the levitating boy, and parting the boy’s eyelid with a thumb and index finger, looked into his face. “Well, do you?”
She gravitated to a concrete pillar. “I can only suspect you’ll be supplying me with that information.” She pressed her back against the pillar for protection while watching both Stringer and Grogan.
Like a ventriloquist’s puppet, Grogan’s obnoxious jaw sawed up and down as he laughed. “I’m beginning to like you, Jordan.” He passed his hand over and around the boy as if he was checking for a device keeping him afloat. “You and I could work together. We already have a special bond, don’t you think?”
“A bond?” Jordan had had just about enough of him. “If your scheme had worked, I’d be Lucifer’s demon-girl.”
“You accepted the proposition.” Grogan spun in her direction, registering hatred. “To save your mother.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I made a blood covenant with Camille.” She eyed Stringer, moving behind the sorcerer like a protective shield. “It was Ezekiel who pledged his spirit for our lives.”
“Minor details.” He waved a flippant hand. “You’ve been so in-tune to this little boy, your senses have dimmed.”
The sudden emergence of underlying demons socked Jordan below the belt. The sorcerer had been right. So intent on vanquishing Stringer and helping the young boys escape, she had misread her demon vibes. As netting of tentacles surrounded her, and she suddenly felt caged.
“I give up,” she said. “What is this place?”
“You’ve trespassed in the dwelling of pernicious demons,” he said, thoroughly entertained. “They have to live somewhere, don’t they? And what a perfect place to live. Undisturbed by intruders, except for the occasional young children looking for someplace to sow wild oats.”
“You mean this is like a boarding home for the damned?”
“One of many in the city,” he replied with a mocking brow. “By casting a glamour spell, most people visualize a tidy complex in good standing. You, on the other hand saw through my spell. How perceptive you’ve become. Your deity is arming you well.”
“So you’re like a slum lord for demons?” Now ascertaining an epic wavelength of demons, her entire body clenched. Girding her strength, she heard a cacophony of heavy footballs. Latching onto the levitating boy with her telekinesis, Jordan shoved his body to the side of the basement, out of harm’s way.
“That boy is ours!” Grogan glared, as the boy drifted away. “Stringer held him for me while waiting for the perfect spirit. Pervading someone so young is tricky. The spirit might be too powerful and burst the boy’s body like a balloon.” His evil snicker was heard over the commotion. “However, we’ve found just the right one. Jordan, you’re too late to save this boy.”
Horrified, she watched a supernatural entity sink through the concrete ceiling. It hovered in place, searching for the body.
Signaling with a finger, Grogan instructed the entity, “The boy waits for you, Deumos.”
As the basement began to load with demons, the entity appeared to falter, looking from the boy to Jordan.
Conscious of the tight spot she’d managed to get herself in, Jordan silently screamed for Markus.
“Deumos, you fool! The boy. Take the boy!” The sorcerer flagged his arms. “The girl is mine.”
Jordan’s fury swelled. Her blood crackled with a mysterious power like a magnetic current. The voltage burned her from within. She needed to liberate it, or be consumed from the inside out.
The entity surged toward the boy. Jordan raised her arm, firing a lightning bolt, and the creature erupted into flames. Wary, the congregating demons reared backward.
Whether it was the expulsion of lightning that unharnessed the boy’s levitation or it broke the magic spell, his body crashed to the floor. He looked around, appearing totally disoriented.
“Run!” Jordan screamed. “Get out, now!”
The boy hopped up like a jack-in-the-box and scampered away.
“Well done.” Grogan looked thrilled, clapping his hands in approval.
Drained, yet still on her feet, she peered at the demons. Some bodies appeared freshly demonized, their skin too clean and fresh, while the majority was the dregs of hell— contaminated creatures, reeking of death.
In a low undertone she murmured, “Markus, are you serious?” She inhaled deeply, aiming not to lose her head. “You’re really not going to help me here?”
“All right, my pretties, gag and hogtie her,” Grogan ordered, his face splitting with an insidious grin, and giving the demons free rein. “But I want her alive when you’re done with her.”
THEY SPILLED THEIR
BLOOD LIKE WATER
SWIFTLY JORDAN REACHED into her back pocket for the jack-knife. The rapier in one hand and the knife in the other, she wielded both as the basement flooded with demons. As soon as she destroyed one, two more took its place. She lunged, slashed, and stabbed. Slicing and dicing like a Vegamatic, her strength and agility had heightened. It rained demon blood and body parts, as she detached arms, heads, and legs at hyper speed.
She’d fight to the bitter end.
Her mouth fixed into a determined line, she stabbed a creature in the heart and noticed bigger and stronger demons standing off to side, apparently waiting for the weaker ones to tire her. She didn’t want to think about the grotesque pleasures they had in store for her.
