Grace and Glory (The Harbinger #3) - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,151

sprouted from his back and horns protruded from the top of his head. “Eat the yummy imps, Thumper.”

I didn’t even have time to think about that. Golden white spilled down Zayne’s arms and the two sickle blades appeared as a mass of demons reached us.

“Remember the plan,” Lucifer said. “We need to weaken Gabriel.”

“Understood,” Zayne said as I nodded.

Unhooking a dagger, I summoned my grace. The weight of the Sword of Michael formed against my palm as Zayne lopped off the head of a Raver.

A Hellion raced past the kittens and dragon, grabbing for me, but I dipped under its arm and spun around, slicing the fiery sword through its back. I whirled around as Lucifer shoved his hand through the chest of the Nightcrawler.

“You done messed up,” Lucifer growled, yanking its heart out. Flames erupted from his palm and then the Nightcrawler.

Bambi shot out of the mist gathering among the grass, catching an imp and dragging it back to the ground.

Shooting forward, I kicked out, catching a Raver in the midsection. It stumbled back, mouth open and teeth snapping at air. I shot forward, thrusting the dagger into its hairless chest. Hot blood sprayed my face as I yanked the dagger out. I kept moving forward, getting a little lost in the fight and the pumping adrenaline. Demons fell all around us as Thumper tore through the sky, snatching up imps left and right.

“He’s going to have a tummy ache,” I said.

Roth ripped through the neck of a Nightcrawler. “That’s what Pepto is for.”

I snorted. “You’re going to need a big bottle—”

Roth lurched for me as fingers tangled in my braid, jerking my head back. I gasped as I suddenly stared up into the young face of some kind of winged demon.

“Gotcha,” it grunted, wings sweeping down as he lifted up—

Without warning, the demon’s head just fell off. The grip on my hair relaxed as the demon fell.

“Got you,” Zayne growled from above.

“That was hot,” I whispered as Roth grabbed my arm, pulling me out of the way of the demon slamming into the ground. “Thanks.”

Zayne landed beside me. “Thank me later.”

I smiled. “Planning on it.”

“Gross, guys.” Roth launched into the air, joining Layla.

The trees rattled behind us, as if a hundred birds were taking flight. I turned, seeing the dark shapes of Wardens spilling out into the air while Lucifer’s legion poured out from between the trees, racing forward.

Zayne grinned, his gaze meeting mine. My smile kicked up a notch as a Warden dropped to the ground.

A wall of flames went up behind, stretching so high I couldn’t see the trees behind it. Heat blew back, singeing our skin. At first I thought it was Lucifer, but he was ahead of us.

Then I heard the shouts—the screams—and my heart sank. The Wardens. Dez. Nic. Jordan—

I cut those thoughts off before I let them take hold. I couldn’t go down that road right now.

“Bael!” Lucifer shouted, whipping around. “Where are you, you conniving, traitorous—?”

A ball of flames spun from the corner, nearly catching the black kitten’s back legs. Another ball of flames rippled across the sky. Thumper dived, but wasn’t quick enough. The dragon shrieked as the flames singed his wings.

Roth spun around. “Familiars!” he shouted. “Return to me. Now!”

The familiars turned to shadows as they flew back to Roth, forming beads as they dropped down onto his bare skin. Roaring, Roth turned and shoved his hands through the chest of a nearby demon.

Spinning around, Zayne scanned the yard. “Where is Teller?”

“That was him?” I dipped, springing up behind a Raver. I lopped off its head.

“He was just here.” Zayne kept searching. “I don’t see him.”

“Did the flames get him?” I asked, shoving the dagger into the chest of an imp.

Shaking his head, Zayne turned to me. “Pull your grace in,” he ordered. “You’re starting to weaken.” Stalking toward me, he wiped his fingers under my nose. “Pull it in, Trin.”

I swiped at my face, but Zayne had gotten the blood. I wanted to deny it, but he was right. Pulling on the grace was weakening me. I let it go, cursing as the Sword of Michael collapsed into fiery embers.

Layla dropped on the ground in a crouch, rising slowly. “Dear God,” she panted. Oily blood spotted her face and hair. “It’s like we haven’t even made a dent.” She looked over her shoulder. “We needed them.” She turned to where Lucifer stood. “We need your backup.”

Snarling, he ripped the wings off an imp he caught. “They can’t get