Fury Unleashed (Forgotten Brotherhood #1) - N.J. Walters Page 0,69

the unspeakable memories she’d done her best to suppress were alive and in vivid color, visual reminders of where she’d been and was likely to end up for eternity.

In this way, she truly did understand the demons she hunted. Like them, she’d do anything in her power to stay out of Hell.

Pay attention.

This wasn’t the time for introspection or self-pity. Nor was it the time to give in to the despair and fear that threatened to consume her. She had to stay sharp and ready to fight.

“Do you see anything?” As much as she knew about Maccus, there was still so much that was a mystery. Could he see demons like she could? Did he sense them? After all, he’d spent centuries in Hell.

“Not yet.” They snaked their way through the rooms and the crowd. There were far more people then there usually were at such events.

Her lungs constricted. Were the walls getting closer? The air thinner?

“She’s really famous, isn’t she?” A part of her was proud of what her sister had accomplished. But how many other people had she sacrificed to attain that success?

“Among a certain crowd.” He paused in front of one giant canvas. Like the first one they’d seen, this one also took up an entire wall.

The subject matter was entirely different. At the bottom of the painting were demons and the fires of Hell waiting to receive someone, but it wasn’t a human they were waiting for. It was an angel.

Gabriel stood above Maccus, who was lying face down in the dirt. The angel held a sword of light. White wings stained with blood had been tossed aside like garbage. Two long gashes ran the length of Maccus’s back.

This was his falling.

Menace poured from every cell in his body. Shit, if she didn’t do something, he was going to rip the thing from the wall and destroy it.

They couldn’t afford to cause a scene. Not here. Not now.

“Maccus.” She grabbed his arm and tried to pull him away. It was like trying to move a mountain. The daggers etched on his palms started to glow. Not good. “Maccus,” she called his name again.

“Do you like it?” Kayley strolled up with a tall, thin man by her side. A whiff of sulfur hit her. A demon. Suspecting her sister had demonic help and actually witnessing it were two different things. The proof was irrefutable.

“I was inspired,” Kayley continued. “It came to me in a vision.” Her laugh was as grating as fingernails on a chalkboard.

Time to take drastic measures or he might kill her sister, right here and now. She stepped in front of him and dragged his head down. His eyes remained locked on the painting in front of him.

Swearing under her breath, she yanked with all her might. His head tilted the slightest bit. She surged up and kissed him.

For the first time since they’d met, his lips were cold and unmoving. He didn’t even seem to realize she was there.

Heaven had destroyed him once. There was no way she would allow Hell to use his pain to destroy him again.

Doubling down on the kiss, she swiped her tongue along the seam of his mouth before pushing inside. It was as though he wasn’t there, as though he was lost in the darkness.

No fucking way. She teased his tongue with hers, tried to breathe her passion into him. Fight it, she mentally ordered. Be with me. Not them.

Around them, people laughed and chatted. She didn’t give a crap about any of them. Right now, she was fighting for his life, what was left of his soul.

She ran her hands over his chest, trying to infuse him with her strength, with her caring. Because she did care, more than was safe for her.

He might believe he was all darkness, but she saw the good in him, the honor.

Finally, his lips moved under hers. It was only the slightest twitch, but she was so attuned to him, she felt it. A sense of victory surged through her as she

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