Suddenly, a human male appeared next to Grogan. His presence seemed to shock the demons, who glanced from her to the white-haired albino.
Methodeis glanced at Jordan and winked then turned to the sorcerer. “Grogan, you’re not playing fair.”
“You traitor!” Grogan growled. “I figured it was you who warned Jordan from the beginning. Conspiring against The Order is your damnation.”
“Like I’m free from damnation at the moment?” Methodeis surveyed the scene before him. “I don’t think
so.”
Blue electricity sputtered on Grogan’s fingertips as he cast his arm at the albino.
Methodeis dodged, and conducted his own white lightning toward the wicked sorcerer.
Grogan swerved, but the lightning scorching his cheek. Hissing through his teeth, he fingered the wound. “Get the girl,” he yelled to the demons. “I’ll take care of Methodeis.”
Jordan switched her gaze from the dueling sorcerers to the demons. Though it didn’t explain Markus’s absence, she couldn’t dwell on him while in this predicament. She kicked out, connecting with a demon’s groin, then lopped off his head with the sword. An endless tide of heinous creatures appeared.
“Markus! For crying out loud where are you?” she gasped.
A blinding flash trounced the demons into submission. Looming by Jordan’s side, a celestial seraph shook his head of russet-hued hair. “Sorry I’m late for the party, love.”
“Who are you?” Astonished, she’d been expecting Markus.
Speaking with an English accent, the angel said, “Time for introductions later, love.” He harvested a heavenly weapon, a far-reaching blade that sparkled like diamonds. The unknown seraph attacked the demons in a flurry.
“You might want to sit this one out,” he remarked over his shoulder. “You look beat, and Markiel will kill me if you get hurt.” Eliminating a thicket of demons, the seraph whirled inexplicably fast. “By the way, I’d appreciate it if Markiel was left in the dark concerning my tardiness.”
She rested on the cement pillar and stayed clear of the seraph’s sweeping blade. She’d taken in to account that Grogan had evaporated, and the influx of demons dried up like the desert.
Methodeis turned to Jordan and the unknown angel. “This is creepy,” he said while gazing over the floor.
Jordan regarded the decomposing corpses searching for one in particular. Stringer was not one of the dead. He must’ve fled during the tumult.
The albino tossed his long strands of hair over his shoulders. “Grogan’s taken over The Order. He’s in the process of regrouping and reorganizing his subordinates. Not an easy task with this group.”
“Why are you here, Methodeis?” Jordan was more curious than ever. “First you tried stopping me from going into the church, and now you’re helping us.”
“We all have secrets.” His colorless eyes deviated to the seraph. “At the moment, let’s just say, I’ve had a change of heart.”
“What does that mean?” she asked. When Methodeis merely smiled, she realized she wasn’t getting anything out of him, and swiveled to the angel. “Who are you? And where is Markus?”
His blade vanished. “Well, that’s a fine how-do-you-do. And after all the trouble of flying here to help you.” Draping an arm across his midsection, the angel bowed. “Let me introduce myself? You may call me Uri.” He straightened. “I must apologize. I’ve been told I tend to be facetious, so don’t let that bother you.”
“Where’s Markus?” Jordan and Methodeis asked simultaneously.
Frowning, she peered at the albino.
“Best for Markiel to answer that.” Uri’s luminous, turquoise eyes narrowed.
“I’ve been calling him for days. He’s ignoring me.” Jordan pocketed her jackknife “What’s really going on?”
“Yeah,” Methodeis said. “Markus was supposed to meet me yesterday, and he never showed.”
Jordan shed another stumped look at the albino. “It’s evident Markus is leaving us in the dark about a number of things.”
“C’mon, love,” Uri said, looking at her, “we’d best be getting out of here.”
“I’ll be in touch.” Just like Grogan, Methodeis disappeared.
“You’d think I’d be used to that with Markus and Ezekiel coming and going.” Jordan shook her head. “But they’re angels and . . . well, Grogan and Methodeis are—”
“Exceptionally gifted sorcerers,” Uri chimed in, “and can cause exceptional damage to your world.”
Taking a deep breath, she guesstimated Uri was too tight-lipped to be supplying her with remedies. She stepped gingerly over and around the minefield of demons toward the rear of the basement. Hearing Uri’s quiet movement behind her, she turned. “Why are you following me? Can’t you just fade away or something?”
“Just making sure you’re on the right path.”
Exhausted, Jordan reflected on her cozy bed and comfy pillow. “You don’t trust me to make my way back home?”
“The streets are teaming with unmentionables at this late hour.” Uri placed a hand on her shoulder, guiding her past a pillar. “You can’t beat the devil in a one-night-stand. The Powers have fought for millenniums.”
