Dark Kings (Feathers and Fate #1) - Sadie Moss Page 0,18

now, I step into the alley, unfurling my wings as I prepare to fight.

Demons are called corrupted for a reason. They look sort of like humans, if those humans were badly diseased. Puss oozes out of them from huge boils and lesions on their flesh, and they have blackened gums and milky eyes. Through the cracks in their skin, something like lava glows an unearthly color, and their blood is black. They’re absolutely disgusting.

They can seem frail, since they look like they’re one good cough away from keeling over and dying, but they’re a lot stronger and more powerful than that. They can and will mess you up. They’ll mess me up for sure, if I’m not careful.

“Go back to where you came from!” I yell, striding forward. “This is neutral ground! Go back!”

Of course, they don’t. Whatever brought them here, it wasn’t an accident; it’s not like they just made a mistake and took the wrong exit off the turnpike.

Okay. We’ll do this the hard way.

From out of the ether where it resides, I summon my angel blade.

Anderson returned this to me along with my wings and my powers, although I have to admit, I was really hoping I wouldn’t need it.

I twirl the glowing blade, everything else forgotten as my focus narrows on the demons before me.

I haven’t used my blade in thirty years, and I was never a soldier to begin with. But I’ve got to do this now. I grip the hilt tightly and lunge for the first demon, the closest one.

The demon shrieks and tries to sink its claws into me, fangs appearing out of nowhere. Yeah, like I said, they’re tougher than they look. I yell in pain as the claws sink into my shoulders, stabbing wildly. I catch him in the gut, making dark blood spurt everywhere, then I fling the dead demon to the side and take on another one.

These are the lower level demons, not anything special or extra-powerful. Which is good for me, because it means I have a chance of taking them all out. Hopefully. Bigger, stronger demons would eat me for lunch.

As if they can smell my fear, two of them come at me at once. I swing my blade hard, yelling and beating my wings, using them like limbs. My wings are strong—they can knock out a human and generate some good wind too. I use them like I’m trying to throw punches, and I’m able to fend off the two demons who attacked me, but they’re tearing at me with their claws, and there are more of their kind right behind them.

I’ve taken one out, but there are five more. They’re bleeding where I’ve slashed them with my blade, but I’m really worried that I’m bleeding too.

I feel like I’m burning.

So hot. So tired.

I can’t keep this up. There’s no way I’ll be able to fight off an endless stream of corrupted. I have to close the portal, to stop more demons from getting out.

My angelic blood is pumping, burning through my veins, and I stretch out my free hand, screaming with exertion. I’ve never closed a portal before. I don’t even know quite how, but I’m an angel—demonic stuff is literally the antithesis of me. I should be able to do this.

My body feels like it’s on fire, but as I pour all of my strength and angelic power toward the portal, the molten edges of the sinkhole begin to harden to dark stone.

It’s working. It’s working!

But with all my energy focused on closing up the breach between Earth and Hell, it leaves me vulnerable to the demons who are literally ripping into me. I’m bleeding everywhere, bruised and battered, my poor wing feathers being ripped out, and if I don’t hurry up, there’ll be no point to this because I’ll be dead.

The portal hardens and smokes, emitting a low rumbling sound until at last it closes.

I stumble, the energy draining out of me. The world spins.

So this is what passing out feels like, I think vaguely.

Then I don’t think anything at all.

Chapter Eight

Beckett

Demons really are a fucking nuisance.

Disgusting. Every last one of them. And they definitely don’t belong on Earth.

I’m still reeling a little from the several surprising turns this evening has taken as I stride toward the angel’s collapsed form.

I suspected from the moment she stepped into my office this afternoon that she wasn’t human. Supernatural creatures have a certain power about them that they can’t quite hide from others of their