Demon King (Claimed By Lucifer #1) - Elizabeth Briggs Page 0,37
sent rubble and dust flying. As soon as the life left him, his wings vanished and he changed, looking for all intents and purposes like a normal human. A normal, very dead human.
Holy shit, I’d just killed someone.
Before I could process what I’d done, another gargoyle charged into the library after me. By sheer instinct and some sort of survival mode I’d switched on, the sword kept moving, cutting down my attacker as I wielded it with the kind of skill I never dreamed I possessed.
I didn’t have time to question it. More gargoyles poured through the door, and my hands kept moving, as did my whole body as I danced and sparred and killed. It was like I’d discovered a muscle memory I never knew I had, like I’d spent most of my life with a sword in my hand. And a good thing too, because here I was, swinging this damn sword and hitting my target every time like my life depended on it—which it totally did.
Gargoyle after gargoyle fell to the ground under the sharp, shining blade, and then Zel was fighting alongside me, her movements impossibly fast and shrouded in darkness. She’d throw a dagger, then use shadow tentacles to pull it back to her hand, and if I hadn’t been fighting my own demons, I would have stopped to stare.
“You all right, little mortal?” Zel yelled, as she stabbed a gargoyle through the neck.
“I think so?” I called back, as I narrowly dodged a gargoyle’s claws. With a mighty swoop, I chopped the head off of him, like some kind of bloodthirsty warlord riding a battle high. Okay, maybe I wasn’t all right. But I couldn’t stop either.
Zel cut down the last gargoyle, and then we were alone. Standing amid a circle of dead bodies. Panting heavily and covered in dust and blood.
I looked down at myself and the horror of it all finally hit me. The adrenaline left me in a rush, and the sword fell from my hand and clattered on the floor. I looked at my trembling hands, wondering if they were mine. How had I done all that? I’d never even held a sword before, as far as I could remember. Yet somehow I’d cut down my opponents like it was nothing. Like I’d been born for combat.
“How?” I looked up at Zel, my heart racing and bile rising in my throat. “How did I…?”
Zel leaned against one of the large bookcases, looking completely at rest as she wiped off her daggers with a small cloth. “That was some show. I have to admit, I’m impressed, little mortal.”
“I killed them.” My gaze flew over the lifeless bodies, knowing I’d been responsible for their deaths. “Oh god, I killed them.”
She shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal. “It was you or them.”
Pushing off the bookcase, she nudged the sword I’d used with her boot, then carefully picked it up with her cloth, like she worried it would burn her, even though the bright light had faded. I felt a pang of something like possessiveness when she touched it, like I wanted to snatch the blade from her and shout, “Mine!” I stepped back instead, shaking my head to clear it. What the hell was wrong with me?
“How did I do this?” I asked, my voice faltering.
“That’s not my story to tell,” she said. “You’ll have to ask Lucifer.”
She walked out of the library, leaving me standing amid a circle of death—one caused by my own hand.
12
Lucifer
I landed hastily on the balcony of my penthouse, taking in the destruction. The windows of the living room had all been shattered, and tiny pieces of glass shimmered in the moonlight. Panic and dread fought for control inside me as I rushed inside.
“Hannah?” I yelled.
My furniture had been tossed about and broken, and a thin layer of dust and rubble coated the floor, along with blood. No bodies though, and no sign of Hannah or Azazel either.
I ran to Hannah’s room, but it was empty and untouched except for the broken windows and the glass all over the floor. Where was she? I returned to the living room and turned in a circle. My rage and fear nearly overwhelmed me. Darkness slipped from my fingertips, eager to find someone to punish for this invasion. How dare they attack my penthouse? Where my woman was?
“She’s fine.”
Whirling, I nearly blasted Azazel with dark magic before I reined myself in. “Where is she?”