“The way I feel now, I couldn’t swat a fly.”
Treading into the darkness, Uri’s heavenly glow suffused the area. She looked up at the window where she’d trespassed. “The kids must’ve found a different way to break in and out. Because that window is about ten feet off the ground.” She turned to retrace her steps.
“Just jump.”
“Just jump?” she parroted. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No, you can do it.”
She put her hands on her hips. “What makes you think I can fly up to that ledge?”
“A big birdy told me you can fly.”
Jordan noted the twinkle in his eyes. “That was with a running leap onto a tree branch. This is different.”
“I don’t think so.” Uri gazed at the open window. “Try it.”
She felt like a peanut in front of him. “You could simply toss me up.”
“I’d rather see you jump it.” His mouth arced sideways. “Let’s go, love. Up, up, and away. I’ll meet you outside.”
Jordan was left alone without the angel’s light. “Great, thanks a lot.” Sizing up the ledge with a critical eye, she squatted like a long jumper. One breath. Two breaths.
She vaulted. Remarkably, her fingers grabbed onto the window’s ledge. Gripping the cement wall with her sneakers, she pulled herself up and slithered out onto the grass. Two hands reached for her waist, helping her stand.
“Now you help me?” She slapped Uri’s hands.
“You haven’t any idea of your potential.” He fell into step beside her. “We need to work on that.”
“We? We need to work on that?” Rather miffed, her lips tensed over her teeth. “Okay, Uri. Enough secret service mumbo jumbo. What’s going on?”
Now somewhat relaxed, she gazed at the tall angel striding beside her. Like Markus, Uri was spectacular in looks and physique. Attired in a sleeveless blue tank and jeans, he could be the boy-next-door type, except for his striking good looks.
She recalled joking with Markus about all angels being luscious eye candy. He’d merely smiled.
Uri’s fingers tousled his russet mane, and the strands fell neatly into place. His turquoise eyes glinted, capturing the starlight, “Well, love—”
“Please,” she begged, “stop calling me love.”
“Hmmm…not all is rosy in the Kingdom.”
“You don’t have to tell me that. I know it as a fact.”
“Um-m . . . Well—” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I’d prefer you talked to Markus. He’ll explain.”
“Explain what?”
He chuckled. “You’re good, lov— Jordan. I’ll leave you with this. There’s trouble in paradise.”
Uri dematerialized into tiny sparkling dots.
MY SOUL CRIES OUT FOR YOU
IN HINDSIGHT, JORDAN wished she’d handled the conversation with Uri differently. She was not yet a champion of espionage or grilling secrets out of people. I have to work on that.
As quietly as possible, she crept into the apartment, toed the heels of her sneakers, and left them by the side door. Padding into the unlit living room, her gaze was drawn to the windows and the lake beyond, looking like black ice. Her foot connected with an end table, upsetting the lamp. Righting the wobbly fixture, Jordan jolted when a shadow rose off the couch.
> Her first thought was her mom. But the form grew in stature.
“Where have you been?” she said, chagrined.
“I trust it went well tonight?” Markus said, almost too casually. “You’ve taken it upon yourself to hunt.”
A cyclone of emotions whirled in her head. “I needed to keep busy.” The last time they’d been together they’d snuggled on the couch, kissing. Her flesh overheated just thinking about it. “I’ve been calling you.” Her super sensitive ears detected his strangled hum.
In the subdued light, he shoved his hands through his hair, seemingly agitated. She couldn’t quite make out his eyes.
“Uri said there’s problems upstairs.”
“Upstairs?” He sounded ambiguous.
“In the Kingdom. Heaven. I assumed.” She swiveled to switch on the light.
“I’d prefer the dark,” he said, “if you don’t mind.”
“An angel preferring the dark?” she chided. “That’s odd.”
“Not really.” His behavior was exceedingly disturbing.
“Why do I have the feeling this isn’t going to be good news?” she asked as her pupils adapted to the dimness.
“You’re getting better at reading people.” He moved aside. “Sit.”
The room felt like an inferno. Now she was glad he wanted the lights off because her insides were gearing up to combust.
When she passed him, a magnetic pull nearly sent her tumbling into his arms. She trembled and strived to contain her impassioned emotions. As an alternative to joining her on the couch, Markus paced the length of the room. He hooked a hand on the back of his neck, appearing crestfallen.
Sensing his misery, her heat extinguished to an arctic cold. She barely refrained from curling into a tight ball and covering her ears. Yet, that wouldn’t stop his words from entering her brain. Instead, she raised her legs from the floor, tucked her knees beneath her chin, and watched him pace.
“I selected Uri to guard you while I’m gone,” he started.
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